Let Birds Fly Free
Canary in a silver cage
Many hours of pleasure for me,
See... it's only stuffed
poem by Ken e Hall
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Gloomy
Gloomy
The saddest sight
A bar closed
Four in the morning
When I just want another
Drink
Before going home
To an empty flat
And a stuffed canary
In a dusty cage.
The consolation is
If I walk slowly
The Chinese grocer
Will be open
And he has got cold
Beer in his fridge.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Canary Yellow Canoe
In my canary yellow canoe - my yellow canoe
I want to go tripping in my canary yellow canoe
The eastmain, coppermine, back river too
In my canary yellow canoe
In my canary yellow canoe - yellow canoe
I want to run rivers in my canary yellow canoe
The desmoines river, rupert river, george river too
In my canary yellow canoe
In my canary yellow canoe - mellow yellow canoe
I want to go tripping in my canary yellow canoe
Chebugema, peace river, resolute too
In my canary yellow canoe
In my canary yellow canoe - my elephant too
I want to go tripping in my canary yellow canoe
Churchill, yellowknife, ross river too
In my canary yellow canoe
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silver And Gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Ev'ryone wishes for silver and gold
How do you measure its worth?
Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Mean so much more when I see
Silver and gold decorations
On ev'ry Christmas tree.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Wise men brought gifts to the mange I'm told
Mary was humble to see
Shepherds and kings there on bended knees
It's silver and gold, silver and gold
Feeling the world with their lives
Silver and gold how they shimmer on ev'ry Christmas night
On ev'ry Christmas night
Silver, silver and gold
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silver & Gold
Words and Music by Johnny Marks.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Ev'ryone wishes for silver and gold
How do you measure its worth?
Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Mean so much more when I see
Silver and gold decorations
On ev'ry Christmas tree.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Wise men brought gifts to the mange I'm told
Mary was humble to see
Shepherds and kings there on bended knees
It's silver and gold, silver and gold
Feeling the world with their lives
Silver and gold how they shimmer on ev'ry Christmas night
On ev'ry Christmas night
Silver, silver and gold
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where's The Silver?
Colors, colors everywhere
Colors all around
Reds and purples and blues are there
But silver can't be found
I look around, and now I've found some yellows and some greens
I look until my eyes are sore, but silver can't be seen
I look unto the vibrant clouds, but there's no silver lining
Where is all the silver that the miners should be mining?
There are no silver bells a'ringing
The silver songbirds are not singing
The orange sun hangs in the air, but I can't find silver anywhere
I look for hours, look for days, look for silver anyplace
But there always seems to be another color in it's place
I've given up this useless search
There is no silver left to find
I dropp my head and start to cry
When out of my pocket falls a silver dime
poem by Tyler Mason
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Canary In A Coalmine
First to fall over when the atmosphere is less than perfect
Your sensibilities are shaken by the slightest defect
You live you life like a canary in a coalmine
You get so dizzy even walking in a straight line
You say you want to spend the winter in firenza
Youre so afraid to catch a dose of influenza
You live your life like a canary in a coalmine
You get so dizzy even walking in a straight line
Canary in a coalmine
Now if I tell you that you suffer from delusions
You pay your analyst to reach the same conclusions
You live your life like a canary in a coalmine
You get so dizzy even walking in a straight line
Canary in a coalmine
First to fall over when the atmosphere is less than perfect
Your sensibilities are shaken by the slightest defect
You live your life like a canary in a coalmine
You get so dizzy even walking in a straight line
Canary in a coalmine
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tiger in a Cage
I am a tiger in a cage
Pacing up and down
Trying hard to stem my rage
Growling with a scowl and frown
I am a tiger in a cage
Here by my honour bound
Doing my very best to gauge
Just when they will come ‘round
Although my weekly pay is nil
And my hours hard to manage
Because I am their friend I will
Remain the tiger in the cage
poem by Russel Tanner
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Silver
There are clouds that hang
silver-grey in the air,
before the winter sun
gives its first rays
of a drawling day.
Silver-grey the Monday starts
and while the day’s hours
pass much to slowly,
I am summoned to the old chief
with his silver-grey hair.
One of the women clerks
who wants to be boss,
wants to push a silver knife
into a colleges back.
I leave them alone to count their silver pounds
and wash my hands in the bathroom,
with a silver ray of water that squirts out of the tap.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Unknown Star
I was born of an unknown star, of a mother who did not know herself-
From the very beginning I was a canary that could not sing and who
Would fall to the ground every time I lifted my wings to fly-
Trapped inside a cage of my own delusions,
I was alone looking upward towards that clouded sky, searching for that unknown star,
Where by chance I could find a place where I would belong-
My mother wept a wide stream of tears
Not to be consoled from the deep pain that tore at her heart-
The day I lost myself to another world, she abandoned me as agony wrenched her soul-
A phantasmal canary lying still at the bottom of my cage-
Hiding behind a rainbow looking for rays of hope,
Trying to deafen the voices only I could hear,
Searching for that unknown star,
I would dance in the rain beneath the faint light of the moon at night
Seeking for myself, that person I could not find, however
All I could find was a shadow upon the wall-
A shadow upon the wall I hardly recognized as myself,
A reflection within a pond which was that stream of my mother’s tears-
Dancing in the rain trying to become somebody,
Somebody famous or a perhaps an angel or a saint,
Trapped inside a cage of my own apparition where dense cloud cover barred me from
That unknown star where I might feel at home-
Looking about me at hillsides I might have tried to climb-all I could see was my shadow.
A shadow upon a hillside or inside, a shadow upon the wall,
A vague reflection within a pool of tears- Seemingly eyes of a ghost staring into mine,
Reading the demonic thoughts that raced inside of my mind-
Born of an unknown star, I had never found a home and
Born of an unknown star, I had never found myself-
Searching inside and outside all I could ever see was
A dark shadow of a lost person with no destiny or direction-
That canary that could not sing or fly, or perhaps a being who
Tried to come to life dancing in the rain beneath the faint moonlight- I became
A shadow dancing beneath the light of that unknown star I could not reach-
Hoping someday I would save the souls of those who despair and expectantly
Someday I would become that canary, but lifting my wings to fly and bursting into song,
Joyfully watching the sunrise as the moon would vanish
Behind disappearing dark clouds of despair.
poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bird in a Cage
How much I feel for the poor things
Unable to fly or spread their wings,
Each day with the same view
Sad and lonely nothing to do.
To the bird the world is that room
Confined to the cage, that's his tomb.
For life without freedom is nothing at all
No matter whether you're big or small.
Longing to fly on the breeze
Soaring high over the trees
Seeing new places every day
Flying and twirling in glorious play.
Never knowing freedom of the bird that fly's
Sitting on his perch ‘till he dies.
How can a bird that's born for joy
Sit in a cage and sing, like a stuffed toy.
© Hazel 2012
poem by Hazel Connelly
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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
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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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A Canary, And Peanut Butter, And Jelly, Sandwitch.
I once ate a sandwich made of peanut-butter and jelly...
This sandwich, by someone, tasted quite rotten, and smelly.
Into my stomach, uneasily, it went down...
To my face, was sadly, put a frown.
I went to the hospital to have my stomach pumped, where I met a sailor...
Who obviously, had a bad tailor.
You might say, 'that this lad, was a seaman'...
But-for the Navy, he worked, and so-he was no, free man.
This seaman, could not swim...
You might say 'that he joined, on a whim'.
This non-swimming seaman, had a cat...
That was known by all, to eat mice, dogs, or even a bat.
One day this cat, ate a bat, that was owned by a witch...
This witch, got quite angry, at the cat that ate her bat, and
was acting like, a ticked off, bitch.
This witch, turned this cat, into a canary...
How frightening to this canary, this seemed as scary.
Now, this canary, bird...
Got eaten by another cat, and now, was nothing more,
than a rug stained, cat-splattered, turd.
poem by Michael Gale
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Book Of Parables - Bulbul's Song
BULBUL'S song, through night hours cold,
Rose to Allah's throne on high;
To reward her melody,
Giveth he a cage of gold.
Such a cage are limbs of men,--
Though at first she feels confin'd,
Yet when all she brings to mind,
Straight the spirit sings again.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Our lost weekend melting crayons!
Reflecting on the lost weekend from beyond the sand valley carousel of cape cod,
I dig the lost hours the thoughts, the gallivants, which melt in the purest crayon wax of our souls.
I dig the diamond lattice in crystallographic earth facets like a house of mirror
or some bleak bleeding laboratory blowing girls dresses up from their gooseflesh legs by compression air jets and floor tricks that reflect from my inner loupe grinding the light through roadside glass and mica rotating in minds eye on fun house dizzy and whimsically revolving exit funhouse wheels that spills us to our seat, and casts confetti colors around my eyesight like the inside of a rain drop.
I reconstruct these moments connected in the lotus of thought the flowering palm of wisdom
Each moment!
Each feeling!
Each idea!
Each painted cage...
Watching them shuffle by on lotus like; the peeling elephant painted, the open black panther cage, the straw stuffed lion cage, the monkey mini top all starving dirty like and I dig it all like ZaZa zen of a circus train splitting down the rail lines like moving pictures before my eyes speared to the reels in a fervent heat which redden my skin protecting me from the naked blue sun.
poem by Jerome Moore
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The Songs Of The Canadian Canary
got a friend and i named her
my canadian canary
she is caring
and sends me some gifts
perfume
for my body
fish oil for my heart
some haiku
for my day
some emails to remind me
some pictures
and paintings of spring,
and some winters too
and oh, the summer
and the worm
and the peony on her table
concrete friendship
from my canadian canary
and how can i not return
what she has given
she never asked me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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One Chance
We have one chance.
One chance to get everything right.
We have one chance, one chance.
And if we're lucky we might.
My friends, my habits, my family,
they mean so much to me.
I just don't think that it's right.
I've seen so many ships sail in,
just to head back out again and go off sinking.
I'm just a box in a cage. I'm just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box in a cage.
Didn't mean to laugh, didn't know I had.
Didn't know the better part of what you said
cuz in your head you are not home.
Didn't get the joke. Didn't mean to poke another,
just to save myself
from some something something or another one.
Well walk home.
I'm just a box in a cage. I'm just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box in a cage.
We have one chance,
one chance to get everything right.
My friends, my habits, my family,
they mean so much to me.
I just don't think that it's right.
I've seen so many ships sail in,
just to head back out again and go off sinking.
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Funeral Of An Animal
The funeral made me sink into an animal,
The room felt comfortable, more so than one’s mind.
I stare at the camera working my sleep
And sight became pleasure in the snivelling months.
You add a holy symbol to the deathly months and years,
A stuffed dog or cat betrays me further than this.
Alone and magnified by the sun of hard work,
Fibres in the organs of right stoop into oblivion.
After this cooking pleasure, the wine-cups are filled
To make the flames too wide for the animals.
poem by Naveed Akram
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