After the rain
After the rain
the air is full of swallows
swishing up and down
hanging in it
to catch flying white ants
and I see them ascending
and descending twittering.
Some sit as if strung together
right next to each other
on the silver lamp post
and hordes are invited
to the feast of the swallows.
Later when I sit in my study
there is a bird
that that lands on my windowsill
that looks like a parrot to me
and seeing itself in the window
pecks constantly against it
or maybe it’s something else
that I take as a parrot
and its head is scarlet red
up to its neck,
its eyes wide from each other
and its beak is bended
and below the red
its pitch black
and the rest of its body is light green
and I know that it’s too late
for the festival of the other birds
but maybe it would rather have
An apple or two
and every day
I now wait on Polla
or whatever its name is
to come back
to awake me with its knocking
and maybe I will catch him
but it’s rather much better
to be without a cage
and never again to be cooped in.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
A Swarm of Swallows
A swarm of swallows turning twittering
tries to reveal with their swishing flight
that a huge thunderstorm is coming
and with electricity the sky is charged pitch black
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sea Of Land
My animals are swept from the sea and land,
They inhabit the outer realms when awake
But die when asleep, the peace is so immense for them.
My friendly parrot is upon my skull,
It needs my companionship like the rain and snow.
The sun and stars visit it in its sleep,
Yet it succumbs to me every day in my speech.
The animals also need me as they need my parrot,
The birds are flowing in the air, and my parrot dies.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Bat
At evening, sitting on this terrace,
When the sun from the west, beyond Pisa, beyond the mountains of Carrara
Departs, and the world is taken by surprise ...
When the tired flower of Florence is in gloom beneath the glowing
Brown hills surrounding ...
When under the arches of the Ponte Vecchio
A green light enters against stream, flush from the west,
Against the current of obscure Arno ...
Look up, and you see things flying
Between the day and the night;
Swallows with spools of dark thread sewing the shadows together.
A circle swoop, and a quick parabola under the bridge arches
Where light pushes through;
A sudden turning upon itself of a thing in the air.
A dip to the water.
And you think:
'The swallows are flying so late!'
Swallows?
Dark air-life looping
Yet missing the pure loop ...
A twitch, a twitter, an elastic shudder in flight
And serrated wings against the sky,
Like a glove, a black glove thrown up at the light,
And falling back.
Never swallows!
Bats!
The swallows are gone.
At a wavering instant the swallows gave way to bats
By the Ponte Vecchio ...
Changing guard.
Bats, and an uneasy creeping in one's scalp
As the bats swoop overhead!
Flying madly.
Pipistrello!
Black piper on an infinitesimal pipe.
Little lumps that fly in air and have voices indefinite, wildly vindictive;
Wings like bits of umbrella.
Bats!
Creatures that hang themselves up like an old rag, to sleep;
And disgustingly upside down.
Hanging upside down like rows of disgusting old rags
And grinning in their sleep.
Bats!
Not for me!
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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Cage Parrot
Parrot in the cage -
kept aside in the platform,
fortune teller by the side -
laments, 'O' God,
the peanuts exhausted,
the owner is disgusted,
my working hour is not yet over'
Yours lovingly,
CAGE PARROT.
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Show and tell day
It was the day for show and tell
I took my pet parrot along to class
Everything went excessively well
Until it unexpectedly turned wild
It swept off the teacher’s secret wig
With a strong swoop from its perch
Everyone’s eyes turned really big
At the confused parrot’s sudden lurch
The stunned class went berserk
The parrot screeched in absolute fright
Panic seized Tommy, the anxious nerd
With lightning speed he took flight
Grabbing the teacher’s favourite jug
I filled it up with tidbits for my pet
Racing to the petrified bird over a rug
It responded to the treat as fast as a jet
My subdued parrot did not feel bad
Although it seemed a nervous wreck
The embarrassed teacher was fuming mad
Despite getting his precious wig back
Catch Me Up
Hello, hello, I'm glad to see you
Now we'll only stop to say goodbye
We'll go, we'll go just where we want to
We won't let the others bleed us dry
'Cause I am but a fool for you, that's right
And I got nothing to lose that I'd choose tonight
Come on, come on we should be leaving
But I let another one go by
Oh no, oh no, I couldn't leave you
Though I know they'd like to make me try
'Cause I shot down the moon for you, that's right
'Cause I got something to prove to you tonight
I will always wait for you to catch me up, yeah
I will always wait for you to catch me up, yeah
I will always wait for you to catch me up, yeah
I will always wait for you to catch me up
You know, you know I want to please you
And now's the time to let me try
Will you, will you do as I do?
Will you wait for me it's do or die?
'Cause I don't ever wanna see you cry
Yeah, I will never leave you high and dry
I, yeah, I...
I will always wait for you to catch me up, yeah
I will always wait for you to catch me up, yeah
I will always wait for you to catch me up, yeah
I will always wait for you to catch me up, yeah
I will always wait for you to catch me up, yeah
I will always wait for you to catch me up, yeah
I will always wait for you to catch me up, yeah
I will always wait for you to catch me up, yeah
I will always wait for you to catch me
I will always wait for you to catch me
I will always wait for you to catch me
I will always wait for you to catch me
song performed by by Gomez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Doves fly past in pairs
Doves fly from sunrise
until late afternoon past in pairs
and the whole day their singing resounds
and just before the rainstorm comes (out of season)
the air is full of swallows
sweeping up and down
catching insects.
starlings, sparrows and finches scream
as if the end of this autumn,
is already the beginning of spring
where they are eating blue-black berries
in evergreen trees
and it’s as if nature
knows something secret about this winter.
The rays of the sun are now measured out much cooler
but the grass still has its green colour
and there are irises
which flowers out of season
from all the rain
and the giant sage bush
is covered with purple clusters
hanging in strings
and early in the mornings when I get up later
the black-collard barbet knocks me awake
asking screeching
when I am going to get up
and I look at him
where he endlessly are scolding me
and I wonder
why the birds
are suddenly so jolly?
or do they know
that the season
is at the edge of change
and that man with pollution
is causing irreparable damage?
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Parrot
The Parrot.
The café in our village has shut. The couple who ran it left
when their parrot died. They had kept the place open for it,
since it was a genial bird. The parrot called everyone who
entered idiots; people laughed no one took offence, or so
we all thought. But someone must have taken umbrage, it
was shot through the window when the café was empty.
Feather everywhere the village was shocked, who could do
such a shameful deed? The culprit, was a farmer, who had
drunk his coffee at the café for twenty odd years, and had
enough of being called an idiot. The moral of this sad tale,
if there is any: if you call a man an idiot long enough he will
end up being one.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Set free
Set free
I was bonded laborer
Always sad and never happier
Kept in chains and not allowed to move
I prayed almighty to set me free and remove
It is like dark dungeon
Secluded place like pavilion
You are confined alone
To spend the life in isolation
No one must be kept in bondage
To be set free is divine privilege
Slavery had been in practice for ages
Same condition even not liked by birds in cage
I saw green parrot in captivity
It forced me to remember days being suffered under barbarity
I opened the gate for parrot to flee
Bird was in confinement and not allowed to fly as free
I could witness energy in his wings
Special sound was originated when he tried to sing
As if lions roared in jungle but with mind sound in air
Parrot crossed over river and looked for some one to make pair
How can we chain someone against will?
Let it be birds, human beings or wild animals
All love freedom and free movement
Ever felt joy with happiness at that moment
Enjoy and feel freedom for all
Don't create hurdle or high scale wall
World is to see and enjoy
Not to suffer and make others to annoy
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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I think a cute movie idea would be about a parrot who is raised by eagles. It would be cute because the parrot can't seem to act like an eagle. After a while, though, to keep the movie from getting boring, maybe put in some pornography. Later, we see the happy parrot flying along, acting like an eagle. He see two parrots below and starts to attack, but it's his parents. Then, some more pornography.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Flight Of a Bird
Wings stretched, eyes wide
As the nest wobbles side to side
The small bird sits on it's edge
His heart racing as he looks off the ledge
A little lumo in his throat keeps his beak tight
And he swallows and takes in the sight
His small heart pounding, his tallons spread
Thoughts racing through his head
He bounces once, twice, his first try
He lands on his back, back in the nest, and lets out a sigh
He gets back on the edge for another try at flight
He watches, determined to fly before night.
He bounces again and rises into the sky
His eyesclenched closed, he gulps, and hopes he won't die.
A little squeak omes from his beack
He flops his wings with fury and he takes a peak
His eyes now wide with joy with pride,
He flies so gracefully, as a human may stirde
Through the endless daylight
He flies like a small childs kite.
His heart slows as he swoops
And he preforms a loppy- loop
Then he sees the light dim and he swoops like a jet,
As he flies into the sunset.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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The Black Bird That Keeps On Flying
the black bird
keeps on flying
over my head
its wing tips
touch my hair
the black bird
weeps
and my mind
cannot ignore
it
it is seeing you
again
and it does not
know
what to do
with its beak
it wants to kiss you
but your eyes
are angry
it wants to land over
your hair
but they are hard
as wires
the black bird
has no nest for
its eggs
you never mind it
your mind
thinks always of
that white bird
in the sky
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ignored. (a Seagull Story)
Ignored. (A seagull story)
At the seaside restaurant it was busy everyone was eating lobsters,
I tried to catch the waiters’ eye. I was ignored and got the feeling
that I was Invisible, or that I was so small that my head didn’t reached
over the table. A seagull landed on my table a beautiful bird,
yellow beak and feet, plumage snowy white its wings light grey/blue
and its eyes were green; it also had the aroma of the Atlantic Ocean.
Waiter came, looked at the bird asked what it wanted, lobster, I said
when the dish came I gave it to the bird. Got up, left and no one tried
to stop me.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Swallows in the summertime
Swallows in the summertime
The swallows have returned again,
Reminding me of those halcyon days of my youth,
Many years have passed since those blissful days,
I would spend many happy evenings watch them dart around.
The swallows always return each summer,
Spreading their joyful wings over England's green and pleasant land,
Every summer I wonder how many more times will I see the return,
Although it's summer again, I ‘am approaching the winter of my life.
When the swallows return again next year again,
I wonder if I will still be here to see them again,
Flying on the wing under the clear blue skies of summer,
If I ‘am, I will sit by the babbling brook and watch their dance once more.
If I see the swallows return once more,
I will remember those summer days of long ago,
When I was a lad and the countryside seemed to go on forever,
And in my mind I will be young again.
By Christopher Tye
poem by Christopher Tye
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Wisdom Parrot
A call of 'key, key'
In the skies above the house
A kind of squeak
'Key, key' of parrots
Delivering a routine green evening
Signalling that my heart be open
To see one mounted by Kamadeva
Another one Andal holding in Her hand
Some more each with
Multi-faceted consort of Shiva
Another one, a guise, sage Arunagiri
Questing for Parijatha
And ofcourse parrot-faced Sukhabrahmam
Importantly preaching Bhagavatham...
Parrot parroting the Truth
Mortals' inner truth of wisdom-quest
Through love and desire
There's an enlightened plumage green and divine
Red-beaked from the 'Bakula'tree
Gazing at me 'key'key'ing
My heart blooms a smile
A parrot to parrot to me
The quest on wisdom
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Parrot In Paradise
Parrot in the cyclone eye
spread his sodden wings to dry.
Wall of wind approaching sly
snapped him up and flung him high.
Swept aloft a hundred mile,
dropped on black volcanic isle,
Parrot viewed the ashy pile;
not the jolliest exile.
Parrot flew around the peak,
finding there a pleasing scene.
Brought a smile to his beak,
a little paradise of green.
After roaming full extent
sadly, it seemed evident,
on this fertile lava vent
he alone was resident.
Long he scanned surrounding seas
for a sign to still unease.
Tossed ashore, one day on breeze;
a mat of storm-whipped splintered trees.
Lifeless, though it first appeared,
something moved and Parrot neared.
In Chameleon's eyes he peered,
'How d'you do'? he squawked and cheered.
'What's your name? Please come ashore!
I won't bore, I've tales galore.
I can tell we've great rapport.
Did I mention, I don't snore'?
Cautiously, Chameleon
left the safety of the raft.
Black sand beach, it stepped upon.
Parrot danced around, quite daft.
'Bu Parleur's my name, I'm fine;
means I like to drink and talk.
Let's ferment some island wine,
we'll walk the talk and squawk the walk'.
Parrot boasted, 'I'm a Chick……'
'Yes', Chameleon replied.
'What? No! Ha! Well done, you're quick;
Chick Magnet'! Parrot glibly lied.
Reaching welcome leafy shade,
shy Chameleon's fears allayed,
back and forth it gently swayed,
swiveled turret eyes; surveyed.
'Can I call you Cham for short?
Do you think I'm beady-eyed?
Shall we dance, play cards or sport'?
'Yes', Chameleon replied.
'Do you like my feathered suit?
Would you like some seeds or fruit'?
(Cham caught fly, with aim astute)
'Wow', said Parrot, 'My, you're cute'.
'Like the way you aim and flick,
love those slinky moves, real slick,
I've got tricks and you've got shtick.
What shall we do now? You pick'
'See my feet, you'll be enthralled,
two toes forward, two toes back.
ZygoDACtylous that's called.
I dig your color-changing knack'.
Parrot stared at Cham's small feet;
cried 'I knew it! ain't life swell.
We are so alike, that's neat.
You're zygodactylous as well'!
And so, the pair became firm friends,
bonded by their common ends.
Castaways the island tends,
castaways the island mends.
Soft the moonlit night descends,
loud, the parrot's song ascends.
Zygodactylous me….
Zygodactylous you...
Zygodactylous we….
Zygodactylous two…
Zygodactylous zygodactylous zygodactylous me…
poem by Diane Hine
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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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Sonnet: All Things Have a Purpose
A wild tree grows for ants to be its guests!
Old water-tank helps frogs spawn, croak each year;
A neem tree grows for birds to build their nests;
The refuse-dumps rear insects sounding ear.
The cut tree-trunks help white ants eat and breed;
The papayas help birds to beak with joy;
On wild berries, squirrels happily feed;
The tall palm-trees house pea-fowls to enjoy.
The wilder trees add greenness to the earth;
The wild flowers give nectar to wild bees;
The parrot-noise though disturbing, gives mirth;
His duty to His creatures all, God sees.
Don’t blame something if you can’t understand;
God knows the uses of the desert-sand!
poem by John Celes
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The Ruins Of My Dreamland
My hopes are seeping through my fingers like dry sands
My love has broken the cage of my heart like a parrot
And she is flying away to somewhere else
All my sweet plans are being shattered
By the storms of disappointments
My mind has become heavier than earth
I am carrying it on my shoulders
I am walking through the ruins of my dreamland
I am sailing on the sea of tears in search of an island
I am flying in the sky of sorrow like a migratory bird
poem by Asif Andalib
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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
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