We can also fly
A winter afternoon
Just snowed and
Everything white everywhere
I was waiting in one of the busy
Airports of United States of America
To board a flight to New York
Delayed flights
I was wandering in the lounge
Afternoon turning to twilight
So soon, was my wonder
Checking in,
Security checks
Announcements
Calling people by name to board
All were busy
And I was waiting for
The announcement for
Boarding my flight
Overlooking the aircrafts
And people boarding thereon
Through the tall glass panel
And I happened to see
Two sparrows
Chasing one another
And perching on cables
And wires those were running along
The walls of the lounge
Did I hear them talking
It looked like that
One sparrow telling
'Why they are so busy'
The other answering
'They have rescheduled
Most of the flights and
They are trying to accommodate
Everything within a particular time'
'Oh, I see.
But how come they are not taking
A note of us'
'Why should they take a note of us'
'Because, we can also fly'
'You only can fly
But they make others too fly'
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Related quotes
Busy
I am busy
you are busy
we are busy
but the old woman needs help
to find her way home.
I am busy
you are busy
we are busy
but the dove is too slow
to fly out of the way.
I am busy
you are busy
we are busy
but the children crossing the street
are too many.
I am busy
you are busy
we are busy....
I am busy
you are busy
we are...
busy.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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As the School Bell Rings
Tis sharp two
in the afternoon.
The school bell rings
as the day is done.
After calm comes a storm
and the school ground now
is a turbulent sea -
of children in frenzied activity.
Some are running, some sprinting,
some scampering while some are strolling.
Some are walking towards the gate
while some are squatting on the staircase.
Some are running towards the school bus
while some are looking out for their parents.
Some are being escorted by their teachers
while some are busy chatting with their friends.
Mobile phones are ringing incessantly
and people are talking animatedly.
Bus drivers in buses are waiting impatiently
and the children inside are yelling frantically.
Tis now sharp three
in the afternoon.
Now comes calm after the storm
and the school ground now is a sea of serenity.
02 June 2010
11 am
poem by Gita Ashok
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My Canadian Chronicles 001
A friend once said to me
that he never had the adventures
that I have when I go on holiday.
Maybe he was right.
Today while sitting in the airport
lounge nervously waiting for our flight
when suddenly from the loudspeaker came.
“The fire detector has been activated in your section.
Please go to the nearest emergency exit.”
Now I was already having kittens
just thinking of the flight.
Now with that announcement
I was having puppies as well
and so started my day in the usual Harris style.
They say things can only get better.
All by body parts are crossed
and I hope they are right.
6 June 2009
poem by David Harris
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One Afternoon By The Cafe...
YOU get attuned to talking to yourself
while sitting on a bench
with coffee held by your left hand
your right hand simply doing nothing
you see the people passing by
like the hours in your
mind
like the hands of the watch
circling
busy, really busy
concentric and arriving at nothing
actually
it is the best that happens
in an afternoon
like this one
the manic days of March
meandering mind
reconnecting
readjusting....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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At the Airport
Fingers drumming on his lips
Eyes gazing deep into space
Baggage tucked between legs
Still unsure when the flight will take off
Fellow passenger waits at the airport.
Another one's serious, reading a novel
Adjusting the Nike cap to cover his eyes
Newspaper shuffles with a purring sound
A professional reviews his assignment
What a place to gain some knowledge!
One sips a coke, one takes a bite
Group of three play cards, a world unto themselves
A couple talk to their daughter
While the baby sleeps in mother's arms
Baby bottle and bags packed on the cart.
Behold the few that await an arriving flight
Man and lady developing a dialogue
One looking through the glass window
With all the eagerness on his face
A place filled with all emotions and moods.
Commotion rises as the boarding's announced
Baby and the family enter and then one by one
March through the corridor and fill up the plane
Waiting lounge's empty as the final call is made
I'm early for my flight and await my cycle.
poem by Tirupathi Chandrupatla
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Down Down
Getting busy
Cannot stop from calling the groove
Getting busy
Cannot stop from calling the groove
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
Feeling sexy, dirty thing got his eyes on me
Walks up close, took a stroke, getting down dirty
This is what you want
I'll make it so it goes on the floor
I'll have him begging for more
What you see's, what you're getting
You for me, you will stick it
It's so hot, in this kitchen
So baby let go
Wind yourself around and grab ahold and ride down
You gotta get down down
You gotta get down down
Feel the rythem driving, everybody's thriving
You gotta get down down
You gotta get down down
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
Would I like baggy jeans got the hip hop style
Come and slick my embrace take my number down
Well it's for fun I know it turns you on
Wanna bump and grind with me
Pull it out of the bag, yeah yeah
Wind yourself around and grab ahold and ride down
You gotta get down down (down down)
You gotta get down down (down down)
Feel the rythem driving, everybody's thriving
You gotta get down down (down down)
You gotta get down down (down down)
What you see's, what you're getting
You for me, you will stick it
It's so hot, in this kitchen
I'm so ready to go, ooh
Wind yourself around and grab ahold and ride down
You gotta get down down (down down)
You gotta get down down (down down)
Feel the rythem driving, everybody's thriving
You gotta get down down (down down)
You gotta get down down (down down)
Wind yourself around and grab ahold and ride down
You gotta get down down (down down)
You gotta get down down (down down)
Feel the rythem driving, everybody's thriving
You gotta get down down (down down)
You gotta get down down (down down)
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
song performed by by Sugababes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At 55
she sleeps with the
tv on
at 6 o'clock in the morning
in the kitchen the
breakfast is
cold
he walks upstairs
waiting for the sunrise
sparrows are busy
feeding the fledgelings
he sits on a chair
by the veranda overlooking
the sea
there alone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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An Afternoon Poem Is Rare
AN AFTERNOON POEM IS RARE
An Afternoon Poem is rare-
Afternoon is long after the first light-
Afternoon is a time of heaviness and quiet
A time of rest-
Afternoon is after the morning work has been done-
Afternoon is the weight of the day-
Afternoon is the time after the day has lost its freshness-
Still there must be afternoon poems-
There must be a beauty that emerges
In its own way,
Perhaps from where lovers meet
Perhaps from ‘ripeness is all’
Perhaps from the anticipation of evening
Perhaps from winter where it is the warmest time of day.
There must be afternoon poems-
Poems that celebrate all that warmth can bring-
Poems of rest poems of sleep-
Poems of waiting to believe
That in the evening
A new day and a new world
Will make life easier again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Barreness Of A Busy Life
Beware the barrenness of a busy life.
(Socrates)
bored as barren
a body that is bone-dry,
a walk in the desert,
dry as dust,
moistureless existence
lips parched,
a thirsty soul,
a life waterless
busy, busy, busy,
that is what you are.
beware, for soon
in seeking life
busy, busy, busy,
you lose it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I try to tell the people that are sort of new here when they come in and do their flights and whatever, the things that you remember most after your flights are the interactions you've had with your crew. Those are the most satisfying things you take away from a flight.
quote by Shannon Lucid
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nite Flights
Theres no hold
The moving has come through
The danger passing you
Turns its face into the heat and runs the tunnels
Its so cold
The dog dug up fine dogs
The stiches torn and broke
The wrong lick fist you choke has hit the blood light
Glass traps opened and close on nite flights
Broken necks, feather plates pressed and warped
Be my love, we will be gods on nite flights
With only one promise, only one way to fall
Glass traps opened and close on nite flights
Broken necks feather ways press the walls
Be my love, we will be gods on nite flights
With only one promise, only one way to call
On nite flights
On nite flights
Only one way to fall
On nite flights
On nite flights
On nite flights
Only one way to fall
Ah ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah ah
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Always Busy, Busy, Busy Doing Nothing....
...of having to rush
and keep on rushing
running and running
and telling
others that 'i am busy'
very much like the
busy waves of the sea
always rushing to
the shore
and then finally
having done
nothing
having brought nothing
having owned
nothing
nothing, nothing
nothing
(the only reality
we now have
this nothing
pretended by a rush
a busy life
a hardworking life
like
a cow, a bull,
a buffalo
accurately more
like a dog...
a rat, a worm
an aphid...)
poem by Sebastian Soberania
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Busy Bodies
So you think that you have seen her
When youre lying in between her
And you tell me that you dont care
Busy bodies getting nowhere
Evrybodys getting meaner
Busy bodies
Caught in the concertina
You check her outline
Break her regulations
You watch her legs through several
Service stations
Busy bodies
Very busy
Getting nowhere
Nowhere, nowhere, nowhere
Now youre ready for the merger
With the company youre part of
And you do the dirty business
With your latest sleeping partner
Youre becoming
Automatic
Busy bodies
Out playing with the traffic
You want attention
You try my patience
With the best intentions you are nothing but a nuisance
Busy bodies
Busy busy
Getting nowhere
Nowhere, nowhere, nowhere
Now youve given your performance
Though the matinee was idle
And you find that a wave of her right hand
Could seem so tidal
Just a second
Satisfaction
Busy bodies
Temporarily out of action
You wash and brush up
You want to dress up
You want to kiss her
But shes busy with her makeup
Busy bodies
Very busy
Getting nowhere
Nowhere (x6)
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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for Mr. Ron Mengzi
there is no one in his house
in the tropics who really know how to speak English
so he tries making monologues for himself
talking about his latest affairs
but it gets boring you know
and those in the neighborhood who hear
that he is talking to himself
think that he must have gone crazy
i want to talk to him but i am busy
always busy he complains
for i am the only who knows how to talk in English
but i am busy and so one day
Mr. Ron Mengzi walks towards the pond
and talks to the fish that he brought
from California
and there he had a nice English conversation
with the fish
all in figurative and
codified bubbles.
Some people who read this
do not think about Mr. Ron Mengzi at ll
They now talk about me
asking about my own sanity.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Busy on our I pads Aug 4th,2012
Busy on our I pads Aug 4th,2012
By
James Bredin
Ideas for the people and not the party, should be up front,
I can almost hear the party stalwarts as they quietly grunt,
Why are binding referendums never mentioned and forbidden?
And all new democratic ideas are delayed and overridden?
Politicians have this compulsion to leave things as they are,
They want to stay with the party and avoid saying au revoir,
Because Trudeau's Charter can't be changed or rearranged,
No compulsory voting or death with dignity arranged.
As those who object to an oil pipeline want their voices heard,
Which could put Canada on the same level as the Third World,
We just don't care because less than half of us even vote,
And we're too busy on our I pads to even take note.
Aug 4th,2012
poem by James Bredin
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Busy
hectic ecclectic that's a busy week
a little bit of this and a little bit of that
but the ends made never really met
busy people busy lines
coping day by day
a fee to add to membership fines
life's not ok...not ok
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A Ponderous Moment At Pizza Hut, Cagayan De Oro City
i am sitting in one of those commercial benches
of Pizza Hut
the glass walls divide me from the rest of this world
the sidewalk is filled with people rushing in different directions
the main road of this dusty city is filled with cars and trucks and
buses
if only i can hear their rush of horns and screeches of their rubberized wheels
i should have know better how noisy will it be
across the road is another set of people walking, rushing, running
they are all busy, and the dusts on their shoes have become too visible
like clouds of brown and gray on the surface of the pavements
and roads
inside is this peace of comfortable living
i have a plate of hot vegetable pizza, ice cold red tea,
vanilla sundae
as it is too early for the mall to open
there is only myself and the waitress who has well kept hair
a red apron as uniform and a very smiling face as mandated by the
rules of the establishment
inside the kitchen the chef is busy with his recipe and dough
i am pondering, why should people be too busy to forget about
how is it to be at peace with themselves
like having to do nothing with roads and dusts and work
i am at peace with myself, arrogating upon myself the much needed
vacation
this is my time, when i am not a part of the busy world
attached to no one, with no vested interest, no itinerary
i do not know yet what to do do really with my own spare time
how to make it productive as the Establishment would want me to do
i am at peace, and this is what i want, and this is what i mean,
Others are none of my business,
as i am too, am none to them...
sometimes i ask, why should i be busy? why should i be a part of
all these useless crowds?
i have only one life to live, and it is not that long enough for some
long range projects,
i must learn to enjoy it, to the full and so tomorrow i shall be shutting
myself off from everyone,
i am set to go in a far away island, swim on its blue sea,
rest upon its sand, bathe on the rays of the gentle sun.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I’m a busy man, I earn as I can
I’m a busy man, I earn as I can
Never bother who created man
I enjoy life as I can
People tell me, Get up early
I sleep late,
So go to hell
I’m a busy man, I earn as I can
Somewhere I read,
pray to god
I don’t have any time for that
I’m a busy man, I earn as I can
Mother says take care of health
I say most important is wealth
I’m a busy man, I earn as I can
Preachers preach,
Never be phony, Live honestly
I say fool as many
Being honest is being lousy
I’m a busy man, I earn as I can
My goal is money
Even if have to kill somebody
Life without money
Is bee without honey
I’m a busy man, I earn as I can
I met with an accident
Nobody lent a helping hand
I realized, I was disliked
I thought with all the might
To make life happy
One has to live rightly
Greed is worst for life
With it one can never rise
I’m a changed man
Contentment is my ambition
Now, I never earn as I can
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Fated
In a little cottage by the sea
She waits so patiently for me
Though we have never met you see
Fate knows our love some day will be.
Maybe she lives in the U.S.A.
Perhaps New York or even Santa fe
I'll board a flight to her someday
When fate decides to show the way.
I've always loved her through my tears
Been waiting for a million years.
A needle in a haystack I'm told
But her smiles still warm
A heart that's cold.
A bell will ring
small voice I'll hear
Then serendipity will make it clear
Those trains we miss
The plans we change
Impossible love fate will arrange
And when we meet two hearts will skip
On 52nd street or
On board a ship
We'll sail away at last fulfilled
And drink Champagne
That fate kept chilled.
poem by Kevin East
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Walk And Talk It
I'm waiting for my man, 26 Dollars in my hand
Up to Lexington 125
Feel sick and dirty, more dead than alive
I'm waiting for my man
Hey white boy, what you doing uptown
Hey white boy, you chasing our women around ?
Oh, pardon me, Sir, it's furthest from my mind
I'm just lookin' for a dear, dear friend of mine
I'm waiting for my man
Here he comes, he's all dressed in black
P.R. shoes and and big straw hat
He's never early, he's always late
First thing you learn is that you always gotta wait
I'm waiting for my man
Up to a Brownstone, up three flights of stairs
Everybody's pinned you, but nobody cares
He's got the works, gives you sweet taste
Then you gotta split
Because you've got no time to waste, ah
I'm waiting for my man
Baby, don't you holler
Darling don't you bawl and shout
I'm feeling so good
I'm gonna work it all out
I'm feeling good, I'm feeling oh so fine
Until tomorrow, but that's just some other time
I'm waiting for my man
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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