The Poet To His Love
ALL the flight of thoughts here, shy, bold, scared, intrusive,
Fluttering in the sun, between the green and blue,
Wheeling, whirling, poising, lovely and elusive,
How to cage the flying thoughts, my winged delight, for you?
Set a springe of rhyme, and hope to catch them in it?
Strew my love as grain to lure them to the snare?
Watch the hours built up, slow minute piled on minute?
Still the wide sky guards their flight, and still the cage is bare.
Gleam of hovering feathers, brushing me to flout me!
Wings, be weary! Rest! Who loves you more than I?
Caught? Oh fluttering pinions whitening air about me!
Rustling wings, and distant flight, and empty cage and sky!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Related quotes
Unable To Fly
I was once like a little bird
Caught by your hidden trap
Surrender unto you like a prey
Bleeding weakly with fright
Brought me to your home with pride
All day and night you cared
Healed those wounds beneath my wings
Built me a cage made of gold
Awaken me with the pat of love
Taught me how to sing of thanks
Many days have passed
I’ve been a joy in your life
And so you forgot who I was
Who I am and what I long outside
Forgotten that I’m prisoner of love
Though you treated me so kind
I want to be free, a bird of flight
I am eager to try if I can fly
Use my wings under the golden light
Soar into the blue sky, I will arise
And from my cage you let me free
But with claws so weak to grip
With wings unrehearsed to fly
I fainted in this frightful flight
So I find way back to your arms
I don’t know if I’ll be mad at you
Cease to sing to make you blue
‘Cause you deprived my right to fly
All my life I will be a parasite
For without you I cannot survive
poem by Rose de Ramar
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Inside A Cage
he is inside a cage
and he does not really want to be inside the cage forever
the cage however is different
it is not locked and no one guards it
he is free to go out and get in anytime
this cage of his choice
he wants to get out of this cage for good
he just can't
he loves to be caged somehow
despite the protest of his reason
he goes out to free himself but only after a while
he gets inside the cage again
in fact he is more inside it and locking himself in it even
he loves what this cage can provide him
his sense of privacy his taste for an enclosure
his genes his sense of wanting to be alone
his beloved prison where he keeps his sins
it is where his ecstasies are hatched and grown
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Flightless Bird
Slavery was the nature, caged within,
Seeing the sun rays penetrate it wonders,
Upon which strategy shall I escape this cage,
Upon which wisdom shall I,
See the sun and not the rays,
The bird with fluffy feathers did ponder,
Unto its master it cried,
Brought food but it seeked freedom,
To cage the bird was love he claimed,
To be caged, such love was hate it pondered,
Caged without hope, the flightless bird
Such freedom was vain for the bird,
That prison cell used to be a shelter,
To be loved, in a different way,
Engulfing itself in its loose wings,
Dreaming things it never saw,
Seeing life it never experienced,
Searching peace which it never had,
To rest in that moment of anguish,
The master said to cage is to love,
The bird cried to cage is to slave
My thoughts were painted all over,
Looking there, she might just cove over,
Feeling the passion when she came closer,
Will she ever set me free, in this cage I suffer
Unto to me is like a flightless bird,
Caged in vacuum I feel so bad,
To love me you ought to think instead,
To leave me you ought to think you had
The more the sky is seen,
The more the ray come unto my sight,
The more you hold the cage,
The more I desire a rescue,
Unto that day shall I wait,
To fly and see the sky and the sun
poem by Gaylord Munemo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Too Late
WHEN Love, sweet Love, was tangled in my snare
I clipped his wings, and dressed his cage with flowers,
Made him my little joy for little hours,
And fed him when I had a song to spare.
And then I saw how good life's good things were,
The kingdoms and the glories and the powers.
Flowers grew in sheaves and stars were shed in showers,
And, when the great things wearied, Love was there.
But when, within his cage, one winter day
I found him lying still with folded wings,
No longer fluttering, eager to be fed--
Kingdoms and powers and glories passed away,
And of life's countless, precious, priceless things
Nothing was left but Love--and Love was dead!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Time Is Not Our Cage (Gabry Ponte Power Cut)
We are flying
and we're flying high till the end
We are men without an age
Time is not out cage
and forever we go on
We are flying
and we're flying high till the end
We are men without an age
Time is not out cage
Born to be forever young
Children of eternity
Always searching for a faster race
Defeating what time wants to be
There's no king
In this place
Like a star that belongs to the sky
And the times are our names in your mind
Our souls are the wings as we fly
Against time
We are flying
and we're flying high till the end
We are men without an age
Time is not out cage
and forever we go on
We are flying
and we're flying high till the end
We are men without an age
Time is not out cage
Born to be forever young
Just like an old song that's playing a tune
That revives what seems lost in the past
With dignity fighting for whom
In a way
Wants to last
Like a friendship of 10 years ago
That is frozen inside of a picture
That tomorrow can cancel and go
Against time
We are flying
and we're flying high till the end
We are men without an age
Time is not out cage
and forever we go on
We are flying
and we're flying high till the end
We are men without an age
Time is not out cage
born to be forever young
Free as a soul is
Far beyond all the boundries of time
Its you mark that lives on
We are flying
and we're flying high till the end
We are men without an age
Time is not out cage
and forever we go on
We are flying
and we're flying high till the end
We are men without an age
Time is not out cage
born to be forever young
song performed by by Eiffel 65
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Bird In Your Cage
we have this bird
we both own it and love it and care for it
our bird
and you have this cage
that you only own
golden, new and strong and as you say it
so reliable
that when our bird is in that cage
it will be safe
and cannot escape
we feed this bird together
and give it water and birdseeds
and a place of twigs and swing
where the bird can play
and perch upon
like it is on a tree
days and years
we keep this bird in your cage
and we see it is dying
and wanting to be free
yet you say, this sickness is just temporary
time heals what has wounded it
and shall forget the power of its wings
days and more years
we keep this bird in your cage
and i have not listened at all
to the sad song of that bird
her waning chirps
her weakened wings
her way of losing hold to the dreams of its wings
today we see this bird is dead
but you have no sadness at all
you say, you will buy another bird
again to be kept in your cage
i could have told you
i am the bird in your cage and i too have forgotten the power of
my wings
i could have told you, i have long died
and have forgotten what freedom is, what love is, what i am
in the first place. How can i ever tell you?
you are my cage.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Born To Fly
Birds in a cage
that yearn to fly,
do you think
of a bright blue sky?
Are you content
to sit on a perch,
never outside
to seek and search?
God gave you wings
with which to soar
so you could sail
the breeze and explore
all of God's beauty
in this world,
flying free
with wings unfurled.
If I were a bird
I'd find a way
to escape my cage
and fly away.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Word Obsession
I tossed and tossed upon my bed.
I could not sleep at all.
I watched the shadows outside my pane
and saw the leaves of fall
fluttering past in quicker flight
then all the minutes of my night.
The thoughts and images in my mind
kept me wide-awake.
They all took form and impatiently waited
for a brand new day to break.
They needed to come alive on a page,
the need to flee their cage.
And when I saw the first feint light
and all the shadows depart,
I left my bed with tired body,
but with happy heart.
For God had granted me another day
to pen my words and have my say.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Degrees Of Unfreedom...
1. caught
a bird inside your hand
2.released
inside a cage and hangs
on a beam
at the side of the road
3.well feed with
grains
4. starts to sing
inside the cage
5. feathers fall
and unlearned
flights
6. so many thoughts
about bird-lands
7.death
8. no one sees
the spirit getting
out of the body
of the bird
9. into another plane
another cage
10. back to one
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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VI
The tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest.
They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.
The free bird cries, "O my love, let us fly to wood."
The cage bird whispers, "Come hither, let us both live in the
cage."
Says the free bird, "Among bars, where is there room to spread
one's wings?"
"Alas," cries the cage bird, "I should not know where to sit
perched in the sky."
The free bird cries, "My darling, sing the songs of the
woodlands."
The cage bird says, "Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of
the learned."
The forest bird cries, "No, ah no! songs can never be taught."
The cage bird says, "Alas for me, I know not the songs of the
woodlands."
Their love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing
to wing.
Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to
know each other.
They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, "Come closer, my
love!"
The free bird cries, "It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of
the cage."
The cage bird whispers, "Alas, my wings are powerless and dead."
poem by Rabindranath Tagore from The Gardener (1913)
Submitted by Silvia Velea
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Ambivilancy
Oh to be imprisoned within a cage
and not allowed to fly
brings to me melancholy
that makes me want to die.
For death brings freedom of its own
and flight is taken with ease.
Shall you open this cage and set me free
or keep it locked with keys?
My escape from you is impossible
and so you will discover
that even though I look for escape,
my heart's the perfect lover.
No jailor is there anywhere
as you have been with me.
So my flight is fanciful thinking
for I do not wish to be free.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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A caged bird`s plea
In the cage for years,
this cage my home,
a wingless bird
forgotten how to fly
You have cut my wings Oh! man
in the cage let me be,
my folks are away, know not where
do not set me free
poem by Dr Madhavi Grace
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The Tame Bird Was In A Cage
THE tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest.
They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.
The free bird cries, 'O my love, let us fly to the wood.'
The cage bird whispers, 'Come hither, let us both live in the cage.'
Says the free bird, 'Among bars, where is there room to spread one's wings?'
'Alas,' cries the caged bird, 'I should not know where to sit perched in the sky.'
The free bird cries, 'My darling, sing the songs of the woodlands.'
The cage bird sings, 'Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of the learned.'
The forest bird cries, 'No, ah no! songs can never be taught.'
The cage bird says, 'Alas for me, I know not the songs of the woodlands.'
There love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing to wing.
Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to know each other.
They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, 'Come closer, my love!'
The free bird cries, 'It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of the cage.'
The cage bird whispers, 'Alas, my wings are powerless and dead.'
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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The Release
To-day within a grog-shop near
I saw a newly captured linnet,
Who beat against his cage in fear,
And fell exhausted every minute;
And when I asked the fellow there
If he to sell the bird were willing,
He told me with a careless air
That I could have it for a shilling.
And so I bought it, cage and all
(Although I went without my dinner),
And where some trees were fairly tall
And houses shrank and smoke was thinner,
The tiny door I open threw,
As down upon the grass I sank me:
Poor little chap! How quick he flew . . .
He didn't even wait to thank me.
Life's like a cage; we beat the bars,
We bruise our breasts, we struggle vainly;
Up to the glory of the stars
We strain with flutterings ungainly.
And then -- God opens wide the door;
Our wondrous wings are arched for flying;
We poise, we part, we sing, we soar . . .
Light, freedom, love. . . . Fools call it -- Dying.
poem by Robert William Service
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The Song Is Not Sad....
he once was a wild bird
who lives in no one's forest
always in flight
to an endless journey, until
he was caught in the cage of
civilization
where he was taught to sing
and what to sing
and when to sing the
prescribed songs
he had always been a sad black bird
for years and years and years
until he gets freed because the lock is
finally broken and the rails all turn to dust
because of rust
when he goes outside with his wings
he does not like it anymore
he forgets what he was once in the wild
he comes back
constructs and reconstructs his cage
exactly as it was once
given to him by force of circumstance
locks himself in
and then begins to sing again
do not tell me that it did not happen to you
the song is not sad.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Flightless Bird
My world is caged in,
I can not fly away,
I can not soar in the clouds,
With the wind and the angels.
I am a flightless bird with clipped wings.
I sit here day in and day out,
I watch so many people coming in and going out,
They stay here so happy so proud,
And they leave again without any care in the world.
I am a flightless bird with clipped wings.
I remember each face,
I remember them all saying hi waiting for a reply of hello,
They don’t understand how it feels,
They don’t understand what it’s like.
To be a flightless bird with clipped wings.
Wings tucked and head held high I sit here,
I wear a smile on my face and I keep myself beautiful and happy,
But inside all I can see are the bars that surround me,
I can’t get past them I can only sit.
I am a flightless bird with clipped wings.
My world is a room full of people myself the center of attention,
Although I should not complain for this is my life,
And I make them smile I make the children laugh and look in my eyes,
And sometimes they look into my eyes and see my world through my eyes.
They know I am a flightless bird with clipped wings.
They’ll stand and watch me as I walk around in my cage,
They’ll be there with me and try to understand.
Then they’ll have to leave and they’ll look over their shoulders.,
And they look into my eyes one last time,
Before they fly away into the world to bring back stories for the flightless bird with clipped wings,
They are my connection to the world,
They show me what they see through their eyes,
They show me wonders and beauties of a world I’ve never seen,
They are my window to the outside,
In their mind I can be a flightless bird in a world of wonder and of flight.
I am only a small bird in a cage that sits in a hotel,
Sits and watches as the world around me fly’s by,
I wait for the occasional stranger who looks into my eyes with knowing,
Maybe a person who is like me like a flightless bird in a cage,
They are my wings, the wings of a flightless bird who’s wings are clipped.
I sit in my own world and watch as it all moves by,
Day after day I watch and I say what is expected of me,
I sit in my world and I go on my own steady journey,
A journey in which I am a silent observer,
A flightless bird with clipped wings in a world of ever changing skies.
By: Bethany Maxwell
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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The Bird In A Cage
a bird inside a cage
sings of freedom
a cage tied to a wall
dreams of resurrection
direct to heaven
with lines from a halo
inside a blue bird
with big blue wings
flying away
from here.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Parrot In The Cage
Parrot in the cage
laments, 'Alas, While I was free,
I was flying in the high sky,
my body didn't feel heavy,
I felt it like my wings, so easy;
But now, I am in a cage
living like a sage,
Even my wings, I feel
heavy and burden to me!
I can't fly.
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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July Fugitive
Can you tell me where has hid her
Pretty Maid July?
I would swear one day ago
She passed by,
I would swear that I do know
The blue bliss of her eye:
'Tarry, maid, maid,' I bid her;
But she hastened by.
Do you know where she has hid her,
Maid July?
Yet in truth it needs must be
The flight of her is old;
Yet in truth it needs must be,
For her nest, the earth, is cold.
No more in the pool-ed Even
Wade her rosy feet,
Dawn-flakes no more plash from them
To poppies 'mid the wheat.
She has muddied the day's oozes
With her petulant feet;
Scared the clouds that floated,
As sea-birds they were,
Slow on the coerule
Lulls of the air,
Lulled on the luminous
Levels of air:
She has chidden in a pet
All her stars from her;
Now they wander loose and sigh
Through the turbid blue,
Now they wander, weep, and cry--
Yea, and I too--
'Where are you, sweet July,
Where are you?'
Who hath beheld her footprints,
Or the pathway she goes?
Tell me, wind, tell me, wheat,
Which of you knows?
Sleeps she swathed in the flushed Arctic
Night of the rose?
Or lie her limbs like Alp-glow
On the lily's snows?
Gales, that are all-visitant,
Find the runaway;
And for him who findeth her
(I do charge you say)
I will throw largesse of broom
Of this summer's mintage,
I will broach a honey-bag
Of the bee's best vintage.
Breezes, wheat, flowers sweet,
None of them knows!
How then shall we lure her back
From the way she goes?
For it were a shameful thing,
Saw we not this comer
Ere Autumn camp upon the fields
Red with rout of Summer.
When the bird quits the cage,
We set the cage outside,
With seed and with water,
And the door wide,
Haply we may win it so
Back to abide.
Hang her cage of earth out
O'er Heaven's sunward wall,
Its four gates open, winds in watch
By rein-ed cars at all;
Relume in hanging hedgerows
The rain-quenched blossom,
And roses sob their tears out
On the gale's warm heaving bosom;
Shake the lilies till their scent
Over-drip their rims;
That our runaway may see
We do know her whims:
Sleek the tumbled waters out
For her travelled limbs;
Strew and smoothe blue night thereon,
There will--O not doubt her!--
The lovely sleepy lady lie,
With all her stars about her!
poem by Francis Thompson
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Sunset Wings
TO-NIGHT this sunset spreads two golden wings
Cleaving the western sky;
Winged too with wind it is, and winnowings
Of birds; as if the day's last hour in rings
Of strenuous flight must die.
Sun-steeped in fire, the homeward pinions sway
Above the dovecote-tops;
And clouds of starlings, ere they rest with day,
Sink, clamorous like mill-waters, at wild play,
By turns in every copse:
Each tree heart-deep the wrangling rout receives,—
Save for the whirr within,
You could not tell the starlings from the leaves;
Then one great puff of wings, and the swarm heaves
Away with all its din.
Even thus Hope's hours, in ever-eddying flight,
To many a refuge tend;
With the first light she laughed, and the last light
Glows round her still; who natheless in the night
At length must make an end.
And now the mustering rooks innumerable
Together sail and soar,
While for the day's death, like a tolling knell,
Unto the heart they seem to cry, Farewell,
No more, farewell, no more!
Is Hope not plumed, as 'twere a fiery dart?
And oh! thou dying day,
Even as thou goest must she too depart,
And Sorrow fold such pinions on the heart
As will not fly away?
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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