Thomas Ross, Jr.
This I saw with my own eyes:
A cliff-swallow
Made her nest in a hole of the high clay-bank
There near Miller's Ford.
But no sooner were the young hatched
Than a snake crawled up to the nest
To devour the brood.
Then the mother swallow with swift flutterings
And shrill cries
Fought at the snake,
Blinding him with the beat of her wings,
Until he, wriggling and rearing his head,
Fell backward down the bank
Into Spoon River and was drowned.
Scarcely an hour passed
Until a shrike
Impaled the mother swallow on a thorn.
As for myself I overcame my lower nature
Only to be destroyed by my brother's ambition.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Related quotes
I Swallow
I swallow pride,
I swallow guilt,
I swallow everything he spilt.
I wipe away the remnants of,
What is left of both our love.
I swallow all that is not seen,
I swallow every broken dream,
I swallow when I want to scream,
This by itself is magic.
I swallow if just for his likes,
I swallow and it’s tragic.
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Birds Nest
Have you not seen the bird
flying far, again and again
collecting straws to weave a nest-
a home- for its young ones to be.
As eggs are hatched
out come the young
chirping or crying, to be fed,
the bird flies again, and again
collecting grains
to feed the young
who cannot fly
It chews the grain but does not swallow
beak to beak it feeds young fellow
caressingly and lovingly
so all are fed properly.
Young get wings, by and by:
and coaxed by the mother bird;
attempt to fly.
Then suddenly one day
the young one flies far away
It knows not where: and
The nest gets barren,
Lonely...
The bird DOES NOT GRIEVE
OR DOES IT
We humans, we do not know.
An Old-Time Lay
Where your brood seven lie,
Float in calm heavenly,
Life passing evenly,
Waterfowl, waterfowl! often I dream
For a rest
Like your nest,
Skirting the stream.
Shine the sun tearfully
Ere the clouds clear fully,
Still you skim cheerfully,
Swallow, oh! swallow swift! often I sigh
For a home
Where you roam
Nearing the sky!
Guileless of pondering;
Swallow-eyes wandering;
Seeking no fonder ring
Than the rose-garland Love gives thee apart!
Grant me soon--
Blessed boon!
Home in thy heart!
poem by Victor Hugo
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ThE pAiN..........
I'll swallow the pain of being misunderstood.
I'll swallow the pain of being no good.
I'll just swallow the pain of not fitting in.
I'll just swallow the pain of not deserving.
I'll swallow the pain of hiding myself.
I'll swallow the pain of having no help.
I'll just swallow the pain of being constantly hurt.
I'll just swallow the pain of being thought as a nerd.
I'll swallow the pain of breaking my heart.
And in all of my dreams, with sorrow I'll part........
poem by Urmila Reghunath
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An Epilogue to a Prologue
A nest of intricate design
A piece of art unmatched in decor
Amid the verdurous darkness
Of needle like leaves
The gay habitat of a swallow and her brood.
How suddenly it erupts into a clatter of sounds,
As the mother bird comes diving in
With a wee bit of a wriggling worm
Discreetly borne in her tiny beak.
Thrusting it into the gaping mouths
She departs and comes again
And again comes with something
A whirring insect or a twisting thing.
Nothing can appease her ravenous horde
And on she goes ferreting about.
At night fall she alights abrupt
From what infinite heights, God alone knows
Darting into her nest as she hovers,
The din subsides............
First into a fizzle, then into sharp silence
Bundled in her warmth, the little ones
Sleep till the first flutter of dawn
From my window, I enjoy this diurnal scene
Repeating itself in methodical precision
Until someday, into heaven's insurmountable heights
The young ones take off on tiny wings!
A sight so accustomed, cheery and gleeful
My eyes would soon be deprived of
And the thought makes me ill at ease
A wonder it is, the young ones
Inexperienced though, thrives so well
On catapulted suddenly into an eerie world!
What husbandry in nature!
What Godly solicitude!
The next morn, my heart missed a beat
At what I espied through my open window.
On the ground lay the swallow's nest
Ripped, broken and blown to pieces
Like a heap of rubble after a tremor.
By its side lay, a few downy feathers
The sad reminder of a stark felony!
In an instant flashed past
The grim image of the black Tom cat
That prowls my courtyard in the dark
With glowing eyes and bristly whiskers
Damning that accursed thing
I picked up that wreckage
My mind violently mutinying over
The ‘insolent might'! ! !
poem by Valsa George
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She Won't Swallow It
Warning-Sexual content! May not be suitable for all readers!
Parody of the classic song from the film of the same name The Girl Can't Help It
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
She walks by, got mine standing at attention
Tight inside of my jeans
Still...
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
She winks her eye, flirts with me so outragous and naughty
Gets me so damn horny
Only to burn me like toast
Cos no matter how often I ask
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
She' s got me turned on the most
Yet even if I got down tonight on my knees
I think I know still what her answer would be
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
The girl won't swallow it
Won't get down on her knees
Not even once just to see if she would like it
Oh yeah
Sad but true
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
And even when I beg her pretty please
A horny boyfriend down on his knees
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
Still I'm hopin' and prayin' someday
Her answer will be
The girl will swallow it cos she's just as horny as me
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
She won't even pretend to mess around with it
In the dark or in the sun
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
If I give her some good old fashion lovin' way down there
Then should't she do the same for me?
The girl won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
Always makes me feel so damn bad just for askin'
Just like a dirty old grandpa instead of the young kinky 21 that I am
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
The girl won't swallow it
Won't get down on her knees
Not even once just to see if she would like it
Oh yeah
Sad but true
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
And even when I beg her pretty please
A horny boyfriend down on his knees
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
Still I'm hopin' and prayin' someday
Her answer will be
The girl will swallow it cos she's just as horny as me
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
She walks by, got my manhood locked up tight in a vise
As I pant and moan for that little something
That little something more that she just won't give
Still I'm hopin' and prayin' someday
Her answer will be
The girl will swallow it cos she's just as horny as me
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
2008 Ramona Thompson
poem by Ramona Thompson
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The Princess: A Medley: O Swallow
O Swallow, Swallow, flying, flying South,
Fly to her, and fall upon her gilded eaves,
And tell her, tell her, what I tell to thee.
O tell her, Swallow, thou that knowest each,
That bright and fierce and fickle is the South,
And dark and true and tender is the North.
O Swallow, Swallow, if I could follow, and light
Upon her lattice, I would pipe and trill,
And cheep and twitter twenty million loves.
O were I thou that she might take me in,
And lay me on her bosom, and her heart
Would rock the snowy cradle till I died.
Why lingereth she to clothe her heart with love,
Delaying as the tender ash delays
To clothe herself, when all the woods are green?
O tell her, Swallow, that thy brood is flown:
Say to her, I do but wanton in the South,
But in the North long since my nest is made.
O tell her, brief is life but love is long,
And brief the sun of summer in the North,
And brief the moon of beauty in the South.
O Swallow, flying from the golden woods,
Fly to her, and pipe and woo her, and make her mine,
And tell her, tell her, that I follow thee.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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From The Short Story What The Swallows Did
Swallow, swallow, neighbor swallow,
Starting on your autumn flight,
Pause a moment at my window,
Twitter softly your good-night;
For the summer days are over,
All your duties are well done,
And the happy homes you builded
Have grown empty, one by one.
Swallow, swallow, neighbor swallow,
Are you ready for your flight?
Are all the feather cloaks completed?
Are the little caps all right?
Are the young wings strong and steady
For the journey through the sky?
Come again in early spring-time;
And till then, good-by, good-by!
poem by Louisa May Alcott
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Dementia
My mother forgot how to swallow.
Before that, she lost my face and my name,
erased from her memory by sickness and age.
Her nurses complained she took too long to feed
They wanted a peg and a tube for the deed
My mother forgot how to swallow
She forgot her late spouse, disremembered her vow.
With the loss of the past there is no here and now.
Once she read to my child, then my girl read to her-
Until all the sounds were a meaningless blur
My mother forgot how to swallow
Jesus and Mary and her patron saint
would loved to have helped her, so weak and so faint,
but she had forgotten the simplest prayer -
the beads in her hand little use to her here.
My mother forgot how to swallow
The night nurses found her while making their round
She was cold to the touch, no pulse to be found
She stared, eyes wide open, at the cross on the wall
Perhaps the Messiah had come after all.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Riverside Walk
The wildering flowers bloom beautiful and gay
Along the green banks of the water way
And joyful songbirds whistling merrily
With tiny hearts brimful of ecstasy.
And all seem perfect save for water flowing gray
But pollution is a common thing nowaday
And keeping rivers clean don't appeal to modern man
As it's not part of his progression plan.
From her nest midst water reeds dark moorhen fly
And she utter forth a shrill like chirping cry
A warning to her little moorhen chicks
To leave their nest and head for cover quick.
From reed built nest four young dark moorhens creep
With bright orange bills and as they swim they cheep
And head for cover towards the river bank
And hide themselves midst rushes green and rank.
I walked along in pensive solitude
And a quarter mile down stream from Moorhen brood
I came upon what I don't often times see
A mallard out swimming with family.
From mother duck a warning sound did ring
She beat the water with her flapping wings
And her seven ducklings her signal did obey
And dived under water and hid themselves away.
The mother duck was circling in the sky
Whilst all of the time on me she kept an eye
And her anxiety for her family did grow
And she quacked aloud warning them not to show.
And as I walked homeward in the gloam of day
The wildborn birds piped with the joys of May
And my thoughts were of wild duck and moorhen
And tainted water for man a shameful sin.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Child in the Orchard
'He rolls in the orchard: he is stained with moss
And with earth, the solitary old white horse.
Where is his father and where is his mother
Among all the brown horses? Has he a brother?
I know the swallow, the hawk, and the hern;
But there are two million things for me to learn.
'Who was the lady that rode the white horse
With rings and bells to Banbury Cross?
Was there no other lady in England beside
That a nursery rhyme could take for a ride?
The swift, the swallow, the hawk, and the hern.
There are two million things for me to learn.
'Was there a man once who straddled across
The back of the Westbury White Horse
Over there on Salisbury Plain's green wall?
Was he bound for Westbury, or had he a fall?
The swift, the swallow, the hawk, and the hern.
There are two million things for me to learn.
'Out of all the white horses I know three,
At the age of six; and it seems to me
There is so much to learn, for men,
That I dare not go to bed again.
The swift, the swallow, the hawk, and the hern.
There are millions things for me to learn.'
poem by Edward Thomas
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SONNET: And This is Life!
Two Birds, a male and female met at last;
They found the tree on which to build their nest;
But soon, their little ones came rather fast;
The Birds hadn’t time for love-making or rest!
The Wind blew strongly; scorching was the Sun;
The Rain fell heavily upon their nest;
Rearing the young ones was both strain and fun;
Even a Snake came to their nest as guest1
But God helped them to find the worms for food;
And Spring replaced the Winter’s freezing cold;
The Birds laboured all life as best as could;
Their young ones turned adults; and they grew old!
When Death came like a robber in the night,
Both Birds never offered the slightest fight!
poem by John Celes
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Harry Carey Goodhue
You never marveled, dullards of Spoon River,
When Chase Henry voted against the saloons
To revenge himself for being shut off.
But none of you was keen enough
To follow my steps, or trace me home
As Chase's spiritual brother.
Do you remember when I fought
The bank and the courthouse ring,
For pocketing the interest on public funds?
And when I fought our leading citizens
For making the poor the pack-horses of the taxes?
And when I fought the water-works
For stealing streets and raising rates?
And when I fought the business men
Who fought me in these fights?
Then do you remember:
That staggering up from the wreck of defeat,
And the wreck of a ruined career,
I slipped from my cloak my last ideal,
Hidden from all eyes until then,
Like the cherished jawbone of an ass,
And smote the bank and the water works,
And the business men with prohibition,
And made Spoon River pay the cost
Of the fights that I had lost?
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Wonders Of Mother Nature
Mother nature
Oh mother nature
How beautiful and lovely you are
With such a tender loving care
Mother Nature
Ohh! Mother Nature
Our dearest mother nature
Our amazing mother nature
Ohh! Mother Nature
If nature allows can I please ask you a question
As a mother
How come you killed your young?
How come you made your fellow mothers cry?
How come you took away their joy?
You took the only thing that made their lives blossom
You suppose to make life beautiful
Mother Nature you suppose build
But how come you destroyed homes
Mother Nature you suppose to make the world a good place to be in
Yet you have turned the world to be a horrible place
Mother Nature as a mother you suppose to warn your young when the go astray
Not to destroy them
Yet you destroyed and killed them
You suppose to symbolize new beginnings and that there’s always hope
Yet you came and shuttled people’s lives and dreams
poem by Vangile Mtyali
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The Emperor's Bird's-Nest. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)
Once the Emperor Charles of Spain,
With his swarthy, grave commanders,
I forget in what campaign,
Long besieged, in mud and rain,
Some old frontier town of Flanders.
Up and down the dreary camp,
In great boots of Spanish leather,
Striding with a measured tramp,
These Hidalgos, dull and damp,
Cursed the Frenchmen, cursed the weather.
Thus as to and fro they went,
Over upland and through hollow,
Giving their impatience vent,
Perched upon the Emperor's tent,
In her nest, they spied a swallow.
Yes, it was a swallow's nest,
Built of clay and hair of horses,
Mane, or tail, or dragoon's crest,
Found on hedge-rows east and west,
After skirmish of the forces.
Then an old Hidalgo said,
As he twirled his gray mustachio,
'Sure this swallow overhead
Thinks the Emperor's tent a shed,
And the Emperor but a Macho!'
Hearing his imperial name
Coupled with those words of malice,
Half in anger, half in shame,
Forth the great campaigner came
Slowly from his canvas palace.
'Let no hand the bird molest,'
Said he solemnly, 'nor hurt her!'
Adding then, by way of jest,
'Golondrina is my guest,
'T is the wife of some deserter!'
Swift as bowstring speeds a shaft,
Through the camp was spread the rumor,
And the soldiers, as they quaffed
Flemish beer at dinner, laughed
At the Emperor's pleasant humor.
So unharmed and unafraid
Sat the swallow still and brooded,
Till the constant cannonade
Through the walls a breach had made,
And the siege was thus concluded.
Then the army, elsewhere bent,
Struck its tents as if disbanding,
Only not the Emperor's tent,
For he ordered, ere he went,
Very curtly, 'Leave it standing!'
So it stood there all alone,
Loosely flapping, torn and tattered,
Till the brood was fledged and flown,
Singing o'er those walls of stone
Which the cannon-shot had shattered.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Collector
I pick things up, I am a collector
And things, well things, they tend to accumulate
I have this net, it drags behind me
It picks up feelings for me to feed upon
There are times, plenty of times
I wish I could let it go
But it's time to breed
And it's got to grow inside me
There are times, plenty of times
I wish I could let it go
But it's time to make me think things
I don't wanna know
I'm trying to fit it all inside
I'm trying to open my mouth wide
I'm trying not to choke
And swallow it all
Swallow it all
Swallow it all
Swallow it all
I am the plague
I am the swarm
All your heart sticks on me
And I keep it warm
It'll make me stay
It won't let me leave
There are so goddamn many of them
It gets hard to breathe
I'm trying to fit it all inside
I'm trying to open my mouth wide
I'm trying not to choke inside
I am a good boy, and I will
Swallow it all
Swallow it all
Swallow it all
Swallow it all
Every last one [19x]
song performed by by Nine Inch Nails
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you have to swallow a frog, try not to think about it. If you have to swallow two frogs, don't swallow the smaller one first.
I Palindrome I
Someday mother will die and Ill get the money
Mom leans down and says, my sentiments exactly,
You son of a bitch
I palindrome I (I palindrome I)
I palindrome I (I palindrome I)
And I am a snake head eating (snake head)
The head on the opposite side (snake head)
I palindrome I (manonam)
I palindrome I (manonam)
See that bulletproof dress hanging from the clothesline
See the medical chart with the random zig-zag
Now Ill help it decide
I palindrome I (I palindrome I)
I palindrome I (I palindrome I)
And I am a snake head eating (snake head)
The head on the opposite side (snake head)
I palindrome I (manonam)
I palindrome I (manonam)
I palindrome I (manonam)
I palindrome I (manonam)
Son I am able, she said though you scare me.
Watch, said i
Beloved, I said watch me scare you though. said she,
Able am i, son.
See the spring of the grandfather clock unwinding
(egad, a base tone denotes a bad age)
See the hands of my offspring making windmills
(egad, a base tone denotes a bad age)
Dad palindrome dad
I palindrome I (I palindrome I)
I palindrome I (I palindrome I)
And I am a snake head eating (snake head)
The head on the opposite side (snake head)
I palindrome I (manonam)
I palindrome I (manonam)
I palindrome I (manonam)
I palindrome I (manonam)
Notes
Dial-a-song had a substantially different song with the same name. this piece, which had a different melody and was sung by flansburgh instead of linnell, goes as follows:
I palindrome i
Born on the 5th of july
One door shut, another one closed
I palindrome i
She king of brooklyn she
Master of all she surveys
Lives a life unencumbered by me
She king of brooklyn she
Man, when I was a young man
Not like Im driving a rocking chair now, but
Man, when I was a young man
I was free
I palindrome i
Mister 5th of july
One door shut, another one closes for
I palindrome i
Man, when I was a young man
Not like Im driving a rocking chair now, but
Man, when I was a young man
I was free
I palindrome i
Something just fell on my head
Born on the 5th of july
I palindrome i
I palindrome i
I palindrome i
Something just fell on my head
Something just fell on my head
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sooner Or Later
Come back and haunt me, follow me home
Give me a motive, swallow me whole
They say I've lost it, what could I know?
When I'm but a mockery, I'm so alone
Sooner or later
They'll find out there's a hole in the wall
Sooner or later
They'll find out there's a hole in the wall
Today is ours, condemned to be free
Free to keep breathing, free to believe
I look to find You down on my knees
Oh God I believe, please help me believe
Sooner or later
They'll find out there's a hole in the wall
Sooner or later
You'll find out that your dream could be that small
I'm a believer, help me believe
I'm a believer, help me believe
And I gave it all away and I lost who I am
I threw it all away with everything to gain
And I'm taking the leap with dreams of shrinking
With dreams of shrinking, yeah
Come back and haunt me, follow me home
Give me a motive, swallow me whole
Sooner or later, yeah
Sooner or later (they'll find out)...
song performed by by Switchfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mother Once Said...
My mother once said
'Don`t open your mouth before
Elders and those with white hairs'.
My mother also said
'Don`t speak unless asked'.
My mouth asked me once,
'What is my role in your life? '
I said, 'My mother has said nothing about it'.
I added, 'You swallow and eat'.
My mouth has been quiet since.
My friends said, 'Your mother is wise'.
My father said, 'She is my strength'.
I wondered how she could be so great!
Then was born my kid brother with a big mouth.
My mother said to my kid brother too
Not to do those old things
But his mouth spoke everything
Everything that I never dared.
And his mouth swallowed, ate and spoke.
Today my mother is no more
And my father is is weak and worn out.
I still remember my mother`s words.
While my kid brother speaks out his mind
My mouth refuses to speak out its regrets....
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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