Looking for Work
Consider the pigeons of the city,
how in their filthy swoop and dive they fatten
on dusty Dorito crumbs;
consider their evolution
through generations of squawk and squalor,
peck and fight. (And what did it take for that one,
strutting his kingly amethyst ruff,
his neck sheen of subdued emerald,
his fat gray feathers of survival,
to survive here?)
Consider the homeless man outside Albertson's,
approaching every car with his rags and Windex,
whose far-distant ancestor
was able to track and kill
the wildebeest, the antelope, and the cape hare.
Consider how far he has come,
listening to his ipod between customers,
and yet how faithful he stays to the wild
dictates of seek and hunt and gather,
scoping out the best shelters for meals,
the cleanest beds, the one
tight face still able to open.
Consider your bank account,
dipping like a low-flying bird,
then spreading wings and planing
over the fields of dead numbers,
canceled checks, ancient pay stubs,
long afternoons bought and paid for
in boredom and lost purpose. And the live
bodies of your brothers and sisters, crushed
in the trash compactor of Unwanted Ads.
Consider yourself,
marching in and out of these institutions
in your skirt and nylons, leaving ferocious lipstick tracks
on styrofoam coffee cups,
your name and address on application forms,
like one of your ancestors peeing on a thorn bush.
poem by Alison Luterman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Cape Hunting Dogs Of Africa
They run for hours on end each day through grasses gray and brown
Race antelope to a stand still and drag big zebra down
Outlast the speedy wildebeest their victims die in pain
Those amazing cape hunting dogs the hunters of the plain.
They have no sense of right or wrong they must hunt to survive
And their young in den some ten miles off without fresh meat won't thrive
The cape hunting dogs of Africa don't have sins to forgive
They risk their lives amidst flying hooves they kill so they
can live.
The cape hunting dogs of Africa are creatures i admire
They chase big game for miles and miles and never seem to tire
Their team work and companionship they live to serve the pack
They often kill ten miles from home and trot the ten miles back.
The cape hunting dogs of Africa live as true family
They chase big game for miles on end and work in harmony
They have no choice but kill to eat if they don't eat they die
And they risk their lives to serve the pack when hooves of hunted fly.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Is Survival Of The Fittest
On the flesh of smaller forms of wildlife the eagle she does fill her craw
A predator of Nature's wild kingdom and Nature lives by her own law
And the predators of Nature's wild kingdom they have to kill to stay alive
It is called the survival of the fittest where only the fittest survive.
The fear of creatures of the jungle when they listen to the big cats roar
But in Nature big cats are not seen as killers they hunt for survival nothing more
They have to hunt when they are hungry of meat they need their daily fill
It is one of the Laws of Nature that the predator to eat must kill.
Nature never grieves for her dead creatures to grieve it is not Nature's way
She is above sorrow and pity when on her bosom her dead creatures lay
Us humans too are part of Nature we live for awhile and we die
The creatures of Nature's wild kingdom they are not less mortal than I.
It is called survival of the fittest it happens in Nature night and day
Those that are born to be meat eaters on other creatures have to prey
And birth and death to Mother Nature are part of life and of the same
And for the deaths of her wildborn her predators she never blame.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pigeons Cooing When They Do
Pigeons cooing when they do,
A cooing begun.
As they strut after flying...
Or sit and stare with a sitting done.
They seem to fly around in packs,
To peck and pick in shifts.
Until someone begins to eat,
A delicious 'anything' pigeons seek...
With probing beaks.
Then other pigeons dropp in flocks,
From places suspicious.
While peacocking around,
Scouting out for something dished.
Like some popcorn or peanuts.
Or crumbs from crackers and/or bread.
To feed in a cooing...
As if a drooling done is did.
They seem to fly around in packs,
To peck and pick in shifts.
Until someone begins to eat,
A delicious 'anything' pigeons seek...
With probing beaks.
Pigeons cooing when they do,
A cooing begun.
As they strut after flying...
Or sit and stare with a sitting done.
Then other pigeons dropp in flocks,
From places suspicious.
While peacocking around,
Scouting out for something dished.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Homeless, Na
He was unwanted so parents abandoned
Homeless, loveless grown as the orphan.
Can't stay more in orphanage of ill treat
would escape from there for life's retreat.
Has a dream of a home where he can live
with respect, comfort, bliss and peace.
He doesn't have money, to buy one little.
He collects and sells junk and scrap metal.
Every dawn and dusk used to pull cart
To increase the income he would work hard.
Sleeps in the cart or a shipping container.
deposits in bank, savings after meals, whatever.
Years passed dropp and dropp make ocean;
to buy a house, now he has money enough.
Now no more, Na, would live near gutter.
In a bank account he has one million dollar.
No God! sudden pain takes him to hospital
where Na is diagnosed of dreadful cancer.
He can't take money, unable to prove identity;
no evidence of his existence was there officially.
Before court ruled for identity, he was dead
Na, born homeless, as well, died homeless.
sdtiwari1@gmaildotcom
poem by S.D. Tiwari
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crouching Low
Two men in ragged clothing
sat beside the road
alert and on the hunt.
Each watched a different direction
looking for game to emerge.
One espied a small bird
unknown to either of them
and its strutting attracted them.
' That bird, ' one man says
'we could kill and eat.
It does not look that fast
and would be easy prey.'
'Well it could work, ' the other man said
'but if we don't hunt him and instead capture him
we could keep him as a pet.'
'What good would that do? ' said the first man.
'We don't need pets.'
'No, no' said the second man
'lets keep the bird
and take its eggs and eat the babies! '
'Now 'said the first man' that makes sense.
The Bird listening to all this with his super hearing
crouched low and muttered 'Barbarians.'
Here comes the Age of the Carnivores.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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City Pigeons
Around my boots where I am sitting crumbs of bread they happily eat
The cheeky and colourful City pigeons so at home on the city street
Their cousins the rock pigeons of the Northlands in Town would feel so out of place
They once were the very same species though now quite a different race.
Introduced by humans to cities all around the World in busy towns they feel at home
Beyond the borders of suburbia the city pigeons seldom do roam
They build their flimsy nests of sticks on building ledges their young they hatch out in the Spring
Like their ancestors on trees they do not roost or nest Nature is such a wonderful thing.
Some people they like and feed the city pigeons whilst others do not like them at all
Though Nature cares for all of her children from the very great to the small
And wild-born things can be so adaptable in noisy environments they they've learned to dwell
The city pigeons of this one example in cities they do very well.
By the street seat around my boots they eat bread crumbs like house sparrows they are almost tame
They were born and raised in the city to be good at surviving their one claim to fame
Liked by some and disliked by others but that they are good at surviving none can deny
They are born and raised in the noisy city and in the city they do die.
poem by Francis Duggan
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To a migrating bird
Oh! migrating bird,
In this branch
Thy hours are limited.
Far from thy nesting place,
It is a sojourn
In search of springs and copse.
Across the plains,
And into the windy dales,
It is a long flight.
And here and there,
Where the streams meet and depart,
A few nights are spent.
And thee leave the taverns,
Thy acquaintances, sprawling meadows,
To meet thy destiny yonder hills.
Here, among the bush and alcove,
We gather a few feathers,
Casting a glance unto the trail of thy flight.
Here, within passing life and dream,
We gather a few pebbles to feel the lost horizons.
************************************ **************************
This is the sum and substance of our acquaintances too. In our office we get new acquaintances and they leave us one day on account of a transfer or we leave them on our retirement and so forth. Our life is a sojourn for that matter. We will be leaving our native haunts. We will be leaving our cities. We will be leaving our circle of friends. The story thus continues.......
poem by Ravi Panamanna
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A Peace They'd Find
I threw pennies out to the pigeons,
This morning.
They did not know what to do!
Had I flew the 'coop' with scorning?
I had always come to toss
To them popcorn or chips...
Something they ate I would leave them with!
They usually would peck and be on their way.
But this morning they sat as if to say:
'There's not a thing we can do with these!
Of that all of us pigeons have come to agree!
We expected at least a twig or stick thrown
A chicken bone or something sniffed and left alone!
Something to huddle around over...
To peck and pick!
Is this some kind of joke?
We protest this different shit!
Hey? Are you listening?
Do we have to fight over this? '
And as I began to leave this scene behind...
I pulled from my pocket a new minted dime.
I threw it and watched them trying to lift it together.
Believing the sparkling would bring them a peace,
They would find even better!
Bringing them with curiousity,
And touching each others' feathers!
It worked!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cathartes Aura
Walking to my car
on a warm afternoon
up on the high hillside lot
close to the cliff drop,
I see rising beneath me
the bird,
wings spreading six feet,
head naked and red as blood,
white beak hooking invisible winds
to fill the creamy hollow of under-feather,
lifting on thermals
before my eyes,
when two small blackbirds
dive from unseen heights
and viciously caw as they peck
the black back.
Top guns, fighter aces;
these lords of the open sky
sharply turn as the heavy buzzard wheels
through dark pines.
I clutch my keys
and stay to watch the fight.
I want to see how, with curling feathers
and piercing rage
these small beasts
protect their living nest.
poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As the Crows Gathered
As the Crows Gathered
By: Adam M. Snow
Surrounded by bodies of murder
the flocking and squawk arose.
Score of many rows on girder
feast of death drew the crows.
One to carry souls of many;
one onto life beyond life.
Yet was not the foe-of any-
to leave this world of strife.
The crows they flock,
they flock, they squawk;
flapping their wings tremendously.
They caw, they pecked,
they grew many in score
groups gathered more and more.
Blackened the sky with their endless flutter;
'But what of this? ' I utter.
'My days are long now being nighted.
The crows around have united.'
Feathers falling, covering the ground with black;
everywhere I look, it covers every crack.
The thought of death surrounds us all
before the crows, life will fall.
The ominous bank of crows like a cloud,
covers the world like an endless shroud.
Leaving I, overwhelm with fear
it is death lurking near.
The crows they gathered all in vast;
all is dark than a shadow cast.
They prey the lost and many more,
time has come for death to bore.
poem by Adam M. Snow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Humming-Bird And A Butterfly
Once upon a time...
On a lovely spring afternoon
a butterfly was flying in the garden
She landed on a flower,
And left its nectar.
A humming bird
was attracted by its smell
and fed itself with it.
In all the afternoons of that sping,
the butterfly flew,
Spreading her wings between the flowers
Leaving its nectar on them.
The humming-bird was enchanted,
And he drank it in all the flowers,
Because he fell in love with her.
poem by Lindemberg Pereira da Silva
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We are back
We are back
From foreign lands
Replete with temporal pleasures
Overseas, across the boarders
As heavy-hearted as we are
With our bodies zonked
Nonentities we were
Among a people heinous
We are back
To shed scars we got abroad
With Warm smiles
From fellow nationals
In this Heart of Africa
To retain our dignity
We sold for survival
And lost for good
Leaving our hopes in vain
We are back
Sated with unmet wants
To stay for life
Among brothers and sisters
And have our prosperity
In this land of our ancestors
The Warm Heart of Africa
poem by Stain Katuli
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Cruci-Fiction In Space
this is evolution
the monkey
the man
and then the gun
if Christ was in Texas
the hammer
the sickle
the only son
this is your creation
the atom of Eden
was a bomb
if Jack was the Baptist
we'd drink wine
from the head
this is evolution
the monkey
the man
and then the gun
I am a revolution
pull my knuckles down
if I could
I am a revelation
and I'm nailed
to the Holy Wood
this is evolution
the monkey
the man
and then the gun
we are dead and tomorrow's canceled
because of things we did yesterday
we are dead and tomorrow's canceled
they crucify us in our space
in our space
in our space
this is evolution
the monkey
the man
and then the gun
flies are waiting
song performed by by Marilyn Manson from Holy Wood (In The Shadow Of The Valley Of Death)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A hunting expedition
Far off in the bush veldt near to Marken,
where the red sand lies like sea sand,
a young hunter on a day
takes a old.303 rifle with open sights
and walks following a tracker,
that they call a guide,
past green thorn trees
with long white camel-thorns
to where a impala
is standing against a hillock
and he aims for a headshot
and I say to him: “shoot for the shoulder-blade”
but he doesn’t listen
and when the shot resounds
the antelope lowers its head
and the bullet whistles away from a rock plate
with the antelope
running away in a red brown stripe
disappearing into the bushes
and the bush veldt sun
burns without mercy down on us.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Legend Reborn
Youve been fighting for much to long
You saw the future and what to come
Restless spirits out on the run,
Among the shadows of the sun
You are the rising resistance now
Weve come to show you a way somehow
Beyond the past and in secrecy,
We found it all, but we want more
We come from the age of chivalry
Metal machines, unchained and free
We are hear for you to see
Flying on wings of steel, thundering, we are breaking the seal
Fighting for the oath we sworn, to spread the word of a legend reborn
Moving silent like a gentle breeze
Were the troops of metal and we do as we please
We are the restless, we are the wild,
Burning hearts that never die
We are going against the tide
The hammer has fallen, a thorn in your side
Break the silence or take the fall
The mighty templars will take it all
Welcome the age of chivalry,
Were we all will be set free
Its the time for you and me
Flying on wings of steel, thundering, we are breaking the seal
Fighting for the oath we sworn, to spread the word of a legend reborn
Sons and brothers fight or fall
With our sisters and daughters
Were standing one for all
Flying on wings of steel, thundering, we are breaking the seal
Fighting for the oath we sworn, to spread the word of a legend reborn
Flying on wings of steel, thundering, we are breaking the seal
Fighting for the oath we sworn, to spread the word of a legend reborn
song performed by by Hammerfall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Warriors
The soul speaks from a warrior's spirit
Chants of war, execution of arts
In gruesome battle, one fears it
Death is when war starts
Agony cries god is pain
Brutality lords the field
Innocence killed hearts slain
Other hearts to ferocity yield
Strange calm, war mediation
Prayers to the brave
Tears in formation
Bodies march to the grave
Acts remembered, bodies burn
Ancient drum rolls
Human valor they earn
The valor of dead souls!
Archangels of war's path
Passion engulfs nature's law
The heart of war's wrath
The most dangerous organ man saw
Fight, fight, fight
Violence man's only right
Kill, kill, kill
The enemy and blood shall spill
Into earth's soil
Man's real home
Man's bloody ego
To live in loam
With souls dead long ago
Total war
What man's malice is for
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Open Your Heart
Smoke-colored l.a. sky. hand covers up your sleepless eyes. as morning creeps in. passed out there on my couch. wearing the face of down and out. my long lost friend. three cups of coffee and yo
Be on your way. until this time tomorrow you come crawling. back again. open your heart to me. think of my shoulder as sanctuary. open your soul to me. Ill try to unravel your tangled up dreams. and the only thing that matters is your heart stays open for me. I always pictured you. as clear minded but confused with wounds. no one could see. you always made the friends. that never stuck with you until the end. except for me. and the only difference I hear is your alibi. and the only thing in common is the reason. youre still here. open your heart to me. think of my shoulder as sanctuary. open your soul to me. Ill try to unravel your tangled up dreams. and the only thing that matters is your heart stays open for me. I can feel your loneliness. I feel your pain.
song performed by by Toto
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New World Order
Broken down, feeling naked
Leaving me unfulfilled
Promising compromise
Championing mediocrity
Time and time again
What you said ain't what you mean
Even if all my bones are broken
I will drag myself back from the edge to
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the King
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the
King,
I am the King, God save the King
Kill the King, The King is dead
I am the King, Long live the King
Kill the King, The King is dead
I am the King, Long live the King
I reveal a deceiver
In the highest seat in the land
His idle hands the Devil's workshop
Generate more smoke than heat
Time and time again
What you said ain't what you mean
Even if all my bones are broken
I will drag myself back from the edge to
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the King
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the
King,
I am the King, God save the King
Kill the King, The King is dead
I am the King, Long live the King
Kill the King, The King is dead
I am the King, Long live the King
A new precedent in pain, a new precedent in pain
Mankind is blown to dust, mankind is blown to dust
An explosion of the Brain, an explosion of the
Brain
Spontaneously combust, spontaneously combust
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the
King,
I am the King
Kill the King, I, The King is dead, I am, Long live
the King,
I am the King
Kill the King, I, The King is dead, I am, Long live
the King,
I am the King
Kill the King, I, The King is dead, I am, Long live
the King,
I am the King
song performed by by Megadeth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ancestor Blessings Running Sleeping
ancestor blessings running sleeping
dream running in waking
eye infant ancient sleep listening...
artistic walking seed own time lines
hooks fishing catch spirit minds
wear colour cloak rainbow bird feathers...
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A war song!
I see the soldiers marching on
Singing a cold war song
On the road they hold onto their guns
As the fighting goes on all day long
Fight, March, and fight
Shoot, aim and shoot right
Whether the sun shines, this is war
This is war whether the rains pours
This is war where we kill
Our friends, sisters and brothers
For they are our enemies for real
If they choose against us for another
They go to war
Because of a handful of political men
Who stand alive; in erect offices still holding their pens
The soldiers fight until no one stands up anymore!
Fight, March, and fight
Shoot, aim and shoot right
Whether the sun shines, this is war
This is war whether the rains pours
www.sylviachidi.com
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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