En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Bird Of A Feather

The nest of jagged shape in the tree;
Egg on a prickly, unbreakable branch.

The baby of his youth in the finish;
Feet on an extraordinary, daunting edge.

The bird of abundant freedom in the sky;
Wings on an exhilarating, novel voyage.

poem by Francesca Marie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I got one to lose the other

In the course of my journey
I entered a kingdom.
I invaded an enclave,
Where I found a bird,
Quite unlike mine,
So fresh, so strange.
I wished I had had her,
I went to capture the bird,
With the bird, her nest,
With nest its branch,
with the branch the whole tree,
The soil that holds it,
The whole enclave
With its inhabitants,
Plants and animals,
Bees and pests and worms and snakes.
An avaricious act

No more journey.
No home returns either.
What happened to my bird at home?
Who knows?
Maybe someone invaded.
Maybe someone captured.
29.08.2002

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lullaby of the iroquois

Little brown baby-bird, lapped in your nest,
Wrapped in your nest,
Strapped in your nest,
Your straight little cradle-board rocks you to rest;
Its hands are your nest;
Its bands are your nest;
It swings from the down-bending branch of the oak;
You watch the camp flame, and the curling grey smoke;
But, oh, for your pretty black eyes sleep is best,--
Little brown baby of mine, go to rest.

Little brown baby-bird swinging to sleep,
Winging to sleep,
Singing to sleep,
Your wonder-black eyes that so wide open keep,
Shielding their sleep,
Unyielding to sleep,
The heron is homing, the plover is still,
The night-owl calls from his haunt on the hill,
Afar the fox barks, afar the stars peep,--
Little brown baby of mine, go to sleep.

poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Memphis Flyer

Take me home on the Memphis Flyer
Take me home to a point down south
Got to go just to keep from dying
Come on, baby,
You and me gonna play house
You and me on the wings of freedom
You and me leave it all behind
I can't say where it's all been leadin'
But come on, baby
Before we go changin' our mind
We can fly
Like a bird on the wings of a song
We get by
We're alive but you know that it won't
Be too long, be too long, be too long
Come on, honey
Time to be movin' on
Now or never, baby
Got to fly like a song of freedom
Got to fly just to save my soul
You get by on the song I'm singin'
Come on, baby
We're too young to be gettin' old
We can fly
Like a bird on the wings of a song
We get by
We're alive but we won't be too long
We can fly, we can fly,
We can fly, we can fly

song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Eggs Of The Blue Bird On The Nest

the blue bird
takes care of its nest
all the white eggs
warm beneath its feathers

all those nights
and even cold days

and then when the eggs hatch
the fledgelings
prematurely spread their wings
fall off from the branch
where the nest hangs

on the following morning
you see the ants feasting on their flesh

ah! the blue bird sings again
readies itself for the rain

it escapes away from its sorrows
and flies away...far, far away

far, far away....

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our Tree

When spring comes round, our apple tree
Is very full of flowers,
And when a bird sits on a branch
The petals fall in showers.

When summer comes, our apple tree
Is very full of green,
And everywhere you look in it
There is a leafy screen.

When autumn comes, our apple tree
Is full of things to eat.
The apples hang from every branch
To tumble at our feet.

When winter comes, our apple tree
Is full of snow and ice
And rabbits come to visit it...
We think our tree is nice.

poem by Marchette Chute
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A Poem Of Syntax

A poet and his bird, his dog, his cat and his tree
A poet and the bird in the tree
A poet and his dog in the tree
A poet and his dog in the tree and the wind and the cloud
The bird in the tree, the dog in the tree, the cat in the tree,
The bird in the tree, the dog on the tree, the cat under the tree,
The bird on the tree, the bird in a tree, a bird in a tree, a bird in the tree,
And the wind and the cloud and the poet and his dog and his cat and the tree

The dog chases the cat the cat chases the bird
And they all arrive in that tree
Where the poet is sitting under that tree
The poet takes the dog and the cat was envious
And the bird looks at them in silence
The silence looks at the poet in the eye
Of the cat and the bird flies away
The poet and the dog is the poem of friendship
The cat and the dog is the poem of the endless natural quarrels
And the bird that flies away against the cat and the dog and the poet and the tree
And flies against the wind that the bird is now fighting
And the clouds that seem so blue and blue

The bird that actually flies away
Is actually me
I was not the poet with the dog

I am not the tree I am not the wind I am not the cloud I am not the poet there who had a dog as friend and I was not the quarrelsome thing from the blue and out of the blue

I am the bird with wings and I always fly away to places
Against the wind to places where I can be as always be the bird with wings in silence

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blue Jay

Tell me of the 'Blue Jay'
who sings from tree to tree in the early hours of the morning.

Has he found his nest and mate well hidden amongst the hanging Moss?

On what Oak tree lies his precious treasure,
his hearts and ever needing desire?

Across the pond close to the waters edge
the Ducks family celebrate Water, Fire and Earth.
Readying for their Sunday walk through Avalon.

Duck~feet firmly on the Earth clutching nail~down into an unbreakable pace, they march one by one making most of time and space...

BLUEJAY lost amidst desire wanders now from tree to tree,
misplace and forgotten by the nights heavy storm....

Tell me!
Tell me of the dreary song of lost souls in morning sun,
are they of the Blue Jay or of your own heart?

Are you home smiling to the stars or on a collision course with desire?

Is getting hot outside but where is home with Moss on every tree and Duck's all around?

poem by Gengis Capote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Bird's Happiness

A cherry hello to you
So the bird said to me
I asked him why he was happy
As he was sitting in a tree

I looked at him in the tree
And wondered what he was doing
Then he said that he saw a worm
And it was what he was pursuing

So we should take lessons
From the bird in the tree
Ashe was getting ready to build a nest
As he had use to be

Then he returned to his nest
As happy as could be
He sang and sang
As he was in the tree.

poem by Dolores Mahan
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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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Bird's Wings

The bird's wing levels for the summation,
It dived once more but now it flies straight;
This evening is its dinner and lunch,
Killing itself and its kids, forming a nest.
The wings of an animal work for the better,
Injured ones last not, they do not last at all
For the flight of a bird is accompanied by all.
Mighty winds sever the flight so wild and free,
In order to pack the several costumes of the breeze.
Freedom comes from everything and all of our guns
Are shooting the air like a bird's flight and its freedom.

poem by Naveed Akram
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To A Silvereye

I see you almost every day you fly from tree to tree
And I envy you your happiness for you are wholly free
You tiny insect eating bird in olive fawn and gray
And I feel glad so very glad to see you every day.

No boss to order you around to tell you what to do
Wish you were me dear tiny bird and wish that I were you
For you have freedom in your wings the freedom of the sky
And I envy you your happiness dear tiny silvereye.

On garden tree and green hedgerow close to the homes of men
I see you almost every day you and your tiny kin
From garden tree to garden tree and to and fro you wing
And midst the leaves the sunlit leaves you preen and chirp and sing.

I see you almost every day from tree to tree you fly
And I envy you your happiness the freedom of the sky
And I've a wish a secret wish when my turn come to die
That I will come to life again a tiny silvereye.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Strange Bird

Strange bird
By: jimmy buffett, jay oliver
1989
Half fast and seldom seen
He dont blip the radar screen
On the deck below the dune
Under the commanders moon
Strange bird from a different nest
Flying low not like all of the rest
God only knows where the strange bird goes when hes flying
Everybodys trying to find him
But they dont know where to start
The ornithologist lady says that he has wings on his heart
Chorus:
Strange bird from a different nest
Flying low not like all of the rest
If you cant catch him you cant name him
If you cant see him you cant claim him
Stay on the ground or he will shoot you down
Wings on his heart, hes a strange bird
Frequent flyer, seldom seen
High above the caribbean
In my day Ive met a few but hes the strangest bird thats true
Chorus:
Strange bird from a different nest
Flying low not like all of the rest
If you cant catch him you cant name him
If you cant see him you cant claim him
Stay on the ground or he will shoot you down
Wings on his heart, hes a strange bird
But hes in love with the lady of the waters
And she lives somewhere up around cheauxvan
Hes gonna circle high above her runway of love
Until she gives him her permission to land
Chorus:
Strange bird from a different nest
Flying low not like all of the rest
If you cant catch him you cant name him
If you cant see him you cant claim him
Stay on the ground or he will shoot you down
Wings on his heart, hes a strange bird
Watch out girl, hes a strange bird
Strange bird flying low
cross the gulf of mexico
Strange bird not like all the rest
Watch out girl hes a strange bird
Shoot you down, hes a strange bird
Its a bird, its a plane, its a strange bird

song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Tree

My life is a tree,
Yoke-fellow of the earth;
Pledged,
By roots too deep for remembrance,
To stand hard against the storm,
To fill by Place.
(But high in the branches of my green tree there is a wild
bird singing:
Wind-free are the wings of my bird: she hath built no
mortal nest.)

poem by Karle Wilson Baker
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A Little Bird

a little brown bird
walks on the ground
hops like a kangaroo
unable to fly

it fell from the tree
from a nest
on wings still not fit
for flying

i try to pick it up
and i hear a bird chirping
watching

oh, a mother
perhaps...

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Broken Rhythm

A fat crow drops onto
The very tip of the top
Branch of a barren tree.

It sways with the branch
As if riding the hand
Of a metronome.

We're swept up in
The rhythm, the crow
The tree and me.

Then a hard gust
From the east
Or west and
The tree becomes a bull,
The crow a bullrider and
I'm on the edge of my seat
Waiting for something bad
To happen.

poem by Francis Santaquilani
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I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings

The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and is tune is heard
on the distant hillfor the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

poem by Maya Angelou
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Alzuna

The forest of Alzuna hides a pool.
Beside that pool, a shadowy tree up-towers.
High on that tree, a bough most beautiful
Bends with the fragrant burden of its flowers.
Among those flowers a nest is buried deep.
Warm in that nest, there lies a freckled shell.
Packed in that shell, a bird is fast asleep.
This is the incantation and the spell.

For, when the north wind blows, the bird will cry,
“Warm in my freckled shell, I lie asleep.
The freckled shell is in the nest on high.
The nest among the flowers is buried deep.
The flowers are on a bough most beautiful.
The bough is on a tree no axe can fell.
The sky is at its feet in yonder pool.
This is the incantation and the spell!”

poem by Alfred Noyes
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Caged Bird

The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

poem by Maya Angelou (1994)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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First Flight

Brand new baby birds in a nest
don't you fall to the ground.
For there are too many predators waiting
and quietly lurking around.

Don't leave your nest 'til you can fly.
Be patient and bide your time.
Then when you feel your wings are strong
then out of your nest you'll climb.

Now see what you were born for.
Flap your wings and soar into the air.
The sky's the limit for such as you.
As for me I can only stare.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Tree And The Branch

the tree looks
upon a branch
where a ripe
fruit is hanging

the tree says
it is mine
the branch say
i am holding it

the tree says
the branch too
belongs to it

angry about the
tree's greed
the branch lets go off
the ripe fruit

a hungry child
picks it up
and goes home
with a happy heart

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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