There’s a dragon fly
hanging at the mirror image of the window
catching the eye of a shrike
and the bird flashes past with stretched out claws
and for a moment the insect vibrates scared
and are swept away
by the bird that later twitters on the barbed wire
where it pierces the insect with a nail
and I am caught in the scene
and see the spreading its black wings
preparing for the next victim
and every insect that it spots
it catches.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
A Dragon Fly
that lingers at the mirror image of the window
is swept away
when every insect catches the eye of a butcher bird
and I am caught in the scene
where it pierces the insect on the barbed wire,
is swept away
where the insect looses its life
and the bird is preparing for its next victim
where it pierces the insect on the barbed wire
and I see the bird spreading its black wing
as it twitters on the barbed wire and slaps its wings
and the bird is preparing for its next victim
while each insect it catches so smartly
where it is set on each movement,
as it twitters on the barbed wire and slaps its wings
and the bird becomes a deadly thing
that lingers at the mirror image of the window
where it is set on each movement,
when every insect catches the eye of a butcher bird.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The transformation scene, where man is becoming insect and insect has become at least man and beyond that - a flying, godlike, shimmering, diaphanous, beautiful creature.
quote by Michael O'Donoghue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Lion and the Insect
The Lion lazily lies on the grass,
Purveying his kingdom of gold flowers
As they sway in the wind, but kingdoms pass
And so too does sunlight with the hours.
The Lion grips the land with a well-placed paw.
The Earth trembles slightly beneath his claws.
The Insect unfolds its transparent wings
To swim through thick, sweaty savannah air.
It floats in the soupy mirage heat brings,
Transfixed on flying from the lambent glare
Of the open sky's harsh, cloudless splendor.
The hungry Insect mustn't surrender.
The Lion fears the Insect and hides among
The gold flowers. He's unafraid to rest.
While he worries that, if his paw were stung,
He could lose control of his clenched int'rests,
Like a coward, the Lion waits all night
Until the Insect dies a parasite.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Car Washers (Fun Poem 34)
You pull into a car park
and they spring out of nowhere.
“Do you want your car washed
while you’re doing your shopping?
We do not charge a lot.”
My answer is no.
“Sorry mate but my car is under scientific study.
I am an insect- ornithologist.
I study bird droppings and insect splatters.
I get out every night with my tweezers,
take the remaining bits off,
and put them in a specimen jar.
I am also going in for
the dirtiest car of the year award.
I have won it three times already.
So you see my car does not need a wash thank you.”
They look at me somewhat strangely
before they go on their merry way.
Therefore, the next time you pull into a car park
and someone wants to wash your car.
Just tell them you are an insect-ornithologist
engaged in a scientific study.
They will never understand what you mean.
They might think you are somewhat strange,
but you will save yourself a packet.
Now that ain’t strange, that is wise.
(22 July 2007)
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Six legs... but who can see them? .....[SHORT; Nature observations; Humor]or]bservation; Humor]
As I read an article about how we humans age,
I suddenly spied a comma crawling slowly ‘cross the page.
I knew it couldn't be a comma, but it WAS so small
that if it were much smaller, I'd NOT see it at all.
I'm sure it was an insect or some related critter.
I wonder if, on that page, it did leave some insect litter.
I tried to pick out the legs it'd have if an insect it truly were,
but my eyes, not being microscopes, could only see a moving blur.
poem by Bri Edwards
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Reflections On The Water
A Blue cloud
shaped like a bird
spreading its wings
on the water,
a clover leaf falls
creating some ripples
a fish jumping
trying to reach an
odd shaped flying
insect,
my face is crooked
waving like
a silk scarf
reflections of
half truths but
naked still
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
O' Violence In The Mind Of Spinsters!
A tiny insect bite,
On the slender foot
Of adolescent girl!
Her feet are soft like petal,
The pain is so severe,
She gets lot of tears!
Soft nature in her disappears,
Smashed the insect to smears,
O' Violence in the mind of spinsters!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Spider
'OH, look at that great ugly spider!' said Ann;
And screaming, she brush'd it away with her fan;
''Tis a frightful black creature as ever can be,
I wish that it would not come crawling on me. '
'Indeed,' said her mother, 'I'll venture to say,
The poor thing will try to keep out of your way;
For after the fright, and the fall, and the pain,
It has much more occasion than you to complain.
'But why should you dread the poor insect, my dear?
If it hurt you, there'd be some excuse for your fear;
But its little black legs, as it hurried away,
Did but tickle your arm, as they went, I dare say.
'For them to fear us we must grant to be just,
Who in less than a moment can tread them to dust;
But certainly we have no cause for alarm;
For, were they to try, they could do us no harm.
'Now look! it has got to its home; do you see
What a delicate web it has spun in the tree?
Why here, my dear Ann, is a lesson for you:
Come learn from this spider what patience can do!
'And when at your business you're tempted to play,
Recollect what you see in this insect to-day,
Or else, to your shame, it may seem to be true,
That a poor little spider is wiser than you. '
poem by Ann Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Restrictions for migratory birds
I hear they make barbed wire fences and invisible meshes
Over the tourist Liberty islands sky.
Because they spend millions for cleaning bird droppings.
Not only that,
They are scared of bird songs too
As their politicians cannot sing as same as birds.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Tiny Fellow Traveller
An insect shaped like a butterfly
Not really willing to die
For he feared to be flown
By the wind that was being blown
In the train I was travelling by
Which was passing through low and high
Leaving barren and tilled landscapes behind
And moving regularly ahead towards its goal to find;
The insect was too small
Trying his best to creep on a wall
Of flesh and blood which was of my
No other than but left thigh
On which he was creeping
To find a shelter or something
To be safe against the blowing wind
This he decided in his mind;
His wings blotted black and white
For me it's a fine sight
I was infatuated by the scene
And everything else was to me unscene
He still lay on my thigh
As if trying to be safer
But the wind was not getting slower
Nor did he pass anywhere by;
Meanwhile, the rain started
And even closer to me he shifted
I spread my palm on his body
To avoid wind and rain drops
When the rain and the wind ceased
And my train at its goal reached
He slipped somewhere away
Bidding me no thanks nor good bye.
poem by Indresh Kumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Birdbrain
Streaking, braking, twisting snatching,
Willie Wagtail's insect catching,
acrobatic chatterbox is garbed in black and white.
Overhead a falcon gliding
wheels and dives, hones in, colliding,
nail-gun force in outstretched claws which strike and lock in tight.
Falcon's talons raking feathers,
small-boned bird eludes caged tethers,
spirals down to dropp within a crown of needled pine.
Cradled safe in twiglet fences,
Wagtail blinks, regaining senses,
splintered wing hangs limply from a slashed and bloodied spine.
Wagtails are unused to resting,
soon, the broken bird is testing,
asymmetric fluttering as painful minutes slip.
Drifting, slowly dehydrating,
ants begin investigating;
as they nip, it hops, retreating, reaching pine limb's tip.
Still it watches insects flicking,
body clock's insistent ticking,
urges nesting, feeding, singing, borders to defend.
Tiny size can be deceptive,
this small bird is quite perceptive,
constantly deciding, many duties to attend.
Suddenly it launches, sailing,
briefly floats, then cartwheels flailing,
Willie Wagtail's final, fatal leap into the sky.
Insects hover, soon to plunder-
Can a bug feel smug?
I wonder.....
No,
but maybe birds can choose to linger or to fly.
poem by Diane Hine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Spider
"Oh, look at that great ugly spider!" said Ann;
And screaming, she brush'd it away with her fan;
"'Tis a frightful black creature as ever can be,
I wish that it would not come crawling on me. "
"Indeed," said her mother, "I'll venture to say,
The poor thing will try to keep out of your way;
For after the fright, and the fall, and the pain,
It has much more occasion than you to complain.
"But why should you dread the poor insect, my dear?
If it hurt you, there'd be some excuse for your fear;
But its little black legs, as it hurried away,
Did but tickle your arm, as they went, I dare say.
"For them to fear us we must grant to be just,
Who in less than a moment can tread them to dust;
But certainly we have no cause for alarm;
For, were they to try, they could do us no harm.
"Now look! it has got to its home; do you see
What a delicate web it has spun in the tree?
Why here, my dear Ann, is a lesson for you:
Come learn from this spider what patience can do!
"And when at your business you're tempted to play,
Recollect what you see in this insect to-day,
Or else, to your shame, it may seem to be true,
That a poor little spider is wiser than you. "
poem by Jane Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I wanted to know the name of every stone and flower and insect and bird and beast. I wanted to know where it got its color, where it got its life - but there was no one to tell me.
quote by George Washington Carver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
As I had a walk on the path over the hill (roundelay)
As I had a walk on the path on the hill
the wind did swish and then it was quite still
the flowering of the aloes had begun
amongst the rocks in the summer sun.
A bird flapped loose rose into the sky,
up and up did some surging eagles fly
while a flock of rock rabbits did run
amongst the rocks in the summer sun.
Every bird and insect was absolutely free
and that experience remains still with me,
as the beautiful lily that I came upon
amongst the rocks in the summer sun.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Insect
Insect.
On my blue lined writing pad a tiny insect walks,
it appears lost and hesitates before crossing a line,
lost in this vast wilderness of the unwritten.
I try to blow it off the paper, but somehow glues
itself to the paper and will not budge.
I cannot touch it tiny as it is I will surely squash it.
Nothing I can do for now, leave it to its own devise,
go watch TV. When I returned it has gone, a sheet
of paper with nothing written on is a lonely place
and has no story to tell.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Because It Sings....
there is a man inside the cage
but you cannot tell that he is a man
because
by all appearances of it
it has black wings, sharp claws, it is muted
by a beak
it can only sing in syllables
it is wrapped by
shiny feathers
it is a bird, a black bird and by all means
you cannot tell
that it is angry
because it sings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Juanita / Kiteless / To Dream Of Love
Your rails. youre thin.
Your thin paper wings.
Your thin paper wings.
In the wind. dangling.
Your sun. fly high.
Your window shattering.
Your rails. youre thin.
Your thin paper wings.
Sugar box. sugar boy.
Riding in. riding in.
Sugar box. sugar boy.
Handheld candle. sugar boy.
Your rails. youre thin.
Your thin paper wings.
Your thin paper wings.
In the wind. dangling.
Your sun. fly high.
Your window shattered in the wind.
Your coca cola sign rattling.
Resonator.
Homeless trees. gathering.
Outside your window bootleg babies call
To you and lie among the mosquitoes.
That summers fever coming.
Cats are gathering outside your window.
Homeless trees. bootleg babies calling
To you. lie among. lie among the mosquitoes.
Your rails. youre thin.
Your thin paper wings.
Get up in your sun. fly high.
Dangling. dangling.
Your window shattered in the wind.
The sun on your coca cola sign.
Your rails. your thin
Paper wings. paper wings.
Resonator ...
There is a sound on the other side of this wall.
A bird is singing on the other side of this glass.
Footsteps. concealed.
Silence is preserving a voice.
Walking in the wind at the waters edge
Comes close to covering my rubber feet.
Listening to the barbed wire hanging.
There is a sound on the other side of this wall.
A bird is singing on the other side of this glass.
Footsteps. concealed.
Silence is preserving a voice.
Silver chain. thrown away. broken wing.
song performed by by Underworld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!