A Canary At The Farm
Folks has be'n to town, and Sahry
Fetched 'er home a pet canary--,
And of all the blame', contrary,
Aggervatin' things alive!
I love music-- that I love it
When it's free-- and plenty of it--;
But I kindo' git above it,
At a dollar-eighty-five!
Reason's plain as I'm a-sayin'--,
Jes' the idy, now, o' layin'
Out yer money, and a-payin'
Fer a willer-cage and bird,
When the medder-larks is wingin'
Round you, and the woods is ringin'
With the beautifullest singin'
That a mortal ever heard!
Sahry's sot, tho'--. So I tell her
He's a purty little feller,
With his wings o' creamy-yeller,
And his eyes keen as a cat;
And the twitter o' the critter
'Pears to absolutely glitter!
Guess I'll haf to go and git her
A high-priceter cage 'n that!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Poor Folks Town
The work is hard and the hours are long
The money aint much but we get along
Were rich in things can give
That cant be bought with a dollar bill
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no carpets on the floor
Weve got wall to wall love
Who could ask for more
We got no big fine things to show
Just a place to watch our children grow
We got no big fine fancy car to drive
And no fancy clothes to keep in style
What weve got were payin on
But its mostly love that were livin on
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
Weve got a little simple church nearby
And the promise of a mansion in the sky
A heart of gold a million dollar smile
And a one way ticket to paradise
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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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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Right Here At Home
Right here at home, boys, in old Hoosierdom,
Where strangers allus joke us when they come,
And brag o' _their_ old States and interprize--
Yit _settle_ here; and 'fore they realize,
They're 'hoosier' as the rest of us, and live
Right here at home, boys, with their past fergive!
Right here at home, boys, is the place, I guess,
Fer me and you and plain old happiness:
We hear the World's lots grander--likely so,--
We'll take the World's word fer it and not go.--
We know _its_ ways aint _our_ ways--so we'll stay
Right here at home, boys, where we know the way.
Right here at home, boys, where a well-to-do
Man's plenty rich enough--and knows it, too,
And's got a' extry dollar, any time,
To boost a feller up 'at _wants_ to climb
And 's got the git-up in him to go in
And _git there_, like he purt'-nigh allus kin!
Right here at home, boys, is the place fer us!--
Where folks' heart's bigger 'n their money-pu's';
And where a _common_ feller's jes as good
As ary other in the neighborhood:
The World at large don't worry you and me
Right here at home, boys, where we ort to be!
Right here at home, boys--jes right where we air!--
Birds don't sing any sweeter anywhere:
Grass don't grow any greener'n she grows
Acrost the pastur' where the old path goes,--
All things in ear-shot's purty, er in sight,
Right here at home, boys, ef we _size_ 'em right.
Right here at home, boys, where the old home-place
Is sacerd to us as our mother's face,
Jes as we rickollect her, last she smiled
And kissed us--dyin' so and rickonciled,
Seein' us all at home here--none astray--
Right here at home, boys, where she sleeps to-day.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Bird Story, The Hint...
watching you in full beauty
is an attempt of my hand to set myself free
i have the key and the door is not locked
there is no use for the key even
no one is locking me in and i am always
free at any time of the day to go
and be the wings of the bird that
my mind imagines every hour of the
waking day
there was once a bird captured by an enemy
put inside a cage and well feed
and well attended
it sings of freedom and love and beauty
in one sad song
the enemy decides to open the cage to set it free
the bird doubts this time
the enemy has become a loyal friend
the cage has become its sweetest home
the words are the same as arranged in that desired ending
ah, they all live happily ever after....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Romancin
I' b'en a-kindo musin', as the feller says, and I'm
About o' the conclusion that they ain't no better time,
When you come to cipher on it, than the times we used to know
When we swore our first 'dog-gone-it' sorto solem'-like and low!
You git my idy, do you?--_Little_ tads, you understand--
Jes' a wishin' thue and thue you that you on'y was a _man_.--
Yit here I am, this minute, even forty, to a day,
And fergittin' all that's in it, wishin' jes' the other way!
I hain't no hand to lectur' on the times, er dimonstrate
Whur the trouble is, er hector and domineer with Fate,--
But when I git so flurried, and so pestered-like and blue,
And so rail owdacious worried, let me tell you what I do!--
I jes' gee-haw the hosses, and unhook the swingle-tree,
Whur the hazel-bushes tosses down their shadders over me,
And I draw my plug o' navy, and I climb the fence, and set
Jes' a-thinkin' here, 'y gravy! till my eyes is wringin'-wet!
Tho' I still kin see the trouble o' the _present_, I kin see--
Kindo like my sight was double--all the things that _used to be_;
And the flutter o' the robin, and the teeter o' the wren
Sets the willer branches bobbin 'howdy-do' thum Now to Then!
The deadnin' and the thicket's jes' a bilin' full of June,
Thum the rattle o' the cricket, to the yallar-hammer's tune;
And the catbird in the bottom, and the sap-suck on the snag,
Seems ef they cain't--od-rot'em!--jes' do nothin' else but brag!
They's music in the twitter of the bluebird and the jay,
And that sassy little critter jes' a-peckin' all the day;
They's music in the 'flicker,' and they's music in the thrush,
And they's music in the snicker o' the chipmunk in the brush!
They's music _all around_ me!--And I go back, in a dream--
Sweeter yit than ever found me fast asleep--and in the stream
That used to split the medder whur the dandylions growed,
I stand knee-deep, and redder than the sunset down the road.
Then's when I' b'en a-fishin'!--and they's other fellers, too,
With their hickry poles a-swishin' out behind 'em; and a few
Little 'shiners' on our stringers, with their tails tiptoein' bloom,
As we dance 'em in our fingers all the happy journey home.
I kin see us, true to Natur', thum the time we started out
With a biscuit and a 'tater in our little 'roundabout!'
I kin see our lines a-tanglin', and our elbows in a jam,
And our naked legs a-danglin' thum the apern of the dam.
I kin see the honeysuckle climbin' up around the mill;
And kin hear the worter chuckle, and the wheel a-growlin' still;
And thum the bank below it I kin steal the old canoe,
And jes' git in and row it like the miller used to do.
W'y, I git my fancy focussed on the past so mortal plain
I kin even smell the locus'-blossoms bloomin' in the lane;
And I hear the cow-bells clinkin' sweeter tunes 'n 'money musk'
Far the lightnin'-bugs a-blinkin'and a-dancin'in the dusk.
And so I keep on musin', as the feller says, till I'm
Firm-fixed in the conclusion that they hain't no better time,
When you come to cipher on it, than the _old_ times,--and, I swear,
I kin wake and say 'dog-gone-it!' jes' as soft as any prayer!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jim
He was jes a plain ever'-day, all-round kind of a jour.,
Consumpted-Iookin'-- but la!
The jokeiest, wittiest, story-tellin', song-singin', laughin'est, jolliest
Feller you ever saw!
Worked at jes coarse work, but you kin bet he was fine enough in his talk,
And his feelin's too!
Lordy! Ef he was on'y back on his bench ag'in to-day, a- carryin' on
Like he ust to do!
Any shopmate'll tell you there never was, on top o' dirt,
A better feller'n Jim!
You want a favor, and couldn't git it anywheres else--
You could git it o' him!
Most free-heartedest man thataway in the world, I guess!
Give up ever' nickel he's worth--
And ef you'd a-wanted it, and named it to him, and it was his,
He'd a-give you the earth!
Allus a reachin' out, Jim was, and a-he'ppin' some
Pore feller onto his feet--
He'd a-never a-keered how hungry he was hisse'f,
So's the feller got somepin' to eat!
Didn't make no differ'nce at all to him how he was dressed,
He ust to say to me--,
'You togg out a tramp purty comfortable in winter-time, a huntin' a job,
And he'll git along!' says he.
Jim didn't have, ner never could git ahead, so overly much
O' this world's goods at a time--.
'Fore now I've saw him, more'n onc't, lend a dollar, and haf to, more'n
likely,
Turn round and borry a dime!
Mebby laugh and joke about it hisse'f fer awhile-- then jerk his coat,
And kindo' square his chin,
Tie on his apern, and squat hisse'f on his old shoe-bench,
And go to peggin' ag'in!
Patientest feller too, I reckon, 'at ever jes natchurly
Coughed hisse'f to death!
Long enough after his voice was lost he'd laugh in a whisper and say
He could git ever'thing but his breath--
'You fellers,' he'd sorto' twinkle his eyes and say,
'Is a-pilin' onto me
A mighty big debt fer that-air little weak-chested ghost o' mine to pack
Through all Eternity!'
Now there was a man 'at jes 'peared-like, to me,
'At ortn't a-never a-died!
'But death hain't a-showin' no favors,' the old boss said--
'On'y to Jim!' and cried:
And Wigger, who puts up the best sewed-work in the shop--
Er the whole blame neighborhood--,
He says, 'When God made Jim, I bet you He didn't do anything else that day
But jes set around and feel good!'
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Little Little Man
Little little man, little little man,
set free your canary that wants to fly.
I am that canary, little little man,
leave me to fly.
I was in your cage, little little man,
little little man who gave me my cage.
I say "little little" because you don't understand me
Nor will you understand.
Nor do I understand you, but meanwhile,
open for me the cage from which I want to escape.
Little little man, I loved you half an hour,
Don't ask me again.
poem by Alfonsina Storni
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Eternal Freedom
They say the truth sets us free but lately it feels like it's been choking, suffocating, and binding me
Some people would describe me as free as a bird say I go with the flow, at least that's what I've heard
I hope this is just a phase because lately I've been feeling caged, I must have thought a thousand times about flying free, but somethings always been there thank God to stop me
As long as I can remember I've been in this cage as a matter of fact in this 'cage' I guess you could say I've been raised
But as the years go on I'm not gonna lie my love and need for this 'cage' has started to die and all because of my stupid desire to fly
'Why dont you just fly away free? ' You may ask me, because I'm afraid you see of what would happen if the ones I love were to catch me being something I promised I would never be
I'm afraid they'd no longer be proud of me and everything I've worked so hard for would be down the drain you see
'What is freedom? ' You may ask me, honestly I don't know none of us do really, for this whole world is caged and waiting to be set free and I long for the day when our savior will give us the key
The Key To Our Freedom Eternally
poem by Tiger Lily Love
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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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Curiosity Killed The Cat
I remember so well
Watching a cat at the balcony,
Reaching for my caged canary.
He purred and taunted the canary
And flailed his persnickety paws
In a mad flurry of jousts.
The wind waltzed over the cage
And the dwindling of it
Made the cat’s head writhe from
One flourish after another.
He purred, whirred and gave
Out sighs of desperation
But still he was stern in his feline physique
That smoldered of poise and starvation.
One mad summer, while the Sun
Took photographs of his exhausted self,
The cat finally grasped the beam of
The cage - the canary sang of consummation.
But the next riddle was how to
Open the cage where the canary sat.
The canary continued to croon the
Symphonies of a cat preparing
His canine fangs, his woebegone claws
To consume the canary -
But what the cat did not understand
Was that the canary was bastioned
Adroitly behind these rusting pillars.
The wind gains force, and its savagery
Was ready for a bastinado.
The wind darted across the lingering
Body of the cat as it was hectic
With frantically opening the cage,
Poor cat fell from the balcony,
Plummeted into the city
He made no sound,
Only impressions upon the cage
As the untouched canary
Sang of deceit.
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
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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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The Free Bird
i shall not talk about the free bird
about the cage
judge shall i not about what really
happened after
the fruition of freedom
for the bird may be free and now
flying all the corners of directions
the heavens and the
gardens and rivers of love flowing
yet on the night when it rests
upon a branch
the thought comes somehow
unavoidably
the cage though
to her a prison has sometime
in one precious moment
pure love and devotion
she once felt.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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In Your Bird Cage
If I were a little bird,
Would you play with
me?
Catch me for your cage,
Hold me tenderly.
Someday, place me safely
there,
In your cage, without a care.
Find a blanket oh so warm,
To protect me from lifes
storm.
One day when its hot and
dry,
Provide a drink, so I won't
cry.
Always help to quench my
thurst,
So my little tummy won't
burst.
Give me love each day through,
This I will return to you.
In the bird cage of your
heart,
This little bird, will not
depart.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lonely Bird and I
my little bird
is still in its cage
for years
i never hear it tweet
a happy song
i know it has kept
that song for years
but i never ask
it to sing it for me
i like to set it free
but it has learned
to love its solitude
in the cage
birds from the fields
on early mornings
seduce it to come out
and fly with them
but it is loyal to my
company
i have not asked it
about any desire for
freedom
sometimes i tell it
something about the
blue sky and the
fresh wind
and the beauty of some
far places
that i have been
to
there were many times
when i left it alone
and when i come back
it does not say anything
about loneliness
at all
when i think that it must
be dead
it stretches its wings
rebutting my theory
that it is possibly
a dead resurrected
for indeed it is alive
and in loneliness
have learned to thrive
it taunts me sometimes
that we have so many things
in common
but it kept things the
way they should be
always in secrecy
always with self-respect
about our own self-inflicted
choices
about our honest acceptance
of who we are
and of what have we become
you ask me about loneliness
and i have all the answers
but try asking my bird about it
it still remains in its chosen
field of
dignified silence.
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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