Related quotes: I often sit in my...

Birds

I often sit in my car
and write a poem or two
and all the time my eyes
are gazing at the sky,
trying to identify
all the birds I see fly by.
As there is a moat
near where I sit
and the number of birds
increase during the summer months.
I watch them dive down
near to the waters edge
to take a quenching sip.

13 March 2008

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Related quotes

A Poem To Change The World

I wish I could write a poem that would change the world
A world with barbwire fences
Try to cross and you get stuck
You get pinned and you can’t come back
Ya
If I could just write a poem that would take those barbwire fences down

I wish I could write a poem that would change the world
With spotlights that blind rather than show the way
You have to look away
With spots in your eyes you cannot see
Ya
If I could just write a poem that would turn those spot lights away

I wish I could write a poem that would change the world
Airplanes that get you there if you can pay the fair
If you’re poor, you will work hard but go no where
Those who fly, are they thankful to the sky
Ya
If I could just write a poem that would make this world fair

I wish I could write a poem that would change the world
What is worse is war
And it is over there, where we send our children
There is nothing here but fear
Ya
I wish I could write a poem that make that no more

How much longer will the birds and trees
have to put up with our dirty breeze
All the water in this world
someday none of it will be safe to drink
If I could just write a poem that would clean up this mess

poem by Roger Harkness
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Finder Of The Exit

AROUND us are WALLS,
ALWAYS walls,
all walls, and up our longings
are our longings
like a sky up there
all sky, pure blue sky

we are never birds
by design
we are the geckos on walls
we always sound
echoes, lots of echoes that
return to us
from these walls around us

we are an island surrounded by water
down there
down here
there must be an exit

we must dive and be not afraid to drown
because we are never birds by design

there must be a cave where these waters
get inside us

we dive, dive deeper into our oceans of doubt
there is an exit

i know, now, where. Follow me.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

When the birds fly

When the birds fly
the mind opens its eye
the heart looks up to the sky
the birds fly.

The birds fly south
the ear opens its mouth
the nose sees summer
the kids they are playing out...

When the birds fly
we dream our words dont die.
Reborn with a babys cry
the birds fly leaving stars
they stay in the night,
we are the birds
we escape to the light.

poem by Daniel McCann
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A Not a Poem Poem

I will not write a poem
For I am not a poet
I cannot makes things rhyme
I’ve tried for quite some time
So will I write a poem?
NO!

I can’t write poetry
I’ve tried to all my life
Once, I tried to write a poem
About a husband and his wife
It sounded really silly
So I crumbled it up into a ball
That’s why I decided
That I couldn’t write poetry at all
Am I gonna write a poem?
NO!

Well, I’ll try to write a poem
But it will be really bad
It will be absolutely lousy
It will be completely horrible
It won’t be up to snuff
People will say, “Who wrote this stuff? ”
Will my poem be good?
NO!

Can I write a poem?
NO!

Will I write a poem?
NO!

Well, what do you know! ? !
I wrote a poem!
And it’s a pretty good poem, too!
I guess I can write poetry if I try
The next time I’m asked to write a poem,
Will I say no?
NO!

poem by Maya Reid
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The unsung death

Once there were singing birds with me.
Then it was my spring.
Then there were perching birds with me.
Then it was my summer.
Then there were pecking birds with me.
It was my autumn.
Now there are woodpeckers with me.
It is my winter, the end.
Those who know my greens will not be there
To sing my glory in the funeral.
Those who would be present at funeral,
Haven’t seen my greens to sing.
30.05.2008

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Why Birds Mock MY bull

My giant bull has colours
Has this colour
Has that colour
Have teeth of wolf
Has own moon
They have their months
The months of birds
The months of animals
Why birds mock you
Of your colours
It's God who give you
This colours
The birds mock you
That's why the bat
Swear before God
That the sun can't give
Birth to calves
And the moon shall
Gives birth to stars
The sun got angry with bat
God put red line between
Bat and sun
By separating day and night
Sun moves in day time
Bat moves at night time

poem by David Aoloch Bion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Poets March

The Poets all march to the edge-
some perching
at the abyss of Screaming Desire;
Hearts exploding
Love reeling;

say not to those that Poet
that Desire is loathing
for those that believe this
back away
while we others
leap over Faith's abyss
smiling.

The Poets all march to the edge
of Faith
and blind we do not see
beyond the edge
we so desire
but Courage
whispers to our Faith
and we make the Swan Dive.

Poets march to the edge of Poetry
and some of us weeping
asking where did the this poem come from
and we kneel in the pew
saying
what grips me is
its Thundering,
Awesome
Mystery.

All poets march
to paper and pen
blanked canvas staring
secure in the driven-ness
that
carving out tiny word sculptures-

of noun, simile and metaphor-

will produce Language Hymns
to echo all through Literature's Cathedral;

that word miens will sing
under that fine canopy
whispering;

Its Poetry
It's the Poetry
within me
defiantly
being
born.

I am
Her hostage
for good
or ill.

poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Birds Are Not My Epic

When I’ll write an epic for the animals
Particularly birds with their wings and beaks and claws
They’ll make me sick to think of them in the bathroom
When all the intense images I’ll see are them flying
Over and above my head out from the shower faucet
Those weird throbbing like needles on my skins
Are brandishing my mortality to hate the images
I admit of them my number one phobia
I cannot run a writing race overnight with such of them as characters
They can be epic but they cannot be mine
Say if my rationality is purely an excuse
But I am this mortal who does fear
Birds are birds and I cannot undress them
Who has dreads and who has courage?
Birds are not my epic

poem by Chester Maynes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Red Cap

To drink the waters of love,
To drink the waters of Sihor,
To drink the waters of the Euphrates River!
And like food for your birds and love for your pets,
But the red cap is very important to you;
So, i have to put it on always for to identify me among the lot.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Scribbler's Stymie

Pen and paper in sight
I've got no poem to write

Staying up all night
I've got no poem to write

Although my mind is bright
I've got no poem to write

It's windy out tonight, should I go fly a kite?
I've got no poem to write

My ceiling, it is white
I've got no poem to write

It's 4: 59! Five, but not quite
I've got no poem to write

In your arms I'd feel so light
I've got no poem to write

I've had no sleep tonight
I've got no poem to write

Will you just hold me tight?
I've got no poem to write

Outside it's almost light
I've got no poem to write

It's late, off goes my light
I've got no poem to write

poem by Julia Grace
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

early days ***** SEPTEMBER POEM

My hand is running as magic pen
when i write, September Poem
my heart is beating like a lyre
when I read each poem's line

The grasses are growing green
when I write, September Poem
hymn of birds singing with glee
Humming the written verse at tree

The soothing wind is coming from plain
when I write, September Poem
It blows softly 'round my ears
gives colors of the days

poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Set them free..They will multiply..

Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time,
colorful birds to colored birds,
chirping birds to singing birds,
flying birds to walking birds,
cunning birds to love birds,
Watching birds is just a lesson,
making mind to have a vision.

collect the twigs to make the nest,
one by one, they think the best,
choose the right tree,
just high and free,
Making the nest perfect,
without any single defect,
The birds toil together or alone,
all day long until it is done.

I bought two love birds,
that were kept in a cage.
Hung the cage under the balcony,
above the reach of dogs not felony.
chirping disturbed their sleep,
Nikko, the dog set them free.
Only two flew away,
but I have a few dozens now,
making their nests,
right in front of me, on the trees.

Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Soar

Eyes
After the birds fly
Soul winged

High
The azure on clouds
Soul rests

Dive
The birds to fish
Life back

Life
Haven to heaven
Soar

poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

So Deep

In the Ocean birds dive
In the embroideries
they take and give
That's my angel
Whispers...in the waters
Of life
And silence, drives
the night

poem by Paul Mwenelupembe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Gannets

I've never once seen them on land though from the shore I see
Them with folded wings from dizzy heights diving into the sea
And then they rise out of the waves and upwards again fly
These hunters of the ocean who stalk their prey from the sky.

To watch gannets fishing is an amazing sight
They fly above the ocean and dive from a great height
I once see one dead on a beach it was washed in by the tide
Born on a cliff ledge overlooking the sea and out at sea it died.

The gannets are true fishing birds on humans for food they don't rely
They roost and breed on remote ocean cliffs and of human kind are shy
They are birds I don't often see they are seldom close to the shore
Though I recall I once watched them fish for a half an hour or more.

True ocean birds born by the sea and out at sea they die
With folded wings they dive for fish like rockets from the sky
A guttural noise the only sound they make they do not have a song
They take their living from the sea and to the sea they belong.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Not Like The Birds.

Mother said
there would be men

like that
and that they’d say

and do
those kinds of things

and looking back
over the months

he has behaved
as Mother predicted

right down
to the cheap flowers

and false promises
and the always

wanting sex
and to be alone

and that constant groan of
come on Honey

one more time
and yet

as you reflect on him
and his ways

and that look he has
when feeling put out

and the what maybe
the real him

when he doesn’t know
you’re studying

his features
and gestures

and listening to his words
you know

you shouldn’t be with him
but fly off

like the birds
but you’re not

like the birds at all
you’re just

a woman in love
and unsure

of the reasons why
so you’ll not be

like the birds
and make off to the sky.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

When you go Away

When you go away, my friend,
When you say your last good-bye,
Then the summer time will end,
And the winter will be nigh.

Though the green grass decks the heather,
And the birds sing all the day,
There will be no summer weather
After you have gone away.

When I look into your eyes,
I shall thrill with deepest pain,
Thinking that beneath the skies
I may never look again.

You will feel a moment's sorrow,
I shall feel a lasting grief;
You forgetting on the morrow,
I to mourn with no relief.

When we say the last sad word,
And you are no longer near,
And the winds and all the birds
Cannot keep the summer here,

Life will lose its full completeness---
Lose it not for you, but me;
All the beauty and the sweetness
Each can hold, I shall not see.

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Aubade And I Am Not Like Other Birds Of Prey

Morning at last!
Every night is a fight till you're waking
Dreams dancing past
Through the silence of sleep
Dawn is breaking
I wake and watch them till then
And I am not like other birds of prey
And I am not like other birds of prey
Oh, night is long, you won't needing me
For a dressed up time I am there to see
That fear holds no sway
Soft is my plan
And my eyes kill the lies that felt happy
Life is my right
And in sleep's little bed
I'll protect you
So, hear, let my presence dismay
That I am not like other birds of prey
That I am not like other birds of prey
When hopes are young and your cares are few
Then I'm sure above keeping truth in you
And my name is love
Submitted by Michael Hack

song performed by by Supertramp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

This Is Just An Exercise

this poem
is a morning poem

i write it when
the sun begins to peep
between the two hills
where my house
stands

i write it when the dews
are still alive
glistening with life
on the green leaves
on the white petals
of the flowers

i write it when the birds
start to chirp
and in flocks start
to leave the trees
where they
sleep for the
whole dark night

oh, this poem is nothing
it is just an idea
just an exercise of the mind
this morning

just to assure myself
that i am still a rational being
in touch with art
honed to the skills
of humanity

oh, this is just nothing
but a prelude
to my day

a day
when we wish
we are not thinking at all