They're Plucking Feathers From Each Other's Struts
The only thing one can expect to come from quacks
Is something tossed from a mouth one should duck
Or stay stuck
Trying to absorb the nonsense thrown
They're plucking feathers from each other's struts
All over the place and in unsuspecting faces to see
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Value Of Ethics
If a duck quacks and waddles,
Wearing a top hat while quacking...
But without a single fact quacked,
How can this duck hide its back...
With beliefs like that.
If a duck quacks and waddles,
Wearing a top hat while quacking...
And yet,
Disguises as a zebra amongst elephants...
To have others guess,
While sipping on champagne with donkeys...
Can this be considered a mess?
Or does this reflect an acceptance?
Representing the value of ethics.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lame Duck
They can call it,
Roasted turkey.
Defeated Wizard of Gloss.
Stalemate.
Stagnated.
And a leadership incompetent,
As a lame duck.
But guess what?
Who is getting the work done?
And who is spending the time,
Trying to define concrete activities?
They can call it arrogance.
Or 'me' a rebel without a cause!
But guess what?
Who is getting the work done?
And who is spending the time,
Trying to define concrete activities?
Doing those things I said would be realities?
Lame duck or not...
But 'who',
Amongst you...
Believe,
I will allow...
A plucking done to my feathers?
Hmmm?
They can call it arrogance.
Or 'me' a rebel without a cause!
But 'who',
Amongst you...
Believe,
I will allow...
A plucking done to my feathers?
Let me 'waddle' through!
I've got work to get done 'and' do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it's probably a duck.
If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, looks like a duck, it must be a duck.
When I see a bird that walks like a duck and swims like a duck and quacks like a duck, I call that bird a duck.
quote by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, we have at least to consider the possibility that we have a small aquatic bird of the family anatidae on our hands.
quote by Douglas Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Duck at Haldon Ponds
At evening watches the duck
slow feeding the waterline.
Praises the duck. Such a fine
white miracle breasting the mayfly.
Green of her tail feathers,
space of her neck doubled in water
paddles off with my mind.
Ducks I have known.
Old duck mates of mine
inspecting the meeting of air and liquid.
Make no mistake, duck.
I´d like to eat you well cooked
one bell-battered Sunday in April.
And I´d wear your gorgeous feathers in my hat,
make a soup of the bones
and give your leftovers to the cat.
A Dignity
as the peacock
struts its fan of feathers
like a rainbow
in the barnyard
the hen keeps its
own home
protecting its chicks
around its feathers
from the invasion of
the rat
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Release From Static Crap
This may be a bit too hot for you!
Those who expect a less than spicy brew.
But the cook perfers to have you sweat!
Believing it's the heat,
That loosens up the neck!
And we all have seen a stiff neck unrelaxed!
Walking like a duck with a straight flat back!
What appreciation for life...
Does someone who is stuck up like that,
Have for reality?
When they act stuck up...
Like something is up their butt!
This may be a bit too hot for you!
Those who expect a less than spicy brew.
But the cook perfers to have you sweat!
Believing it's the heat,
That loosens up the neck!
And we all have seen a stiff neck unrelaxed!
Walking like a duck with a straight flat back!
Pretending they know 'all' when they are way off track!
These folks create tensions!
And today we need less...
People feeling tensed and prepared for attack!
Sit back and welcome something different on your journey!
Something different on your map that doesn't offer views that trap!
Especially when it's needed to release from static crap!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Expect Your ………….You!
Expect your friend to be not better than you;
Expect your neighbor to not forgive you;
Expect your country not to goad you;
Expect your siblings to but discourage you;
Expect your children to not care for you;
Expect your spouse to rather hinder you;
Expect your love to always forget you;
Expect your home sometimes to ignore you;
Expect your native place to not honor you;
Expect the world to disregard you;
Expect your enemy to well hate you;
Expect your Maker to much love you;
Expect your God to never forsake you;
Expect your Lord and God to never abandon you.
poem by John Celes
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(Encouragement Poem) A Change In The Tides
A ease of your suffering.
A tissue to try to dry your tears.
Some courage to overcome your fears.
Love is always near.
Even when it feels so far away.
The day will not be so easily forgotten.
No matter what the phase of the moon.
A fall and rise, as tides surmise.
With a loss comes a gain.
Freedom from pain.
With invisible ink another name has been written.
Time to make decision.
With a heart plucking all the feathers of an ugly duck.
Trying so hard to see the beauty not yet their.
What is underneath that you yet don't see?
A question of ones inner self indeed.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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A Ballad of Ducks
The railway rattled and roared and swung
With jolting and bumping trucks.
The sun, like a billiard red ball, hung
In the Western sky: and the tireless tongue
Of the wild-eyed man in the corner told
This terrible tale of the days of old,
And the party that ought to have kept the ducks.
"Well, it ain't all joy bein' on the land
With an overdraft that'd knock you flat;
And the rabbits have pretty well took command;
But the hardest thing for a man to stand
Is the feller who says 'Well I told you so!
You should ha' done this way, don't you know!' --
I could lay a bait for a man like that.
"The grasshoppers struck us in ninety-one
And what they leave -- well, it ain't de luxe.
But a growlin' fault-findin' son of a gun
Who'd lent some money to stock our run --
I said they'd eaten what grass we had --
Says he, 'Your management's very bad;
You had a right to have kept some ducks!'
"To have kept some ducks! And the place was white!
Wherever you went you had to tread
On grasshoppers guzzlin' day and night;
And then with a swoosh they rose in flight,
If you didn't look out for yourself they'd fly
Like bullets into your open eye
And knock it out of the back of your head.
"There isn't a turkey or goose or swan,
Or a duck that quacks, or a hen that clucks,
Can make a difference on a run
When a grasshopper plague has once begun;
'If you'd finance us,' I says, 'I'd buy
Ten thousand emus and have a try;
The job,' I says, 'is too big for ducks!
"'You must fetch a duck when you come to stay;
A great big duck -- a Muscovy toff --
Ready and fit,' I says, 'for the fray;
And if the grasshoppers come our way
You turn your duck into the lucerne patch,
And I'd be ready to make a match
That the grasshoppers eat his feathers off!"
"He came to visit us by and by,
And it just so happened one day in spring
A kind of cloud came over the sky --
A wall of grasshoppers nine miles high,
And nine miles thick, and nine hundred wide,
Flyin' in regiments, side by side,
And eatin' up every living thing.
"All day long, like a shower of rain,
You'd hear 'em smackin' against the wall,
Tap, tap, tap, on the window pane,
And they'd rise and jump at the house again
Till their crippled carcasses piled outside.
But what did it matter if thousands died --
A million wouldn't be missed at all.
"We were drinkin' grasshoppers -- so to speak --
Till we skimmed their carcasses off the spring;
And they fell so thick in the station creek
They choked the waterholes all the week.
There was scarcely room for a trout to rise,
And they'd only take artificial flies --
They got so sick of the real thing.
"An Arctic snowstorm was beat to rags
When the hoppers rose for their morning flight
With the flapping noise like a million flags:
And the kitchen chimney was stuffed with bags
For they'd fall right into the fire, and fry
Till the cook sat down and began to cry --
And never a duck or fowl in sight.
"We strolled across to the railroad track --
Under a cover beneath some trucks,
I sees a feather and hears a quack;
I stoops and I pulls the tarpaulin back --
Every duck in the place was there,
No good to them was the open air.
'Mister,' I says, 'There's your blanky ducks!'"
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Take Me to Duck Heaven
In that glistening azure pond
I had a favorite
A duck
I called
Tawnablu
A quacker kind of
Bird
Recognizable by the
Aquamarine
Feathers
Atop her bobbing head
She swam aloof from
The rest
And refused all bread
Crumbs
Thrown her way
Even the finest bits
Collected from week old
French bread
Leftovers from the
Bakery
Down the road
The one managed by a
Croatian
Kick boxer from the Bronx
The one that
Refused entry to
Shirtless
Skateboarding
Teens
But kindly gave me
All the crusty crumbs I
Could bag
For my
Duck feeding
Addiction
And I am not embarrassed
Not so macho
To say
I loved that duck
My Tawnablu
In ways I can never
Describe
But let me try
To put my affection
Into words
Just this once:
Tawnablu, my pretty Canard
Quacking so hard
I want to ride your back
Down a stream
Without end
Tawnablu, my epic Canard
Quacking so hard
Take me, wild beauty
All the way to
Duck Heaven
poem by Catman Cohen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Want A New Duck
Woh oh
I want a new duck
One that wont try to bite
One that wont chew a hole in my socks
One that wont quack all night
I want a new duck
One with big webbed feet
One that knows how to wash my car
And keep his room real neat
One that wont raid the ice box
One thatll stay in shape
One thats never gonna try to migrate or escape
Or Ill tie him up with duck tape
I want a new duck
A mallard I think
One that wont make a mess of my house
Or build a nest in the bathroom sink
I want a new duck
One that wont steal my beer
One that wont stick his bill in my mail
One that knows the duck stops here
One that wont drive me crazy waddling all around
One wholl teach me how to swim and help me not to drown
And show me how to get down
How to get down baby
Get it?
*****
*****
*** ****
****
*** ***
I want a new duck
Not a swan or a goose
Just a drake I can dress real cute
Think Im gonna name him bruce
I want a new duck
Not a quail or an owl
One that wont molt to much
One that wont smell too fowl
One that wont beg for breadcrumbs
Hangin around all day
Hed better mind his manners
Better do just what I say
Or hes gonna be duck patte, duck patte, yah, yah
*
*****
***** (*** ** **)
****
*******
(lots of quacking sounds)
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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These Are The Days
Motel sitting in the dark
Empty room like an empty heart
Love will start but they never stay
They don't look back as they drive away
Maybe I
Fix this broken head light
Feeling the cracks and pain arise
And maybe love will stop here tonite
And if she knocks on my door
i'll give her the key
Just one look in her eyes and i know i'll be
Everything that she sees in me
More than i ever thought i could be but
These are the days
When all that i can do is dream
But i don't wanna spend forever
living in the in between
I'm stuck here in a place without love
And i just can't let it stay this way
But for now i'm gonna have to face it
These are the days
Gotta use this lonely time
To change the picture in my frame of mind
Outside the window theres a sunny day
I wanna feel it on my face
You and I
Are out looking for the same thing
And these walls of wondering
Waiting for someone to share this feeling
And if she knocks on my door
i'll give her the key
Just one look in her eyes and i know i'll be
Everything that she sees in me
More than i ever thought i could be but
These are the days
When all that i can do is dream
But i don't wanna spend forever
living in the in between
I'm stuck here in a place without love
And i just can't let it stay this way
But for now i'm gonna have to face it
These are the days
These are the days between your hopes and fears
These are the moments that are still locked here
There still inside even if she will not hear
Like it or not this is what i got
Ohhh God
These are the days
When all that i can do is dream
But i don't wanna spend forever
living in the in between and
I'm stuck here in a place without love
And i just can't let it stay this way (yeah)
But for now i'm gonna have to face it cause
These are the days
These are the days
When all that i can do is dream
But i don't wanna spend forever
living in the in between
I'm stuck here in a place without love
And i just can't let it stay this way
But for now i'm gonna have to face it
These are the days
song performed by by O-Town
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Duck
Behold the duck.
It does not cluck.
A cluck it lacks.
It quacks.
It is specially fond
Of a puddle or pond.
When it dines or sups,
It bottoms ups.
poem by Ogden Nash
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I look like a duck. It's the way my mouth curls up, or my nose tilts up. I should have played Howard the Duck.
quote by Michelle Pfeiffer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ducks of Equality
Dark brown-black ducks
splish-splash and
pitter-patter on
gently rocking waves
of glee
When a light gray-white duck
tip-taps and
tip-toes
shyly shivering
'May I join? ' quacks he.
The dark brown-black ducks
easily accept
the light gray-white duck
as one of their own
and joyfully they swim and play
In chilly water
'til they're freezing to the bone
And I wonder:
Why can't America be
more like the
dark brown-black ducks
and the
light gray-white duck
floating on the waves
of acceptance and equality?
poem by Charlotte Riddle
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My shoes and my duck
My shoes and I are quite good friends you see
Often they have chats with me
They tell me things doesn’t matter when
Day or night
They ask me please to lace right
Tell me how to wear them right
I have many pair but only one do I love
They are blue and white
Just like the morning and its dove
That flies around with all their might
My shoes fight in my closet in the black of night
Over which one I will ware on my bike
But I can never forget my duck
To which I can always turn to trust
My friend that is always there
Telling me no lies
And awaiting my return home
From my eight hour chore
My duck can’t swim
my duck can’t quake
My duck just sinks
with a rock on his back
My duck can’t cry
my duck can’t sing
my duck just cant do anything
My ducks no duck and I know why
my duck is stuffed
my duck can’t fly...
I love my duck
Can’t you see why
So in the end
I wouldn’t trade my shoes for any red bull
Or my duck for any frog
Even though one might give me wings
Or one might make noise now and again
I love my blue shoes and my stuffed duck
P.S. the Saint helped me write parts of this, so I owe him a thank you, and just so you all know not all mine.
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Three times—we parted—Breath—and I
598
Three times—we parted—Breath—and I—
Three times—He would not go—
But strove to stir the lifeless Fan
The Waters—strove to stay.
Three Times—the Billows tossed me up—
Then caught me—like a Ball—
Then made Blue faces in my face—
And pushed away a sail
That crawled Leagues off—I liked to see—
For thinking—while I die—
How pleasant to behold a Thing
Where Human faces—be—
The Waves grew sleepy—Breath—did not—
The Winds—like Children—lulled—
Then Sunrise kissed my Chrysalis—
And I stood up—and lived—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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