Crazy baboon eats flamingos (Fable) ^^^^^^^^^^^
Flamingos survive in the caustic space of the volcanic lake./
Flamingos' beaks skim tiny algae from the water's surface./
They watch out for predators like jackals or eagles, to make /
Their mud-cone nest for holding the egg with their grace./
Flamingos have a behavior because they dance in the light/
Bowing, bending their necks, signaling with their wing, /
Running back and forth and then suddenly taking flight /
To wheel around the lake, seemingly searching for something./
Recalling the ancient Phoenix myth, that immortal bird /
Who was consumed by flames, then rose from the ashes./
With such a poor sense of taste and smell as I never heard /
With long neck and legs, faint pink feathers and yellow eyes. /
Pinkish-white with red wings and two black flight feathers/
Founded throughout Africa, as well as Iran, India and Spain/
Risking from predation by marabou storks and Egyptian vultures, /
Lions, leopards, cheetahs and jackals, risking again and again./
Swimming and flying, living in mangrove swamp or lagoon/
Feeding with diatoms, seeds, crustaceans and algae/
Recognizing their chicks by vocalizations under the moon/
Caribbean with crimson or vermilion, Chilean with pink so pale./
Greater flamingos, scarlet pink colored overall, all days /
Extremely gregarious and living always in huge colonies. /
Known as social birds for their community displays /
Including 'head-flagging', 'marching' and 'wing salutes'./
The Hamadryas baboon being the largest type of monkey/
Originate from Saudi Arabia and Yemen, he is a fine mild/
Preferring rocky desert, it seems born to be chunky /
Being a very intelligent primate endangered in the wild./
With a fluffy coat, his females have a brown haired whilst /
And he is their male, silvery on his back and shoulders /
With face and buttocks brightly colored and hairless /
Eating plants, meat, grass, insects, mammals and lizards/
Dominating up to ten females at a time, grooming and playing. /
Forming clans, clans forming bands, bands forming troops./
Flocking to the lake in hopes to grab a meal, and staying /
In summer seasons, flocking together, to see flamingos groups. /
Searching an individual, eventually standing out of the crowd /
Or living on the edge of flock, a colorful individualistic/
An outsider living by its own standards, maybe very proud/
Ignoring the hungry baboon, who's skill is no more artistic./
Nature being so unbelievably close to the moralistic world /
In which we humans dwell, with a lot of similarities/
Being an individual socially and sometimes becoming hurled /
Or being in a crowd and socially stronger in front of enemies./
The rest comes down to character, and as I said before /
A weaker character will certainly cease easily and soon/
Will be like the flamingo on the edge, who is more /
Likely to break for being ‘eaten’ by the Baboon./
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Related quotes
The Best Flamingos
the best flamingos
that best flap broken flap
these inside and doze outside
eaten near the lake by monkeys
smothered far the mall paparazzi
warm prance fills
and through the crook
that pink shrimp dip
of the bill
flamingos still
through their stance
aching prophecies
unto tech-pink stares
kids that can't care
pressed to glass
and carotene shrink
that the hit of the beak
makes feathers fill
with her color soft sting
bleed out greedy eyes
at a glance
poem by R.J. Bevans
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Flamingos Fly
Go for a ride
In the still of the night
And morning brings forth
All this wonderful delight
Couldnt have made it more plain
When I heard that soft refrain
And I heard you gently sigh
Wanna take you where flamingos fly, flamingos fly
Way over yonder in the clear blue sky
Thats where flamingos fly
Lie in the dark
With the sound of the nightingale
Listen for a lark
I will tell you a tale
Breeze is blowin, blowin outside
Wanna take that moonlight ride
When I hear you gently sigh
Wanna take you where flamingos fly, flamingos fly
Way over yonder in the clear blue sky
Thats where flamingos fly
Well were here and were waiting
For that morning light to shine
And Im looking at you looking at me looking right back at you
And Im anticipating
Sounds along the way
Looking at you looking at me looking right back at you, hey
Ill follow the road
That will take me, take me right back home
And carry that load
Where the deer and the provincial angels roam
Happiness touches, touches me now
I know where it came from and how
When I hear you gently sigh
Wanna take you where flamingos fly, flamingos fly
Way over yonder in the clear blue sky
Thats where flamingos fly, flamingos fly
Way over the rooftops of the houses
I heard it one time, I heard it one time in a lullaby
I heard it one time, I heard it one time in a lullaby
Somewhere, somewhere, somewhere way over the rooftops of the houses
Heard it one time in a lullaby
Heard it one time, heard it one time in a lullaby
(fade)
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pink Flamingos
1) so what if my house has wheels
Theres nothing that I have youd want to steal
I hear my exs voice in my kids dirty little mouth
If it wasnt for welfare Id never go out to see my
Chorus -
Pink flamingos
My pink flamingos
2) I like my life in this funky little town
I hope a tornado wont blow it all down
Sit so proud in my rusted out cadillac
But if it worked good Id never come back to see my
Chorus
3) the man from the bank come with a truck
To take my home away
They took my kids, my dog, my little goldfish
But as they rolled out I said Ill stay with my
Chorus
song performed by by Zuba
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She'd Love To Live In Africa
She'd love to live in Africa in the land of the Maasai
And with the tribal people dance under the moonlit sky
The rhythmic drummer beats his drum and the dancers rock and sway
She'd love to live in Africa twelve thousand miles away.
The hungry male lions cough and roar in the African night
And the sounds of galloping hooves and zebras whinnying in fright
And the elephants are trumpeting and the the wild hyaenas
scream
And to live in distant Africa has always been her dream.
She's never been to Africa but she can visualize
The fish eagles are circling o'er the lake she hear their cries
And a flock of beautiful flamingos of ten thousands birds or more
Are feeding in the shallows just in from the lake shore.
All documentaries on Africa she watches on T.V.
And she'd love to live in that great Land amongst the wild and free
But time is running out on her she now is sixty two
And her dream of life in Africa for her may not come true.
Her brain urge her to walk and jog but her legs will not obey
And she won't be going to Africa twelve thousand miles away
A long time paraplegic she sits in her wheel chair
And she dreams of distant Africa 'doesn't life seem so unfair'.
poem by Francis Duggan
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At the zoo
There are street hawkers
selling their wares
next to a wall build
of rocks and stone
on all sides of the entrance.
Carved wooden walking sticks
african faces in black wood,
grass brooms, pottery,
hats and t-shirts
and African drums
and paintings line the sidewalk.
Light pink flamingos
parade next to their dark brown pool
and walk among long palm trees
while they call to each other.
Some white swans
drift on a lake in the park
and catch something to eat
with dipping heads
from the dark water.
a Couple of elephant throw
red-brown sand
over themselves
and their pleated skin
looks like rough sandpaper
and at the back
there’s an old white farmstead
with a green roof
and some hay
for them to eat.
Some spotted Hyenas
swim in a stream
and their dark brown
dots stand out
against their light coats.
There’s some long walkways
going through gardens
that stretch into the distance..
Just the head and back
of a lonely Hippopotamus
rises from a dark brown pool
and it drifts with its nose
under the water
in the direction
of some other Hippopotamuses.
Some bridges run
over the small stream
of the Apies river
which splash over rocks.
a Blue crane
combs its blue-grey coat
next to a striped Kudu cow
that grazes on the green grass
with the Kudu bull watching
the visitors.
a Big brown bear
walks up a rock slope
and splashes in cold pool.
Some Impalas are gathering
on a rocky slope
and a narrow path
stretches up the wooded hill.
A Tiger lies sleeping
under a tree
and two black-backed jackals
stand grinning next to each other.
There are yellow-gold lions
that hides in the long green grass
and a slim female
with two cubs
steps out and watches
and the big male
comes out with a twisting tail
and roars menacing at the crowd
while one of the keepers
are giving them meat.
There’s a great view of the buildings
of Pretoria from the top
of the hill
and some high rises
and towers jump up
into the sky.
I take a cable car
for the long way down
and see the Union buildings
far in the distance
and miniature animals
flash by on the bottom.
A Leopard growls
when I leave the cable car
and I hear the calls
of some black Chacma Baboons.
Some African Buffalo
stand grazing like cattle
and a Rhino
lies stretched out
on the grass.
Some of the gamekeepers
are feeding a giraffe
and it stretches its neck
over a high wall
and time catches me
and something of the animals
stays with me
when I walk back to the car.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Half a pin point
The power of the planet
astounds me
from Niagara's cascade
to me,
half a pinpoint,
watching,
as water falls
insignificantly
small..
In my minds eye
I see Pink Flamingos,
picking their way
in salt lakes,
searching out
the blue-green algae.
Bubbles of fish breath
rise in my imaginary pool
deep in the tropics.
The colours of the planet
are beautiful and
soothe me.
Humbled, I am dazzled
by it all.
Golden sunlight floods
the land, drifting
through tall trees,
past odd shaped clouds
to earth's surface.
Above the universe
is sailing by
magnificently-
while, left over from
primeval swamps,
man bickers over
who owns what,
and tries to find odd socks.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Pretty Pink Rose
Shes just been to russia and theyre dying their faces
Theyre dying over there
A pretty pink rose
That rnr lady takes a space-ship ride shes out of this world
A pretty pink rose
And were living for you my love, were living for you
And were dying for you my love
Pretty pink rose
She tore down paris on the tall of thom paine
But the left wings broken the right insane
A pretty pink rose
Have a nice day, its a killer, turn a cheek
Its a christian code
A pretty pink rose
And were living for you my love, were living for you
And were dying for you my love
Pretty pink rose
Shes the poor mans gold shes the anarchist crucible
Flying in the face of the despot cannible
Shes a pretty pink rose
Never let it rain, never let it rain on the heart of the pretty pink rose
Pretty pink rose
And were living for you my love, were living for you
And were dying for you my love, pretty pink rose
Get me thru the pain, thru the pain of the thorn on the pretty pink rose
Never let it rain, never rain never rain, the pretty pink rose
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart, of the pretty pink rose
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart, of the pretty pink rose
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart,, of the pretty pink rose
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yellow Billed Spoonbill
By the lake shore in the shallows where the waters are still
He walks in water to his knees the white bird with yellow legs and long yellow spoon like bill
With his bill in the water as he walk moving from side to side
His prey water insects, crustaceans and tiny fish in the water weed hide.
He and his partner build their nest on a high branch of a tree
On her nest of sticks she lays four white eggs though sometimes two or three
They both take care of their young a bird devoted to fatherhood as well as to his mate
Food from their stomachs to their nestlings they do regurgitate.
On river rapids never seen the still waters they need
Birds of the inland lakes and dams in the shallows they feed
Of humans 'twould be fair to say they have a healthy fear
To a human standing on the shore they never venture near.
Yellow billed or yellow legged spoonbill are names they are known by
On the lake I see one yesterday he did seem rather shy
With his long yellow bill moving from side to side in the shallows he shuffled up and down
The shiest of the water birds in the big park by the Town.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Suicidal
Your underpants?
Can you put them behind
beneath the weight of memories?
Flamingos.
They are in flight
after the birth pangs.
Trapped-
the light flutters
at watermark for a name.
Yet to be born,
a stone-blind moon
wants the partisan blue.
One will not forget a headless
body of an ariel.
The tempest was at the door.
poem by Satish Verma
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I Went For A Walk
I went for a walk on the lake-side path today
And so disappointed am I for to say
That the lake is covered in blue green algae from end to end
To Nature few humans have been a good friend.
Fertilizer spread by farmers on their crops and washed into creek and drain
In thundery weather by heavy showers of rain
Cause blue green algae on the still waters to grow
Though others with more knowledge of Natural Science than I claim they know
That ducks help to spread blue green algae on a lake
Though the ducks side on this one I surely must take
For I do find that rather hard to believe
And for the pollution of Nature a reason to grieve.
For the health of our Earth Mother too few seem to care
Pollution of land and of water and air
And due to habitat destruction wildlife becoming rare
And too few 'twould seem are environmentally aware.
I went for a walk on the path by the lake
And I felt disappointed for our Earth Mother's sake
To see the lake covered in blue green algae from end to end
To Nature few humans have been a good friend.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The bird of paradise
The King of Saxony bird of paradise is a male
Black and yellow with brown iris, aqua-green mouth, grey legs,
With two enamel-blue brow-plumes. It seems to be so frail
Guarding its grey- brown female with chicks emerging from eggs
This wonderful bird is named in honor of King Albert.
A German king, devoted to military affair
Re-building Saint Afra School in Meissen like an expert
Proclaiming constitutional his monarchical chair.
He was a great Knight of the Order of the Golden Fleece
And a Grand Cross of the Order of the Tower and Sword
Arbitrating between the claimants of Lippe for peace
He was a very wise king constantly moving forward.
Birds of paradise or Pteridophora alberti
In montane forests of New Guinea guard and stay
Their diet consists of fruits, arthropods and sweet berries
And they're hunted by natives for ceremonial play.
Bird of paradise, Lophorina superba, is small
The male has iridescent green crown and erectile cape
Preparing its '' dance floor'', it attracts females with a call
Hopping in frantic circles having elliptical shape.
The competition amongst males for mates is very fierce
Because they do not have as many females as they need
It's like a bizarre courtship when their songs the silence pierce
Curious females approach but they're not prepared to cede.
Magnificent bird of paradise has complex plumage
The polygamous male owns incandescent yellow wings
Blue-green feathers and the yellow mantle for its image,
Its olive-brown female laying two creamy yellow eggs.
Wilson's bird of paradise male is very red and black
Its head is naked blue with black double cross pattern on it.
With green mouth, blue feet and the yellow mantle on its neck,
It has a brownish female and eats small pieces of fruit.
So red iris has the Twelve-wired bird of paradise male.
It has yellow plumes and twelve blackish wire-like filaments,
While Blue Birds have wire-like feathers emerging from end- tail
Being sexually dimorphic they live on some islands.
Lesser bird of paradise male has an emerald throat,
Those polygamous birds perform courtship displays in leks.
Even to their females themselves do not need to devote
In their nests, their females usually lay two pinkish eggs.
Carolus Linnaeus was named legless paradise bird
Skin being prepared without feet for Europe by natives;
People thought birds were visitors from Heaven but 'Surprise! '
They heard that birds can touch the earth and they were so naive
MCN: CE65W-7U2JW-EGQJA
© copyright Fri Feb 04 00: 31: 58 UTC 2011 - All Rights Reserved
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Cosmos
So much rain fell
that the grass
was like a swamp
and next to the road
suddenly wildflowers bloomed
in colours of white, pink
and crimson-brown.
On long green stems
they grew together
the petals almost
in the shape
of a fortget-me-not
but much more spread
at the front edge.
Some kids might take them
to play the I love you game,
but do so in vain.
The smell of cosmos
hangs soft in the air
and there were patches
of colour everywhere.
I picked some with regret
to see the petals fold over
to hide their heads
of yellow and black specks.
Far to brittle to the touch,
still their beauty was too much
and I thought God,
You made nature really great.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Pink Coat
The pink coat
She put on when it was cold
The pink coat
That was hung up when she was home
The pink coat
That kept her warm
The pink coat
That witnessed her first cut
The pink coat
She wore when she was crying
The pink coat
That knew her plans
The pink coat
That saw what happened
The pink coat
She had on when she walked in front of that truck
The pink coat
That witnessed it all
The pink coat
Had no one to keep warm, now
The pink coat
That wanted to tell everyone the truth about her
Just;
The pink coat
poem by Alyssa Ray
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The Lady in Pink
Me thinks
Pink is her favorite color
In which, she is
So elegantly dressed.
She is the grand dame, in
Pink Sweater,
Pink skirt,
Pink coat,
Pink hose,
Pale shoes
And pink pearls clipped in her
Perfectly coifed
Champagne colored hair
And diamonds in her smile.
poem by Dorothy Holmes
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Pink
Feather light wings that float softly through the air tickled by specks of dust.
Bright white light inflamed with pink and laced with gold.
Raising flowers, changing seasons,
singing in high pitched voices that only children can hear.
Little tiny people in little tiny clothes.
Pink, White and Baby Blue,
Only innocent eyes can see.
Pink nail varnish, Pink lipstick, Pink eye shadow, Pink blusher, Pink clothes that reveal too much Pink skin.
Standing on street corners innocent eyes forgotten.
Long ago were the days when fairies were believed in.
Lost memories and lost dreams,
innocence killed, for a life of nightmares and love ripped at the seams.
poem by Laura Cummings
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Spanish Football
Spanish dance,
Spanish Football,
And like the muse of your love in the land of the Flamingos! !
But, the legs won the game;
Oh yes, winning the World Cup and the European Cup.
Life is like one big road with lots of signs!
So, don not complicate your mind when you drive along;
For, i've got a job to do as well.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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When Days Get Long
I
When summer days get extremely long
the sky becomes a much deeper hue,
a myriad of birds fill the cobalt blue,
constantly singing their gorgeous song
it is as if everything do belong
to the coming spring, are singing true
like some beautiful birds and insects do,
while colourful swarming in their great throng
over the gentle meadow and the valley
filling the tranquil grey evening sky
softly singing a sweet kind of medley
while in jubilance they still do fly
over fields of hay and fields of barley,
sunny day after sunny day pass by.
II
Sunny day after sunny day pass by
with almost a kind of smothering heat
the fields, the open veldt and dirt road lie
far to hot to tread with just bare feet.
Everything shimmers, the poplars that rears
like huge fingers pointing to the sun,
massive broad oak trees of many years
and grass and flowers where life has just begun
glitters in a new emerald green sheen,
the wind rustles things touching one by one
as if finding things where there had not been,
between huge black boulders rocks and stone
the sun blazes on every day the same,
I see the sun making wings of hot flame.
III
I see the sun making wings of hot flame
on the few white clouds in dazzling colours
and in the west there are some small wild game
drinking water while the evening hours
brings the white and blue stars out dazzling clear
with night predators in the pitch black sky
and some more wild game are drawing near,
I hear the hyenas laughing, wild dogs cry,
the growls of lions, the howling of jackals,
I get the smells of the earth and the bush,
I hear some leopards growling, their calls
that are where they are lying in ambush,
at night the predators are hunting prey,
making a living in the dying day.
IV
Making a living in the dying day
swarms of birds fly calling with flapping wings
poplars, cedars and many trees do sway
while the twilight is grey, full of life, brings
as if by some magic, all at play
flying leaves, bats insects and flying things
with a few that lonesome away stray,
most are flying to nests in trees that swings
and eventually places of rest receives
the many small things that are fluttering,
the wind settles among the moving leaves,
the numerous evening birds start to sing
until the full moon shines its silver rays,
when night fades slowly as on other days.
V
When night fades slowly as on other days,
man is still bound by nature and destiny
to the world in which he works and plays
as it probably will be to eternity.
The yellow sun, the cobalt blue heaven
is like it has been from its very birth
with its joyous bright splendour even
like any other day upon this earth
but a time will come when man will be free
from all death and all kinds of destruction
from heartache, the sorrows that he see
with a new amazing introduction
to a place that’s holy, pure and bright;
now suddenly it is silver twilight.
VI
Now suddenly it is silver twilight
and the sheer darkness of night flees away
before the coming new breaking day
with the blazing sheer redness of sunlight
constantly reflecting against the bright
unclouded sky open in its solid grey
with the red blossoming as if its to stay
and in the veldt guinea fowl flees in fright
while a small jackal laughs out its delight
and the few milling dark clouds do stray
before a strong wind as if in spite
and through bushes and grass rocking it plays
churning up eddies before going out of sight
while the hot sun rises with its golden rays.
VII
While the hot sun rises with its golden rays,
you come from a country where rivers meander
where the rain sieves down for many days
where some beautiful wild birds do wander
in lush overgrown tranquil water-meadows,
far away from the busy big city,
filled with thick green living hedgerows
where many bright wild flowers are pretty
but I still do wonder what you will see
in a land where vicious savage beasts
have no civility and do roam free
where the natives have very weird feasts,
where the flaming sun does spare no one,
when summer days get extremely long.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Bird's Wings
The bird's wing levels for the summation,
It dived once more but now it flies straight;
This evening is its dinner and lunch,
Killing itself and its kids, forming a nest.
The wings of an animal work for the better,
Injured ones last not, they do not last at all
For the flight of a bird is accompanied by all.
Mighty winds sever the flight so wild and free,
In order to pack the several costumes of the breeze.
Freedom comes from everything and all of our guns
Are shooting the air like a bird's flight and its freedom.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Skimmers
As a boy he used to toss
flat rocks on the water
of the farm dam or nearby lake
watching them skim
over the surface
only touching here and there
and there was some magic
in the leaping
almost right across the water surface.
The wind whirls up tiny whirlwinds
running out before him on the beach,
a lonely boy is tossing shells into the air
which are blown back in a curling flight,
sand hits legs, arms and the body
stinging like sandpaper,
in the distance skimmers are eating from shells
near to green-blue hued pools,
with some flying low over the sea
and he flings his thoughts back to many years,
thinking again and again
about a world that has changed with time
how he changed from an innocent believing child
to the mature successful man
but his life is empty and he is here to find something.
[Reference: Skimmers by Ted Walker.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Soul Dies
Sky overcast, moon was sad.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
Who killed the bird in morning rain?
Ashes were sent to the lake.
A hidden slaughterman did not die.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
The good old name now spells the doom.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
I will call you in pitch-dark night.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
Ascending gods have ruined my life.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
A child was stolen from a mother’s bed.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
poem by Satish Verma
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