Thoughts In A Zoo
They in their cruel traps, and we in ours,
Survey each other’s rage, and pass the hours
Commiserating each the other’s woe,
To mitigate his own pain’s fiery glow.
Man could but little proffer in exchange
Save that his cages have a larger range.
That lion with his lordly, untamed heart
Has in some man his human counterpart,
Some lofty soul in dreams and visions wrapped,
But in the stifling flesh securely trapped.
Gaunt eagle whose raw pinions stain the bars
That prison you, so men cry for the stars!
Some delve down like the mole far underground,
(Their nature is to burrow, not to bound),
Some, like the snake, with changeless slothful eye,
Stir not, but sleep and smoulder where they lie.
Who is most wretched, these caged ones, or we,
Caught in a vastness beyond our sight to see?
poem by Countee Cullen
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Related quotes
The Eagle and the Mole
Avoid the reeking herd,
Shun the polluted flock,
Live like that stoic bird,
The eagle of the rock.
The huddled warmth of crowds
Begets and fosters hate;
He keeps above the clouds
His cliff inviolate.
When flocks are folded warm,
And herds to shelter run,
He sails above the storm,
He stares into the sun.
If in the eagle's track
Your sinews cannot leap,
Avoid the lathered pack,
Turn from the steaming sheep.
If you would keep your soul
From spotted sight or sound,
Live like the velvet mole:
Go burrow underground.
And there hold intercourse
With roots of trees and stones,
With rivers at their source,
And disembodied bones.
poem by Elinor Morton Wylie
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Save Me - (by LionTamer)
Families destroyed, screams of pain.
visions from hell, keep me insane.
eyelids stitched open, I lay awake
What have we done for heavens sake.
Satan knows my name for sure.
Sins to pay, on the list to burn I am.
committed against the soul,
committed against man.
Baby doll heads, wooden toys
Smoldering with ashes
Remnants of innocence amongst human waste.
Remnants of evil of men with no taste.
Amongst these monsters I hide my mind.
I hide the feelings that bind human kind.
In a caged existence so I am
Surrounded by monsters
that feed on innocence
to fuel their ignorance.
In a feeding upon my fellow man.
Someone save me. Save my soul.
Wash my hands clean
and make me whole.
Someone please save me.
poem by Lion Tamer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I know why the caged bird sings
i know why the caged bird sings
it is the only thing it can do
to cheer up the day
the way i write this poem
the only thing i enjoy
to rev up the day
if the day is the cage
that releases this heart
to pen this poem
i would rather be with you
a poem a day to cheer up world
bars do not cages make
they do say and yes
the freest in the street
may be flying into cages
but like a bird, i would sing my songs
to the world each day to help
the caged find a way out of their blues
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Sumter In Ruins
I.
Ye batter down the lion's den,
But yet the lordly beast g'oes free;
And ye shall hear his roar again,
From mountain height, from lowland glen,
From sandy shore and reedy fen--
Where'er a band of freeborn men
Rears sacred shrines to liberty.
II.
The serpent scales the eagle's nest,
And yet the royal bird, in air,
Triumphant wins the mountain's crest,
And sworn for strife, yet takes his rest,
And plumes, to calm, his ruffled breast,
Till, like a storm-bolt from the west,
He strikes the invader in his lair.
III.
What's loss of den, or nest, or home,
If, like the lion, free to go;--
If, like the eagle, wing'd to roam,
We span the rock and breast the foam,
Still watchful for the hour of doom,
When, with the knell of thunder-boom,
We bound upon the serpent foe!
IV.
Oh! noble sons of lion heart!
Oh! gallant hearts of eagle wing!
What though your batter'd bulwarks part,
Your nest be spoiled by reptile art--
Your souls, on wings of hate, shall start
For vengeance, and with lightning-dart,
Rend the foul serpent ere he sting!
V.
Your battered den, your shattered nest,
Was but the lion's crouching-place;--
It heard his roar, and bore his crest,
His, or the eagle's place of rest;--
But not the soul in either breast!
This arms the twain, by freedom bless'd,
To save and to avenge their race!
poem by William Gilmore Simms
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Whenever I see birds caged in a home!
Whenever I see birds caged in a home-
With small colourful birds behind the bars
Screaming pathetically and crying for freedom
Fluttering their wings in a feverish pitch
Not caring for the seeds or the cup of water inside
And wounding their wings and beaks
As they dash against the unyielding bars
With full of fright, anger and despair in eyes
Wasting what little energy they have in futile attempts
Cursing their fate amidst the heartless owners
Who boast to all visitors of their love of birds
Proudly stating as their presentation to their children-.
I fume and call upon God to curse their dear children
For a life behind sturdy prison bars at once
To let them learn the hardest way a caged life!
I declare now that anyone who enjoys caged birds
Assures a prison sentence for his descendants
And acquire a disease that would torment him at every step
And he would never have a peaceful life or death!
Oh..how cruel it is to see in markets tens of rare breeds
Stacked in small cages in blistering heat and with improper feed! Alas! what this blue cross does?
Have they closed their eyes and ears to this cruelty?
Just for the assumed pleasure of your kids
Do not break the wings and throats of tiny songsters!
O foolish folks! don't you hear their curses on your family!
O idiots! you are not filling your chambers with their warbling
But with their cries of anguish from the pits of abdomens!
If God fails to curse you take my curse, O folks who love caged souls! ; You shall suffer from incurable diseases
And ever walk in the shadow of death!
And you pass this curse on to your descendants too!
Take seriously this clarion call on behalf of winged folks
And release them to the free winds and blue skies!
Gain your joy in their songs from their hideouts of green trees!
-
S.CHANDRA KALAADHAR
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Sympathy
I know what the caged bird feels, alas!
When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;
When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass,
And the river flows like a stream of glass;
When the first bird sings and the first bud opes,
And the faint perfume from its chalice steals--
I know what the caged bird feels!
I know why the caged bird beats his wing
Till its blood is red on the cruel bars;
For he must fly back to his perch and cling
When he fain would be on the bough a-swing;
And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars
And they pulse again with a keener sting--
I know why he beats his wing!
I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,--
When he beats his bars and he would be free;
It is not a carol of joy or glee,
But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core,
But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings--
I know why the caged bird sings!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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The Cowboy And The Rainbow... ' (Cowboy Poem # 3)
A Cowboy, Neath A Rainbow
Rode The Range, Far and Free
Holding Lightning Reins, and A Lasso
Strung Around His Untamed Dreams
Riding On His Horse, named Bullseye-Shoot
A Big, Bay Thoroughbred
Galloped Long, Nudged by The Cowboy’s Boots
To Race, As Dark Clouds Fled …
… Away, As Each Hoof Struck The Ground
Sounding, Just Like Thunder!
The Cowboy and Horse, Were Rainbow-Bound
Both, A Romantic, Climatic-Color Wonder!
Flashing Across The Range
On A Silver Saddle and Same Kind of Spurs
The Cowboy’s Hat and Horse’s Tail and Mane
And Sunset … All Became A Rainbow-Blur …
As The Cowboy, Lassoed The Wind
So Fast, They Did Go!
So Fast, His Lariat Did Spin …
I Think He Caught His Rainbow…
… A Cowboy Neath A Rainbow
Rode The Range, Far and Free
Holding Lightning Reins and A Lasso
Strung Around His Untamed Dreams …
poem by MoonBee Canady
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The Caged Bird Cries...
i do not know why a caged bird sings?
or shall it sing when caged?
or shall it cry instead?
i know cages, and i have met some birds,
i have seen birds on cages
and i have heard them sing on trees
i have listened them when caged
it is not a song, but a cry,
it is not a dance, but a struggle,
it is not a poem, but the saddest prose.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Nature & Its Beauty
beauty is nature in all it's glory,
preaching us a lot of story.
fall, winter, summer & spring,
the site of the nature is a beautiful thing.
as the sun sets my heart did rise,
the stars shined within the skies.
my soul glowed as the wind stirred,
my breath caught at a sound of a bear.
little animals moving through in night,
climbing, slithering, roaring in flight.
darkness en wrapped me with a comforting touch,
oh i love this nature so much.
filled with happiness & desperate love,
nature has adorn this beautiful earth.
helping us as a gift of god,
nature provided us love of all sort.
for all it's goodness we have altered it by & by,
so much so that the nature would cry.
it's time for us to pay nature's dew,
not for me & not for you.
just do your bit to regain the beauty of nature,
so let us save this huge creature...!
poem by Rajat chandra
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Samuel Taylor Coleridge
HIS Soul fared forth (as from the deep home-grove
The father-songster plies the hour-long quest),
To feed his soul-brood hungering in the nest;
But his warm Heart, the mother-bird, above
Their callow fledgling progeny still hove
With tented roof of wings and fostering breast
Till the Soul fed the soul-brood. Richly blest
From Heaven their growth, whose food was Human Love.
Yet ah! Like desert pools that show the stars
Once in long leagues,—even such the scarce-snatched hours
Which deepening pain left to his lordliest powers:—
Heaven lost through spider-trammelled prison-bars.
Six years, from sixty saved! Yet kindling skies
Own them, a beacon to our centuries.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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The Soul Cages
The boy child is locked in the fishermans yard
Theres a bloodless moon where the ocean died
A shoal of nightstars hang fire in the nets
And the chaos of cages where the crayfish lie
Where is the fisherman, where is the goat?
Where is the keeper in his carrion coat?
Eclipse on the moon when the dark bird flies
Where is the child with his fathers eyes?
There are the soul cages these are the soul cages
Hes the king of the ninth world
The twisted son of the fog bells toll
In each and every lobster cage
A tortured human soul
These are the souls of broken factories
The subject slaves of the broken crown
The dead accounting of old guilty promises
These are the souls of the broken town
These are the soul cages these are the soul cages
These are the soul cages these are the soul cages
i have a wager the brave child spoke
The fisherman laughed, though disturbed at the joke
you will drink what I drink but you must equal me
And if the drink leaves me standing,
A soul shall go free
i have here a cask of most magical wine
A vintage that blessed every ship in the line
Its wrung from the blood of the sailors who died
Young white bodies adrift in the tide
and whats in it for me my pretty young thing?
Why should I whistle, when the caged bird sings?
If you lose a wager with the king of the sea
Youll spend the rest of forever in the cage with me
These are the soul cages these are the soul cages
These are the soul cages these are the soul cages
A body lies open in the fishermans yard
Like the side of a ship where the iceberg rips
One less soul in the soul cages
One last curse on the fishermans lips
These are the soul cages these are the soul cages
These are the soul cages these are the soul cages
Swim to the light swim to the light
He dreamed of the ship on the sea
It would carry his father and he
To a place they could never be found
To a place far away from this town
A newcastle ship without coals
They would sail to the island of souls
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mole From The Ministry
If you think theres something wrong
Holes appearing on your lawn
Dont you blame the man next door
Its not him
Flowers walk from place to place
Dark spot moves around your face
Objects vanish without trace
Its not you
Im the mole from the ministry
And youll all bow down to me
Im the mole in your potting shed
Im the bad thoughts inside your head
And you wont catch me
(fish and visitors smell after three days)
If you thinks theres something strange
Garden starts to rearrange
From perfect lawn to mountain range
Its not you
Im the mole from the ministry
Working underground
And youll all bow down to me
Moving facts and figures all around
Im the mole in your potting shed
Undermine your world
Im the bad thoughts inside your head
And you shouldnt think me, no!
And you shouldnt think me
Mole
Mole
Mole
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wings
DAWN opes her pensive eyes,
In the yet starry skies,
A roseate blush upon her cheek and brows.
Her purple mantle still
Lies on the sky-kissed hill,
And a blue, solemn shade thereon it throws.
The earth lies hushed and calm.
No chant of praise, no psalm
Riseth to greet the rose-crowned queen of day.
Each blade of grass, each leaf,
Stands out in sharp relief,
Against the rayless blue and silver gray.
All nature seems to wait
For some new deed of Fate;
The silence is a sacred, reverent prayer,—
When hark! from some sweet throat
One thrilling, quivering note
Fills with its tremulous music all the air.
Then from the dewy grass
A tiny form doth pass,
A little soul all music and all wings.
All nature's voice is heard,
Embodied in this bird,
That darteth up and, rising, ever sings.
It mounteth still and sings:
What soul yearns not for wings,
To follow after, burst its prison bars,
And learn the secret there,
In those clear realms of air,
The secret of the rainbow and the stars;
To rush as swift as light,
Within those regions bright
Of throbbing, scintillant, intensest blue;
The air all breathless cleave,
And far below to leave
Regrets and tears, the raindrop and the dew.
Ah! caged 'mongst meaner things,
The soul can use no wings,
And beats against the bars it cannot pass;
But it might humbly turn,
Essaying first to learn
The secret of the flowers and the grass.
poem by Emma Lazarus
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A Dreaming Bird in Caged
A Dreaming Bird in Caged
By: Adam M. Snow
My eyes be blind to thee,
My heart cold like a December morn.
Could condescension be,
A merit of a scorn?
My ethereal pain scourge my heart,
Thoughts of you lost in pass
You beckon my soul from the start,
I might obey, but not surpass.
If I may live not a bird in caged,
Who sings to please but dreams to be free.
My every moments aged,
And I still blind to see,
I'm not myself,
Just a bird on your shelf.
poem by Adam M. Snow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Beautiful Bird That Cannot Escape From The Cage
there is a beautiful bird caged in my house
its flumes are red
its beak of course is black
its claws neat and clean
and cannot scratch
its eyes blank
its feathers dull
(perhaps she is bored to death
but she is still that beautiful bird caged in the heart
of my house)
when she sings
usually in the night before everyone sleeps
everyone hears
what sadness lies in the heart of its
throat
i know that it wants to escape from the cage in the heart of the house
but someone more cruel
wants it caged
forever
there is a beautiful red bird caged in my heart
i want it set free
she understands it well
she wants to be free
i know it too well
but things will just be what it is
there is nothing we can do
she is the beautiful red feathered bird caged
and shall never be free
like the stairs, like the walls, like the beams like the stars
shall this red bird be.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Slow Burn
I've got a name for a certain quarantine her name is slowburn she makes me feel real mean when i ask why she says i'm caught in a lie she's got a bad disguise i ask a question never got a reaction and caught a glimpse subtle distraction instinctive stomach pain i lie in bed awake again this time its my revenge i wanna be you already beaten when you are bound i'm free (dying under me) i' like to hold you so close you know i'm there (there is no refuge (rage you cant refuse) slowburn I've got a name for someone who shouldnt be in my mind when she's away it seems i can't escape i'm doing time without a place to go i'm lost inside nobody knows the rules will have to bend i wanna be you already beaten me when you are bound i'm free. (dying under me) i' like to hold you so close you know i'm there (there is no refuge (rage you cant refuse) slowburn this has been a process and i'm sorry i had to do you in like this and i cant say how good i feel about it there was so much so much that you stope you took my heart you took my soul but most of all you took my sanity now watch while i asses the situation at hand this had has turned to a fist i wanna be you already beaten when you are bound i'm free (dying under me) i' like to hold you so close you know i'm there (there is no refuge (rage you cant refuse) slowburni wanna be you already beaten when you are bound i'm free (dying under me) i' like to hold you so close you know i'm there (there is no refuge (rage you cant refuse) slowburn
song performed by by 1208
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jealous?
I know I'm pretty,
not to be vein...
I know if we play,
it's me that will gain.
I'm not dark,
not self absorbed...
It's my own life...
I cannot afford.
Just when do they see
past the flesh of me?
Just when do I truly
get to be me?
I can be dressed up,
I can be not dressed...
But it's my insides dear...
that you've missed.
I am a whole person,
with battle scars...
totally not my thing to hang out
in bars...
I cannot be caged,
inside me,
RAGE! ! ! !
So I cannot ask anything from
you...
But wait, yes, just in your
heart
be true.
Thank you! ! !
Dream catcher
Enchanted web woven by silken touch,
a crowd of tangled dreams to filter through;
Visions of raw enmeshed sight too much,
torment by night before morning anew.
O come bright dance, flutter around sleep's head.
Feathers on soft tendrils by warm spell sown,
hang down throughout long night above tucked bed
up coil tortured spectres, make them your own.
Send forth from wooded hills the eagle hawk.
Gather in talons sharp discarded fright,
leave dreams full of nature's bounteous walk
across eyes that sleep still through gentle night.
Let knowing wind ancient lullabies sing
and protect love's dreams under catcher's wing
poem by Diana Rosser
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Visions
Prove to me, what I see
What I hear, my God
Prove to me, what I see
What I hear, my God
Take my pride, capture my flesh
Take my flesh, capture my pride
Take my pride, capture my flesh
Take my flesh, capture my pride
With the righteous wisdom
Spiritual insight
Check the knowledge
And it shall come to pass
Afterword
That I will pour out my spirit on all flesh
And your sons and your daughters shall prophesied
Your old men shall dream dreams
And your young men shall see visions
Jesus Christ is what I see
Jesus Christ is what I see
Jesus Christ is what I see
Jesus Christ is what I see
Prove to me, who I see
Who I hear, my God
Prove to me, who I see
Who I hear, my God
song performed by by P.O.D.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gates Of Tomorrow
Weaving a thread round your heart and your soul
Deceiving your eyes and delaying your goal
Ships in the night when they pass out of sight
Deliver their cargo of earthly delights
To the women and the children the souls of the dead
I've opened their book and no mercy is shed
You want forgiveness and you want it cheap
I don't give redemption rewards for the meek
Suffering evil when you pay the price of fame
There isn't a god to save you if you don't save yourself
You can't blame a madman if you go insane
Give me the strength so I carry on
Trapped in the web but I cut the threads
Show you the gates of tomorrow
Trapped in the web no mercy is shed
Show you the gates of tomorrow
Trapped in the web slaves to the dead
Show you the gates of tomorrow
Trapped in the web but I cut the threads
Show you the gates of tomorrow
Suffering evil when you pay the price of fame
There isn't a god to save you if you don't save yourself
You can't blame a madman if you go insane
Give me the strength so I carry on
Trapped in the web but I cut the threads
Show you the gates of tomorrow
Trapped in the web no mercy is shed
Show you the gates of tomorrow
Trapped in the web slaves to the dead
Show you the gates of tomorrow
Trapped in the web but I cut the threads
Show you the gates of tomorrow
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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