En.Citatepedia^®.ro

We Are Doves

'Try the other one! '

I did and I can't fit!

'Well...
'Pick another one! '

You pick it..
Why are we bothering with this?

'They want us pigeoned holed.
And it seems they have forgotten who we are! '

Then why are we here?
Wasting all this time to see if things can work out?
We are Doves!
Let 'them' run after 'nuts'.
They will never recognize
We do not chase after popcorn!
We are Doves...
And pigeoned holed,
We can not be!
Wasn't that understood?
Before they claimed us as property?

We are Doves!
Have you too forgotten?

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Two Sisters Whose Deaths Were Together

IN woods remote, hid in the mountain hollows,
Doves there are that have a gentler beauty,
Doves that are marked as by a poet's image,
And hence are called Doves of the Wounded Heart.

And such ye were, and we could never learn the
Call that would bring you to our breasts, our hands!
And such ye were, and ye were aliens in our
Barnyard-world Doves of the Wounded Heart!

You who were proud no storm had ever turned your
Flight, and you who were her cherished one
May ye have found, hid in your mountain hollows,
Your wood remote, Doves of the Wounded Heart!

poem by Padraic Colum
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041710i Feathered Stowaways

we have our eyes following the rescue boat
circling the mother ship then pick up by a lift
we went back to where we are doing our task
some sit around waiting for things to happened
some prepare food for three thousands aboard
some keep us cruising, safe, and comfortably afloat

i notice doves flying around the hangar bay
five of them, they fly out then come to play
they love going against the draft, then dive in
they might have food stash somewhere overhead
i’ve seen doves on the other ships do the same
when we get in port, fly out and never be seen

poem by Manonton Dalan
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The Doves And The Tree

what i first see are the doves hovering on the tree
they are many and the tree looks as though its leaves are plenty

for one thing
the doves when they hover
they hover together
as a flock
and when they leave
they also leave together
as a flock
and the tree can do nothing about it

and thus it happens
the doves all left at the same time leaving the tree to the truth
of its existence

it has no leaves at all this summer
when hot is really hot in here
when all the doves fly away together

the tree
looks like the thin, worn fingers of a very old man
opening, stretching to the skies
praying for mercies

and what about it God?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Gardener LV: It Was Mid-Day

It was mid-day when you went
away .
The sun was strong in the sky.
I had done my work and sat alone
on my balcony when you went away.
Fitful gusts came winnowing
through the smells of may distant
fields.
The doves cooed tireless in the shade,
and a bee strayed in my room hum-
ming the news of many distant fields.
The village slept in the noonday
heat. The road lay deserted.
In sudden fits the rustling of the
leaves rose and died.
I gazed at the sky and wove in the
blue the letters of a name I had known,
while the village slept in the noonday
heat.
I had forgotten to braid my hair.
The languid breeze played with it upon
my cheek.
The river ran unruffled under the
shady bank.
The lazy white clouds did not move.
I had forgotten to braid my hair.
It was mid-day when you went
away.
The dust of the road was hot and
the fields panting.
The doves cooed among the dense
leaves.
I was alone in my balcony when you
went away.

poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Patience, Patience

the child with a black coat
on this cold day
sits there beside a brick
church of spanish
architecture

the yard is quiet except
for the sound of the flapping
of doves feedind on some
rice grains

the boy has a black hair
and his feet are stained with
mud his fingers dirty with
some sticky sauce

he spreads the rice grains
from his palm to the
muddy grounds

the doves hover and land
on the spot where the grains
are freely spread

he sits with them
surrounded

the doves are watching him
and he watches carefully each
dove that eyes on his grains

he likes to snatch just one
to bring home to mother

the doves are too careful
it is just the rice grains nothing more

eye to eye
both wait for what shall happen next

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Midnight Doves

Perfect for someone, isn't possible.
It's like another one of those impossible dreams.
When you realize how much friction is needed to make a relationship work. When you realize that you need be different, and possibly total opposites for a relationship to last.
Lust comes so fast.
Heartbreak hurts so bad.
Broken lovers, are the midnight doves.
Who had to much in common, one left cause he got so bored.
With wings so he took flight
He soared
He found another.
All they time they got into their fights
All the time they made love to make things right.
With their differences is what made them strong as one.
Whole and complete.
These were the doves who were never meant be, but still some how they are just because of who they are.

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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A Group In Prayer

today the five of us
inside this house
are holding doves
in a little while after
a short prayer
we shall release our doves
free in the air
now, our neighbors will
see what we have
inside our hearts

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Doves

Doves

When true love
With affections plough;
And feelings surge
For the hearts to merge,

The hearts witnessing,
Are with emotions a-flowing—
Glory be to the Loves,
And blessed be the Doves.

poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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Interior

THE little moths are creeping
Across the cottage pane;
On the floor the chickens gather,
And they make talk and complain.

And she sits by the fire
Who has reared so many men;
Her voice is low like the chickens'
With the things she says again:

'The sons that come back do be restless,
They search for the thing to say;
Then they take thought like the swallows,
And the morrow brings them away.

In the old, old days upon Innish,
The fields were lucky and bright,
And if you lay down you'd be covered
By the grass of one soft night.

And doves flew with every burial
That went to Innishore
Two white doves with the coffened,
But the doves fly no more.'

She speaks and the chickens gather,
And they make talk and complain,
While the little moths are creeping
Across the cottage pane.

poem by Padraic Colum
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Once a man went into a forest to sell his cows
There was no one to buy except a pair of doves,
The doves asked the man: ' How much? '
Their question gave him an emotional touch.
He said that he would not sell the cows' hoofs.

quote by by MBJ Pancras
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I Haven't Forgotten

I haven't forgotten when I meet you first!
I haven't forgotten when I greet you last!
I haven't forgotten your pretty face!
I haven't forgotten your smile and grace!

I haven't forgotten how we started chatting!
I haven't forgotten when we started dating!
I haven't forgotten our last walk together!
I haven't forgotten how I became a loser!

I haven't forgotten how it became too late!
I haven't forgotten when I understood fate!
I haven't forgotten that summer's northwester!
I haven't forgotten and won't forget ever!

poem by Asif Andalib
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Blue Dove

The Blue Dove Legend.
says it's born every hundred years,
Blue Doves are true,
and brings love.

They say if the Blue Dove,
lands on your porch, or
near you, only good fortune,
for ever you'll have

Love always will be,
deep in your heart, so touching,
you with other down trodden
people, for you to reach.

An open heart to others,
a gift you will have.

Blue Doves are true
so if you see one,
do not flee.

Blue Doves are hatched,
in a nest of two
one white, one blue,
mother cuddles
with ever loving care,
she knows this little thing,
is so special and true.

The day that Blue Dove flees the nest,
and flys into the unknown
some lucky soul their fortune,
will change.

Blue Doves may be just,
a legend, but if you,
do see one, hope it comes,
your way, to bring hope,
love, life and better days.

Blue dove, does bring,
true love, and many happy
days, so watch out, look,
search the skys, Blue
Dove may be coming,
your way.

wrote 1-17-07

poem by Jim Foulk
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When Doves Cry

Dig if u will the picture
Of u and I engaged in a kiss
The sweat of your body covers me
Can u my darling
Can u picture this?
Dream if u can a courtyard
An ocean of violets in bloom
Animals strike curious poses
They feel the heat
The heat between me and u

How can u just leave me standing?
Alone in a world that's so cold? (So cold)
Maybe I'm just 2 demanding
Maybe I'm just like my father 2 bold
Maybe you're just like my mother
She's never satisfied (She's never satisfied)
Why do we scream at each other
This is what it sounds like
When doves cry

Touch if u will my stomach
Feel how it trembles inside
You've got the butterflies all tied up
Don't make me chase u
Even doves have pride

How can u just leave me standing?
Alone in a world so cold? (World so cold)
Maybe I'm just 2 demanding
Maybe I'm just like my father 2 bold
Maybe you're just like my mother
She's never satisfied (She's never satisfied)
Why do we scream at each other
This is what it sounds like
When doves cry

How can u just leave me standing?
Alone in a world that's so cold? (A world that's so cold)
Maybe I'm just 2 demanding (Maybe

song performed by by Prince from Purple Rain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There’s An Inaccessibility

There’s an inaccessibility
in the steel-blue sky,
a chilly winter cold that comes without modesty
and I see doves turning in their gambolling flight

in a swarm gathering around me
and they seem hungry
when I spread crumbs of bread from a paper-bag
but in this winter all heat is missing

while the wind is pulling on tree branches,
making a dust cloud of leaves and sand,
blowing things higher than the roofs of the houses,
causing the blue to disappear.

Still I can stare in wonder,
where doves gather dog tame around me.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Very Deep In The Dark Moonlit Night

Very deep in the dark moonlit night
I still hear the sound of doves
where the whole night they coo, whisper and laugh;
I see the yellow moon glowing as a sickle
where it hangs high above the horizon,
there are thunderbolts lashing thundering,
in blinding flashes of blue-white light
with the doves scattering scared over the roof
when the storm walks nearer through the tree branches.

poem by Gert Strydom
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When Doves Cry

Dig if you will the picture
Of you and I engaged in a kiss
The sweat of your body covers me
Can you my darling
Can you picture this?

Dream if you can a courtyard
An ocean of violets in bloom
Animals strike curious poses
They feel the heat
The heat between me and you

How can you just leave me standing?
Alone in a world that's so cold? (So cold)
Maybe I'm just too demanding
Maybe I'm just like my father too bold
Maybe you're just like my mother
She's never satisfied (She's never satisfied)
Why do we scream at each other
This is what it sounds like
When doves cry

Touch if you will my stomach
Feel how it trembles inside
You've got the butterflies all tied up
Don't make me chase you
Even doves have pride

How can you just leave me standing?
Alone in a world so cold? (World so cold)
Maybe I'm just too demanding (maybe maybe)
Maybe I'm just like my father too bold (too bold)
Maybe you're just like my mother
She's never satisfied (She's never satisfied)
Why do we scream at each other (why)
This is what it sounds like
When doves cry

ooh ooh ooh - baby

How can you just leave me standing?
Alone in a world that's so cold? (a world so cold)
Maybe I'm just too demanding
Maybe I'm just like my father too bold (you know

song performed by by Ginuwine from The Bachelor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Deliverance Of The Doves

Two doves in motion, exploring their options
in tune to life from their spire;
dictating wings expand with suggestion
in a tone of conviction,
thrumming like strings form a symphony in presto.
Pacificating symbols, two doves descend for societies wisdom,
their conciliatory manner delivering a message of hope
that no one but they can see.

Above, flies a thrush, a spirited songbird,
no significant symbol of society.
Its taupe upper plumage and spray spotted breast
presenting radical contrast to the image of the dove
and cultural proclivities.

Two doves now connect with the flight of the thrush,
appearance and origin, separate and different,
yet somantics and custom are unwelcome principals
as the trilogy shares common ground...habitation.
Exploring their options without bias nor barrier,
perhaps wondering when we will follow their lead.

Two doves and a thrush delivering one message
from their kingdom to ours,
in a tone of inclusion,
in tune to the chaos below them.
A potpourri of birds perched on a spire,
staring down...at the eye's upon theirs,
Pondering our existence with a brisance of puzzlement

poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
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I Send To You

I send to you the spring that is early this year,
the sun that is already turning hot,
every new flower
to tell you how much I miss you.

Maybe you will also be able to pick stars
that hangs shining like diamonds,
maybe you will be able to press them to your heart
when you become aware how much I am longing for you.

I send to you every morning full of hope,
the hope that this day may be exceptional
with grass-warblers, sparrows and doves walking up and down
and trust that you will read my love in all of these things,

that every day when you see the sun,
it will be my glowing messenger.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Pedro, Pablo and Little José

I have spent an hour
lying in the sun
on Joe Brickle's farm
waiting for Pedro and Pablo
to fetch Little José

with his sickle and scythe
to cut down the high grass
so Pedro and Pablo
can gun their mowers
over the cowlicks.

After Joe Brickle died
the grass on his farm
soared to the sky.
His goats ate it all
till his son flew home

and trucked all the goats
to the slaughterhouse.
At Sadie's Cafe in town
old friends of Joe declare
goats bring a good dollar.

I have not wasted my time
lying in the sun today.
I've been watching
two doves on the ground
walking in circles

waiting for a sparrow
to land and dance on
the rungs of the feeder
Joe Brickle hung
in his Dogwood.

The doves need the seed
the sparrow will scatter.
Joe Brickle named goats
after prophets in the Bible.
He might be happy to know

that I've named the doves
Pedro and Pablo
and the sparrow
now landing
is Little José.

poem by Donal Mahoney
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Outbreak of Peace

I awakened this morning...
So early I was shakened!
Did I hear someone say...
'There's been an outbreak of peace!
A recipe of peace is in all ovens baking? ! '
Did I hear this correctly?
So I went to the window to see!
And sure enough...
I saw Morning Doves!
Morning Doves at the base of a tree!
I opened the window,
And they chirped and moved on!
Leaving me with a 'song'...
To carry with me all day long!
Something perhaps I reflect,
And can be detected by others...
Who will take and pass it on!
I know something felt different...
Within me.
Yet in my heart it kept singing
Stronger until it longed
To belong.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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