The Retrospective Bird
His caw is a cackle, his eye is dim,
And he mopes all day on the lowest limb;
Not a word says he, but he snaps his bill
And twitches his palsied head, as a quill,
The ultimate plume of his pride and hope,
Quits his now featherless nose-of-the-Pope,
Leaving that eminence brown and bare
Exposed to the Prince of the Power of the Air.
And he sits and he thinks: 'I'm an old, old man,
Mateless and chickless, the last of my clan,
But I'd give the half of the days gone by
To perch once more on the branches high,
And hear my great-grand-daddy's comical croaks
In authorized versions of _Bulletin_ jokes.'
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Related quotes
Featherless wings
last night i dream that i was walking in the clouds, huge
heavenly petals like pebbles wash away my tears, a moist
of silver blue drifted my pink cheek; cool, smooth and soft
as i feel it, clear as the ocean wave and beautiful as rainbow
when the sun scatter its radiant ray where i seat in the
cumulus formation of clouds beneath my feet
in a glance, speed like light passing through my eye, blinking
without control while my nose seems white as a snow failed
to breathe the air, choking with my eye staring above my head,
thinking that this might be the end, as the naked eye said adieu
death comes like a thief of the night, then i have to go, but in a
sudden moment i notice that iam not alone in the wilderness of
beautiful clouds, their are humanoid form of being floating
waving, cheering, singing sweet melody of song, and calling
many name, whispering me not to be lonely; it’s the clouds that
made us to hope, it’s the song that give us the feather to fly and
it’s the dream that leads us go, to a place, we almost have to
know
waiting for a day of night and day, seems no end, not a single
feather grown in my body cause me pain, bother and confuse
leads my way to pray, that in my featherless wings i can reach
the sky; fly my featherless wings fly up, up to the heaven above,
guide my dream in your own destiny, a place where my soul will
be happy, stay with me winged angels, featherless wings has to
fly high with you in the heaven above
oh! dream show me the way my featherless wings have something
to say, please listen my winged angels and hear my
featherless voice.......
“angels wings is made not of feather, it’s a deep faith of their
loyalty to God, tangible and form like wings”
poem by Antonio Liao
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Eye Of The Storm
In the eye of the storm
where the rain clouds let up
past to my back
hope the future clears up
Praying for better days
keep it real in better ways
hope calm weather stays
Future in my eyes
a life when no one dies
and great mind collides
you got to love these time
where the grand ma and grand child sits
and everybody eats
as they reminisces
on the good old days
poem by Robert Roberts
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The larvae
the larvae
it has grown
shed its ugly days
crept out of dried brown leaf
in a lovely batik
to start a princely life
crowned with two wings
it has flown high into the sky
as if to announce its glory
it now has honey as food
and flowers as friends
never once in its larvae days
it has thought life would turn out
to be so grand
the man too has grown, shrivelled
and passed away
leaving a world of colourful imagination
as to its existence beyond
perhaps he too now lives a grand life
somewhere.... in a garden
leaving the drab existence behind
like the larvae that leaves its brown leaf
to fly away a glory of nature
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Towards The Final Day
Towards the final day
Knows one for certain hundred percent
Sure to wind up thoroughly
Leaving behind even the mortal sheath
Thereso the blood vessels shrink
Then the brass and bronze vessels
Then the sentimental tradition
Children can't be glued to
Tradititional furniture pappa's, grand-pa's then
Espoused with mamma's, grand-ma's silver, gold
All secretly or forcibly to the mart
Grand-old-mistress innocent
Holding back her darlings' left-by goods
Snaps, clothes, books
Grand-old-mister adament
Mindless leaving his own house
Tear-sold bucks mamma's, pappa's
Celebrate purchasing antiques..
Children enjoy their special days
Far farther
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Children And Me
when they see me
alll the children address me
daddy daddy
grand daddy
come daddy daddy come
but ı have not a real child
though all the children are mine
I treat them like mine
aöm I SO OLD
ı SOMETİ MES SUSPECT
but nobody accepts
eldering easily
all living thing
never wants to get older...never
but am I so old
as when
chidren see me
address..
daddy...dady..daddy..
or grand daddy
what a wonderful sight
of a just walking baby
leaning towards me
from her mother bosom
when alll the children see me
they address me
daddy...daddy..dady.
or grand daddy
ı s there a secret relatı on
between the children and me
do you know
can you guess
and tell me
poem by Metin Sahin
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She Thinks Shes Edith Head
Back in high school I knew a girl
Not too simple and not too kind
We both grew up, but I heard shed changed
From a new wave fan to another kind
She thinks shes edith head
But you might know shes not
The accent in her speech
She didnt have growing up
She thinks shes edith head
Or helen girlie brown
Or some other cultural figure
We dont know a lot about
Its been years since I moved away
But at christmas I come home
And I saw her reflection
In the window of a store
She was talking to herself
Not too simple and not too kind
I walked on by, it was complicated
And it stuck in my mind
She thinks shes edith head
But you might know shes not
The accent in her speech
She didnt have growing up
The accent in her speech
She didnt have growing up
The accent in her speech
She didnt have growing up
She thinks shes edith head
She thinks shes edith head now
She thinks shes edith head
She thinks shes edith head now
She thinks shes edith head
She thinks shes edith head now
She thinks shes edith head
She thinks shes edith head now
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Commanders Of The Faithful
The Pope he is a happy man,
His Palace is the Vatican,
And there he sits and drains his can:
The Pope he is a happy man.
I often say when I'm at home,
I'd like to be the Pope of Rome.
And then there's Sultan Saladin,
That Turkish Soldan full of sin;
He has a hundred wives at least,
By which his pleasure is increased:
I've often wished, I hope no sin,
That I were Sultan Saladin.
But no, the Pope no wife may choose,
And so I would not wear his shoes;
No wine may drink the proud Paynim,
And so I'd rather not be him:
My wife, my wine, I love, I hope,
And would be neither Turk nor Pope.
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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Hope travels through, nor quits us when we die.
quote by Alexander Pope
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Primer For Blacks
Blackness
is a title,
is a preoccupation,
is a commitment Blacks
are to comprehend—
and in which you are
to perceive your Glory.
The conscious shout
of all that is white is
“It’s Great to be white.”
The conscious shout
of the slack in Black is
'It's Great to be white.'
Thus all that is white
has white strength and yours.
The word Black
has geographic power,
pulls everybody in:
Blacks here—
Blacks there—
Blacks wherever they may be.
And remember, you Blacks, what they told you—
remember your Education:
“one Drop—one Drop
maketh a brand new Black.”
Oh mighty Drop.
______And because they have given us kindly
so many more of our people
Blackness
stretches over the land.
Blackness—
the Black of it,
the rust-red of it,
the milk and cream of it,
the tan and yellow-tan of it,
the deep-brown middle-brown high-brown of it,
the “olive” and ochre of it—
Blackness
marches on.
The huge, the pungent object of our prime out-ride
is to Comprehend,
to salute and to Love the fact that we are Black,
which is our “ultimate Reality,”
which is the lone ground
from which our meaningful metamorphosis,
from which our prosperous staccato,
group or individual, can rise.
Self-shriveled Blacks.
Begin with gaunt and marvelous concession:
YOU are our costume and our fundamental bone.
All of you—
you COLORED ones,
you NEGRO ones,
those of you who proudly cry
“I’m half INDian”—
those of you who proudly screech
“I’VE got the blood of George WASHington in MY veins”
ALL of you—
you proper Blacks,
you half-Blacks,
you wish-I-weren’t Blacks,
Niggeroes and Niggerenes.
You.
poem by Gwendolyn Brooks
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I Love The Word Hope
I love the word hope 'tis a great word it keeps reminding you when you are down
That in many ways you are lucky you are not the worst off in the town
Compared to some you are quite lucky and though you may not be one of the privileged few
There's hope and comfort in the thought that many are worse off than you.
I love the word hope it seems positive to hope for the good days ahead
For life for you is scarce worth living if the hope in your heart it is dead
To hope for a better tomorrow is the thing that keeps us keeping on
For you do not have much to live for if hope out of your life is gone.
I love the word hope it's uplifting for those who are feeling quite low
For as they say hope springs eternal and out of hope success can grow
And one can only see a dark future for one who is struggling to cope
If that person has lost the great gift the gift that we all know as hope.
I love the word hope it's a great gift those who have it in them have fight
They keep on going through the dark tunnel till finally they reach the light
And when you retain hope through your hard days you are telling the World I'm alive
For without it life on you much harder and you find it so hard to survive.
poem by Francis Duggan
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GINGER SNAPS...by talile ali
ONE OF THE STRANGEST TRUTHS, I GUESS
I ALWAYS KNOW GIRLS THAT I WANT TO UNDRESS
IT SEEMS KINDA STRANGE, BUT WHAT CAN I SAY
IF THEY LIKE GINGER SNAP'S, I KNOW THAT I'LL GET MY WAY
CHORUS
GINGER SNAPS
GINGER SNAPS
I AM SUCH A FAN OF THOSE GINGER SNAPS
GINGER SNAPS
GINGER SNAPS
SEND ME THE WOMEN I NEED
I SAID IT WAS STRANGE, BUT I'M NOT MAKING IT UP
IF THEY LIKE GINGER SNAPS, I'LL BE EATIN THEM UP
MAYBE IT'S JUST MY THINKIN, BUT I CAN SAY I FEEL
THE SIMPLE FACT TO ME STEPS INTO THE SURREAL
CHORUS
GINGER SNAPS
GINGER SNAPS
I AM SUCH A FAN OF THOSE GINGER SNAPS
GINGER SNAPS
GINGER SNAPS
SEND ME THE WOMEN I NEED
poem by Talile Ali
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Trees And Dreams
Wooden soldiers
Tall and strong
Guarding woodlands
In rows so long.
Hard and fast
Taller than grass
Grown to last
of old, cut as a mast.
Reaching skyward
Surveying all around
Casting long shadows westward
Towering flora that abound.
New saplings now old
One story they have told
Deep roots make them bold
As branches unfold
Some older than man
Cast deep in the ground
Hid the old clan
Felt the wet nose of a hound.
Lovers lay beneath it's branches
basking in the sun
Exhausted from their horizontal fun
Beads of sweat, down their bodies run.
Words of love trip off their tongue.
Tall and mighty
Bark textured rough
Their leaves small and flighty
Young children's shoes did scuff
Catching their dreams
As they climb so high
Of rescuing maidens
From pirates near by.
With bows and not so straight arrows
They grin and they smile
As they aim at a sparrow
and miss by a mile.
From it's branches they do swing
Hanging by a limb
Lot of noise, not muffled din.
Hot summer, time to swim.
poem by Robert Green
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By Our Will There Springs
by our will
there springs
our fatigue-
able days
an ever work-
man's limb
lays dead
half-spirited
half-spent life
of industry
what's left
by our will
we feel
half-dead
down midnight's moon
and howl-
complain
of our will
by the day
and no one but me
who thanks
my broken limb
poem by R. Absalom Catarata
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Bill and Joe
COME, dear old comrade, you and I
Will steal an hour from days gone by,
The shining days when life was new,
And all was bright with morning dew,
The lusty days of long ago,
When you were Bill and I was Joe.
Your name may flaunt a titled trail
Proud as a cockerel's rainbow tail,
And mine as brief appendix wear
As Tam O'Shanter's luckless mare;
To-day, old friend, remember still
That I am Joe and you are Bill.
You've won the great world's envied prize,
And grand you look in people's eyes,
With H O N. and L L. D.
In big brave letters, fair to see,--
Your fist, old fellow! off they go!--
How are you, Bill? How are you, Joe?
You've worn the judge's ermined robe;
You've taught your name to half the globe;
You've sung mankind a deathless strain;
You've made the dead past live again:
The world may call you what it will,
But you and I are Joe and Bill.
The chaffing young folks stare and say
"See those old buffers, bent and gray,--
They talk like fellows in their teens
Mad, poor old boys! That's what it means,"--
And shake their heads; they little know
The throbbing hearts of Bill and Joe!--
How Bill forgets his hour of pride,
While Joe sits smiling at his side;
How Joe, in spite of time's disguise,
Finds the old schoolmate in his eyes,--
Those calm, stern eyes that melt and fill
As Joe looks fondly up at Bill.
Ah, pensive scholar, what is fame?
A fitful tongue of leaping flame;
A giddy whirlwind's fickle gust,
That lifts a pinch of mortal dust;
A few swift years, and who can show
Which dust was Bill and which was Joe?
The weary idol takes his stand,
Holds out his bruised and aching hand,
While gaping thousands come and go,--
How vain it seems, this empty show!
Till all at once his pulses thrill;--
'T is poor old Joe's "God bless you, Bill!"
And shall we breathe in happier spheres
The names that pleased our mortal ears;
In some sweet lull of harp and song
For earth-born spirits none too long,
Just whispering of the world below
Where this was Bill and that was Joe?
No matter; while our home is here
No sounding name is half so dear;
When fades at length our lingering day,
Who cares what pompous tombstones say?
Read on the hearts that love us still,
Hic jacet Joe. Hic jacet Bill.
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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True Pain
The darkness overwhelms my soul
with a power so great you could never know
tell me why was i chosen,
chosen to bare this gift
this ultimate curse
you look at me, and what do you see
nothing, and that's whats hurt
i feel the flesh on my body being burnt
ohh the pain yea the pain
so great so marvelous
pain you could never know
what i live through every day
forever stuck in the dark
forever in pain
all when you're asleep
i gaze in your eyes too take your life
cause you get to sleep and i don't
i hear your voices as you complain
about every petty thing
but i don't so you don't hear me
and then you fall asleep
and feel good
whiles the battle in my mind continues
i have prayed for better days and have wandered
if the any as i walk through the dark
i am he
he is me
I AM PAIN...
poem by Robert Roberts
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The Riddle of the World
Know then thyself, presume not God to scan
The proper study of Mankind is Man.
Placed on this isthmus of a middle state,
A Being darkly wise, and rudely great:
With too much knowledge for the Sceptic side,
With too much weakness for the Stoic's pride,
He hangs between; in doubt to act, or rest;
In doubt to deem himself a God, or Beast;
In doubt his mind and body to prefer;
Born but to die, and reas'ning but to err;
Whether he thinks to little, or too much;
Chaos of Thought and Passion, all confus'd;
Still by himself, abus'd or disabus'd;
Created half to rise and half to fall;
Great Lord of all things, yet a prey to all,
Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurl'd;
The glory, jest and riddle of the world.
poem by Alexander Pope
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Brown Baby
Oscar brown jr
Brown baby brown baby
As you grow up I want you to drink from the plenty cup
I want you to stand up tall and proud
And I want you to speak up clear and loud
Brown baby brown baby brown baby
As years go by I want you to go with your head up high
I want you to live by the justice code
And I want you to walk down freedoms road
You little brown baby
So lie away lie away spleeping lie away singing
Lie away sleeping lie away safe in my arms
Till your daddy and you mama protect you
? nd keep you safe from harm
Brown baby
It makes me glad you gonna have things that I never had
When out of mens heart all hate is hurled
Sweetie you gonna live in a better world
Brown baby brown baby brown baby
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Him Rival to the Gods I Place
Him rival to the gods I place,
Him loftier yet, if loftier be,
Who, Lesbia, sits before thy face,
Who listens and who looks on thee;
Thee smiling soft. Yet this delight
Doth all my sense consign to death;
For when thou dawnest on my sight,
Ah, wretched! flits my labouring breath.
My tongue is palsied. Subtly hid
Fire creeps me through from limb to limb:
My loud ears tingle all unbid:
Twin clouds of night mine eyes bedim.
Ease is my plague: ease makes thee void,
Catullus, with these vacant hours,
And wanton: ease that hath destroyed
Great kings, and states with all their powers.
poem by Gaius Valerius Catullus
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These Are The Daze
Heh, y'all remember back in the days
When niggaz used to get they ass whooped for snakin cars
And had to go strip your own switch off the tree
These are the days
[Chorus: Trick Daddy + (singer)]
(These are the days)
These are the days (when we parlay)
When we parlayed (just me and my team)
Me and my team (out there livin our dream)
Ha, ha ha, Lord (look how far we've come)
Look how far we come (doin what we love)
Doin what we love (cause these are the days)
(ballin, we gon' hold on)
[Trick Daddy]
And I remember back in the days, if you ain't like a nigga
You let him know, then you asked for a fave
And then he coulda got a head up
Me and you after school in the front and we can tear it up
And everybody gon' know about it
Yep, so put down your set, and shut up, and be sho' about it
Cause everybody done lost one
But don't come home cryin unless your ass mind another one
And your ass better fight back
And you bet' not run and let it get back to mom
Cause, daddy ain't made no punks (uh-uh)
And, momma ain't raised no chumps (no way)
So, go 'head for what you know
Cause a lil' childhood fight's alright, but that's as far as it goes
Cause tomorrow we'll be best of friends
Never ever disagreein, now that's a friend, c'mon
[Chorus w/ minor variations]
[Trick Daddy]
Now leave the guns and the crack and the knives alone
It's, T-Double on the microphone, and I can
see trouble right in front your home
Far as the kid's concerned, let him live and learn
And let him grow to be older than us
Teach him more than gangbangin, drug deals and hold-ups
And slow up, hold that drinkin just a little bit
And when they wanna get high, just let 'em hear this
And let 'em hit it 'til they OD
Cause when they sober up, they gon' love and respect us
Now we havin mo' doctors, lawyers
Teachers, preachers, and deep-sea explorers
C'mon
[singer]
These are the days, Lord these are the days
These are the days (these are the days) Lord these are the days
(for the thugs)
[Trick Daddy]
Whatever happened to the momma and daddy jokes
And why you cuss so much, right in front of these old folks
That lady about seventy-five years old
That's twice my age, and fo' times yours
I know momma taught you better than that
Believe stuff like this'll give the ol' girl a heart attack
Always hollerin about child abuse and child neglect
Where the hell did you get that?
Shit the last time I checked
You ever lost self-respect, you got it put on your ass for that
And it happened right there where it went wrong
Part one's now, part two's at home
So from now on, it's yes ma'am or no sir
Put that behind you, questions and answers
Followed by thank you or no thanks
Or father may I be excused without bein rude
[Chorus w/ minor variations]
[ad libs]
[Trick Daddy]
Hold on, so this here should teach you a lesson y'know
Kids, y'know listen to your teachers at school and
Parents, need to pay attention to your kids at home
Therefore uh, know how to be hard on a child abuser
Child neglecter, where e'rybody nobody call HRS on us
Beat they lil' bad ass when they get out of line
That's what my momma did - fo' sho'
Ain't nuttin wrong with a lil' ass whuppin
The swellin gon' go down and the bleedin gon' stop
But your ass'll be alive, I'll bet you that
And umm, I put that on Pearl
song performed by by Trick Daddy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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These Are The Daze
Heh, y'all remember back in the days
When niggaz used to get they ass whooped for snakin cars
And had to go strip your own switch off the tree
These are the days
[Chorus: Trick Daddy + (singer)]
(These are the days)
These are the days (when we parlay)
When we parlayed (just me and my team)
Me and my team (out there livin our dream)
Ha, ha ha, Lord (look how far we've come)
Look how far we come (doin what we love)
Doin what we love (cause these are the days)
(ballin, we gon' hold on)
[Trick Daddy]
And I remember back in the days, if you ain't like a nigga
You let him know, then you asked for a fave
And then he coulda got a head up
Me and you after school in the front and we can tear it up
And everybody gon' know about it
Yep, so put down your set, and shut up, and be sho' about it
Cause everybody done lost one
But don't come home cryin unless your ass mind another one
And your ass better fight back
And you bet' not run and let it get back to mom
Cause, daddy ain't made no punks (uh-uh)
And, momma ain't raised no chumps (no way)
So, go 'head for what you know
Cause a lil' childhood fight's alright, but that's as far as it goes
Cause tomorrow we'll be best of friends
Never ever disagreein, now that's a friend, c'mon
[Chorus w/ minor variations]
[Trick Daddy]
Now leave the guns and the crack and the knives alone
It's, T-Double on the microphone, and I can
see trouble right in front your home
Far as the kid's concerned, let him live and learn
And let him grow to be older than us
Teach him more than gangbangin, drug deals and hold-ups
And slow up, hold that drinkin just a little bit
And when they wanna get high, just let 'em hear this
And let 'em hit it 'til they OD
Cause when they sober up, they gon' love and respect us
Now we havin mo' doctors, lawyers
Teachers, preachers, and deep-sea explorers
C'mon
[singer]
These are the days, Lord these are the days
These are the days (these are the days) Lord these are the days
(for the thugs)
[Trick Daddy]
Whatever happened to the momma and daddy jokes
And why you cuss so much, right in front of these old folks
That lady about seventy-five years old
That's twice my age, and fo' times yours
I know momma taught you better than that
Believe stuff like this'll give the ol' girl a heart attack
Always hollerin about child abuse and child neglect
Where the hell did you get that?
Shit the last time I checked
You ever lost self-respect, you got it put on your ass for that
And it happened right there where it went wrong
Part one's now, part two's at home
So from now on, it's yes ma'am or no sir
Put that behind you, questions and answers
Followed by thank you or no thanks
Or father may I be excused without bein rude
[Chorus w/ minor variations]
[ad libs]
[Trick Daddy]
Hold on, so this here should teach you a lesson y'know
Kids, y'know listen to your teachers at school and
Parents, need to pay attention to your kids at home
Therefore uh, know how to be hard on a child abuser
Child neglecter, where e'rybody nobody call HRS on us
Beat they lil' bad ass when they get out of line
That's what my momma did - fo' sho'
Ain't nuttin wrong with a lil' ass whuppin
The swellin gon' go down and the bleedin gon' stop
But your ass'll be alive, I'll bet you that
And umm, I put that on Pearl
song performed by by Trick Daddy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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