Finally You Have Caught It
Finally you have caught it
And you can not say
What inspire you
And the hawk flew.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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We Are Together
The girls known trouble
The winds to blame
It blew her to anytown usa
Thats my middle name
And where we go
Remains nameless
A motion picture
Alive and framelss
And we are together
Finally
And the dog caught up with
The rabbit is laughing hysterically
And we are together
You and me
Yeah eah ah
Yeah
We are together
Together
Shes got that sadness
She twinkles like a witch
And you conjure a love spell
Im gonna give a five-year itch
Low to the ground
High in the holler
(we are together)
In any old february
(together)
Hot under the collar
(collar)
And we are together
Finally
And the dog caught up with
The rabbit is laughing hysterically
And we are together
You and me
Yeah eah ah
Yeah
The setting sun at sadness beach
Just in view and out of reach
Resign myself to solitude
When love is hard to get and rude
And though I said I did not care
(oh oh oh oh)
It was way before wed gotten there
Winded by the fruitless chase
(oh oh oh oh)
Until I saw you face to face
(face to face)
Together
Finally
And the dog caught up with
The rabbit is laughing hysterically
And we are together
You and me
(.... the whole world)
We are together
Finally
(finally, finally)
And the dog caught up with
The rabbit is laughing hysterically
And we are together
You and me
Yeah eah ah
Yeah eah ah
Yeah
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I flew through the sky
I flew through the sky I knew I could fly people asked me why they all got the same answer as I flew through the night I felt like a kite with a personality of my own I flew through the sky I hear someone yell like a cry I flew through the sky it was my mom she missed me much I flew through the sky as I heard crys I lowered down and held her hand we flew through the sky.
poem by Zaraya Berry
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Hawk IIII
So I sat up and stared at the place the hawk had been-
rose, shuffled to the window, in fact
the Barrio was still the Barrio, in every respect:
the Projects not going anywhere fast,
the cars still parked along the curb
yellow, black, red and green
the little tree empty of wrens.
'Well', I thought,
present or absent
a hawk makes nothing different.
Difference, the mis-en-scene, the meaning
being the human part, and up to me. The hawk
was just a hawk sitting in a place where you don't normally
expect to see a hawk, that's all.
But I couldn't help thinking of the way
the halk made the neighborhood quite wonderful-
here: a flyway, and gone,
just a desolate, hawkless tract.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Hawk Revisited
Told of the hawk on the rail
friends wink.
'A hawk? In the Barrio'?
Not knowing what to think
they glance at each other, first, then at their knees,
stare at the vacant rail, then back at me
as if I'd claimed to see
an elf in Bermudas sipping a Sea-Breeze;
hasten to agree
concluding my mistake, if any, harmless-
the sort of thing that happens every day,
'Goodbye', say, and quickly slip away.
Till I conclude the raptor on the rail
the ruins of a burst balloon
snatched by the wind from some child's bouquet
caught, now, on the rail's disjointed finger;
or, drifting in place
an expirant shred of sooty plastic;
some out-the-window flung
sheer article of lingerie;
a wretched mistake-
an hallucination
a figment of imagination,
indigestion-
anything but the hawk it was.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Stepping On The Stairs
in wanting to go up
you step on the stairs
on the first step
you have to please this black dog
with the meat of a cat
on the second step
you have to deceive this white cat
with the whiskers of a fish
on the third step
you have to please this pink mouse
with a collar of a black dog
rising on the fourth step
you have to convince the hawk
that the white cat is dead
advancing on the fifth step
the bull demands that the fish
must be caught with its fins clipped off
the sixth step is meticulous
you have to find a way to
reconcile the black cat and the white dog
on the seventh you will be confused
what to do and whom to really please
to reach the eight step
the ninth step has this owl
speaking to you to finally proceed
to the tenth step
and you want to advance some more
trying to figure out what these animals
are asking you to do without
creating all the chaos
you want to please them all
to get what you want
finally you take the tenth step
and you are too weary and guilty
and up there you find
there is really nothing worth
the taking at the end
there is just the wind
blowing your hair telling you nothing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To My Inspiring Muse
Inspire my mind to make
soul-stirring music,
to enthrall the doleful hearts
for enchanting this world………., …..(Inspire..)
When I fly through the
Himalayan Valleys,
ignite my heart to sing,
the paeans to Nature………..(Inspire..)
I want to enfold the
ennobling river Ganges
and enjoy a nap on the
lap of the cool breeze. ……….(Inspire….)
I should feel exalted
from my injured heart;
and from my freak frenzies,
I will be strewing flowers. …….. (Inspire…)
Heart-warming songs I can
sing in my mother tongue.
To tell her fame all the world
I strained me in other tongue.
I love to sink in the serene sea of English
to bring up the pearls for ensuring a new birth. …..(Inspire…)
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Hawk And Buckle
Where is the landlord of old Hawk and Buckle,
And what of Master Straddler this hot summer weather?
He's along in the tap-room with broad cheeks a-chuckle,
And ten bold companions all drinking together.
Where is the daughter of old Hawk and Buckle,
And what of Mistress Jenny this hot summer weather?
She sits in the parlour with smell of honeysuckle,
Trimming her bonnet with red ostrich feather.
Where is the ostler of old Hawk and Buckle,
And what of Willy Jakeman this hot summer weather?
He is rubbing his eyes with a slow and lazy knuckle
As he wakes from his nap on a bank of fresh heather.
Where is the page boy of old Hawk and Buckle,
And what of our young Charlie this hot summer weather?
He is bobbing for tiddlers in a little trickle-truckle,
With his line and his hook and his breeches of leather.
Where is the grey goat of old Hawk and Buckle,
And what of pretty Nanny this hot summer weather?
She stays not contented with little or with muckle,
Straining for daisies at the end of her tether.
For this is our motto at old Hawk and Buckle,
We cling to it close and we sing all together,
'Every man for himself at our old Hawk and Buckle,
And devil take the hindmost this hot summer weather.'
poem by Robert Graves
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I Believe in Muses
Nine to the Universe, the Nine Divine
I believe in Muses, Inspire me to dream sublime
Empress Omega, Betty Shabazz, Nzinga all of the Queens
I believe in Muses, Inspire me to achieve impossible dreams
Your sepia back, so strong and beautiful as obsidian
I believe in Muses, Inspire me to search where truth is hidden
Thighs, eyes, hips and lips, I desire you body and soul
I believe in Muses, Inspire me to an orgasmic loss of self control
Your beauty has inspired men to create, to build, to rise
I believe in Muses, Inspire me to be a King in your eyes
poem by Vince Rogers
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You Are A Human Being
You don’t float because
Your father is a carpenter
He floats well in water because
His father is a duck
On the other hand, he flies
Well in air, not because his
Father is a vulture, it is obvious
He looks like a hawk and acts like a hawk
It is obvious,
He is a hawk himself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Wings
The wings of a butterflly
caught my gaze
then quickly went away.
To catch a fleeting
glimpse of it
started my beautiful day.
The wings of a hungry hawk
caught my gaze
as he circled in my sight.
To glimpse the soaring bird of prey
ended my sorrowful night.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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AF01 moment i keep
i see hawk circling
looking at my ball
could be egg for her
shiny dimples weird
for her to stay longer
flew to big tree vanish
i know she will come
when weather is good
time for her to get food
she lives somewhere
around golf course
between lake and sea
poem by Manonton Dalan
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Bird Watching
Bird Watching
Two sparrows, on roof of my car, noisily chirped, five
more sparrows came, tweeted too and showed no debate
culture, then they flew off and left the couple to it.
One, the male, I think, flew off and left, I assume, her
alone; not for long, he came back peeped and left again;
did this three times, finally she flew off with him, but
she deeply sighed. A drama had passed, that I had seen
and judged with a human’s limited understanding of
the life of other spices. Bird dropping on the car roof,
I had witnessed a love story, good as any seen on TV,
and as afternoon soaps must, had ended blissfully.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Inspirational Death
Your death will inspire a thousand more.
The flames of your funeral pyre will ignite those of your fallen comrades.
Your death will inspire a nation to fight for its liberation.
The freed blood will be on your hands.
Your death will inspire the future.
poem by Melanie Fairhurst
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Even leaves beg me'' says Eagle
eagle, niggard and black
perched on sycomore on Nile bank
tasty fish gambolled in water
at lightening speed eagle caught
tasty fish and scrambled out
eagle flew and perched on a tree
man was under a tree
and glanced at what sat on tree
eagle and man eyes met at ninety angle
eagle flew away saying
''man may conjure him
by evil eyes''
eagle flew and perched on second tree
some birds were on that tree
Eagle and others birds eyes met at ninety angle
eagle flew away saying he
'' choke as birds watch him eating''
Eagle flew and perched on third tree
the breeze shook leaves of tree
eagle saw leaves unfolded shaking
like a begging hand
eagle flew away saying
'' everything beg me , even leaves
beg me too''
Eagle flew and perched on fourth withered tree
no birds, men and leaves around there
only exrtreme silence around there
eagle ate tasty fish
sang in loudest resounding voice
''eel fish and tasty fish are not the same
I ate tasyty fish until heart palpitated in happiness''
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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The sparrow flying behind the hawk thinks the hawk is fleeing.
L'oiseau bleu
The lake lay blue below the hill.
O'er it, as I looked, there flew
Across the waters, cold and still,
A bird whose wings were palest blue.
The sky above was blue at last,
The sky beneath me blue in blue.
A moment, ere the bird had passed,
It caught his image as he flew.
poem by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
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I don't think radio is selling records like they used to. They'd hawk the song and hawk the artist and you'd get so excited, you'd stop your car and go into the nearest record store.
quote by Herb Alpert
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fall Out
Fall out.
Fall in.
Fall out.
Fall in.
Fall out.
Fall in.
Goodnight, my love.
Goodbye, the feeling of leading you into my life.
I ran with the wind in my face, I was proud.
I flew with my father when I was allowed.
I felt like a hero when I was with you.
Those days I felt God,
They were far, they were few,
They were mine.
Goodnight, my babies.
Goodbye the memories of showing you, my pride and my joy.
You are the angels
a world spinning, full.
You are the reason I'll never need more.
I felt like a great man when I was with you.
Those days I felt, daughter,
They were far, they were few,
They were mine.
Fall out.
Fall in.
Fall out.
Fall in.
Goodnight, my friends.
Goodbye, the dreams that all danced their way into my life.
The horse of forever
We rode in our youth
We walked into heaven through hell in these boots
I feel a great love while I'm here in your arms.
You were all brothers
And fathers and sons,
You were mine.
Now I can finally see the light.
I can finally see you in the night.
Fall in.
Fall out.
Fall in.
Fall in.
I can finally see the light.
I can finally see you in the night.
I can finally see.
And I can finally see the light.
I can finally see you in this night.
Fall out.
song performed by by Train
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't Go Away
Cold and frosty morning there's not a lot to say
About the things caught in my mind
And as the day was dawning my plane flew away
With all the things caught in my mind
I don't wanna be there when you're ...
Coming down
I don't wanna be there when you hit the ground
So dont go away
song performed by by Oasis from Be Here Now
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ballades V - Of His Choice of a Sepulchre
HERE I ’d come when weariest!
Here the breast
Of the Windberg’s tufted over
Deep with bracken; here his crest
Takes the west,
Where the wide-winged hawk doth hover.
Silent here are lark and plover;
In the cover
Deep below, the cushat best
Loves his mate, and croons above
O’er their nest,
Where the wide-winged hawk doth hover.
Bring me here, Life’s tired-out guest,
To the blest
Bed that waits the weary rover,—
Here should failure be confest;
Ends my quest,
Where the wide-winged hawk doth hover!
ENVOY
Friend, or stranger kind, or lover,
Ah, fulfil a last behest,
Let me rest
Where the wide-winged hawk doth hover!
poem by Andrew Lang
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