Afternoon In The Vineyard
trimming grapes
only the click of the scissors
and the chirping of the birds.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Related quotes
Abstraction Fo The Word Chirp....
i hear birds chirping
early morning
on those trees
clouds arrive, light
spreads,
green becomes too green
in the fields of
life,
i hear birds chirping
sweet to my ear
i give it priority
abstract. delet morning
move out clouds from the picture
double click green fields
focus on life
delet birds
add volume to chirping
it is all chirping now
just chirping
chirping chirping
the essence of chirp.
i have abstracted it from
everything else.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Set them free..They will multiply..
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time,
colorful birds to colored birds,
chirping birds to singing birds,
flying birds to walking birds,
cunning birds to love birds,
Watching birds is just a lesson,
making mind to have a vision.
collect the twigs to make the nest,
one by one, they think the best,
choose the right tree,
just high and free,
Making the nest perfect,
without any single defect,
The birds toil together or alone,
all day long until it is done.
I bought two love birds,
that were kept in a cage.
Hung the cage under the balcony,
above the reach of dogs not felony.
chirping disturbed their sleep,
Nikko, the dog set them free.
Only two flew away,
but I have a few dozens now,
making their nests,
right in front of me, on the trees.
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Industrialization
an early morning treat
to the chirping sounds of the birds
the engines arrive in the form of the bus
the tractors and the caterpillars
the birds fly away carrying their songs
the chirping sounds fade
the buzz of the day is in the machine
paving, drilling, cementing, screaming.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Touch of Autumn
It is blowing, it is getting cold
Birds are chirping, birds are resting!
The long sunny day is gone
replaced by the sudden onset of night!
Leaves from trees, fruits like apples,
peaches, berries and grapes fall down.
My beans and squash seem ready
to sleep and abort the budding of flowers.
The green colours turn golden and
cover the living soil and ground.
September, October and November,
the golden long autumn months
of fallen leaves from windy heights.
___________
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Tippity Tap
Tap Tap, Click Click
On the train
Leeds To London
Click Click go the mice
Strange Tunes from phones
Is there no time
To kick back
To take time
To enjoy the ride
Worker drones drone on
Click Click
Ring Ring
Work appears to end
Beer & wine from the trolley
Relax time
Work time
Travel time is now
Other times
poem by Jason Palmer
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Nectar of the grapes
power of atom to click life
control explosion
quote by by S.D. Tiwari
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Countenance
Click, click, click, click, click
That’s what I hear, so, stick
Or should I make a move now; quick
Before the others could make me sick
Ponderous thoughts, beating heart
I should have quit right at the start
The adrenalin pushes me to part
With something, nothing, far apart
From Brooklyn, London, Tokyo, Paris
Faceless names which mean to harass
Me now hanging on the crevice
Oh where is now the stupid novice?
Oh well the time is passing by
No longer do I need to cry
It’s just a game so ask me why
Do I bother to groan and sigh?
poem by John B Hayes
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Up On The Housetop
(traditional - arranged by reba mcentire)
Up on the housetop reindeer pause
Out jumps good old santa claus
Down through the chimney with lots of toys
All for the little ones, christmas joys
Ho, ho ho! who wouldnt go? ho, ho ho! who wouldnt go?
Up on the housetop, click, click, click
Down through the chimney with old saint nick
First comes the stocking of little nell
Oh, dear santa fill it well
Give her a dolly that laughs and cries
One that will open and shut her eyes
Ho, ho, ho! who wouldnt go? ho, ho, ho! who wouldnt go?
Up on the housetop, click, click, click
Down through the chimney with old saint nick
Next comes the stocking of little will
Oh, just see what a glorious fill
Here is a hammer and lots of tacks
Also a ball and a whip that cracks
Ho, ho ho! who wouldnt go? ho, ho, ho! who wouldnt go?
Up on the housetop, click, click, click
Down through the chimney with old saint nick
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Up On The Housetop
Album: Wrangler Cowboy Christmas
(B.R. Hanby)
Up on the housetop reindeer pause
Out jumps good old Santa Claus
Down thru the chimney with lots of toys
All for the little ones Christmas joys
Chorus
Ho, ho, ho!
Who wouldn't go!
Ho, ho, ho!
Who wouldn't go!
Up on the housetop
Click, click, click
Down thru the chimney with
Good Saint Nick
--- Instrumental ---
First comes the stocking of little Nell
Oh, dear Santa, fill it well
Give her a dolly that laughs and cries
One that will open and shut her eyes
Chorus
Ho, ho, ho!
Who wouldn't go!
Ho, ho, ho!
Who wouldn't go!
Up on the housetop
Click, click, click
Down thru the chimney with
Good Saint Nick
Up on the housetop
Click, click, click
Down thru the chimney with
Good Saint Nick...
song performed by by Gary Allan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I wait for the next opportunity to have something to do with food. If I get rested, my mind just starts creating new dishes - click, click, click.
quote by Paul Prudhomme
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Days I Let Slip Away
My days seem to be slipping away from me
And no matter how much money
I have I will never get those days back
That I just let drift away
My time is being wasted
It's like buying dollar toys
That you only play with once
And forget about them
And it seems like steal
Because there only a dollar
And you want something
To occupy your time
I hear the birds chirping outside my window
And I look at the clock and it goes click
Like the remote in my hand
I sit on the couch and watch
Other people live there lives
While I am just letting my days slip away
Sitting here watching the television
My television paints a picture of life
That I want, but isn't real
Life is so much better on the television
Tweet
He fell from the mango tree nearby
In the nest where three others lay
After the rain, their chirping cry
I heard in the morning at break of day.
A few days old they must have been
Eyes still shut, and such tiny wings
Scarcely with feathers on their skin
But they had a strong will to go on living!
I took the nest and kept it inside
Quite safe in a handy fruit basket
From my cats, the birds I tried to hide
As they heard the noisy chirping racket.
Two of the chicks failed to survive
The rains made them wet in the night
But the other two I had kept alive
Named him 'Tweet' and his brother 'Knight'.
We fed them bread crumbs in a toothpick
The chicks ate the meals, all was alright
But Knight was a bully and not so meek
Renamed him 'Joker' - oh what a sight.
Joker would pound on his brother Tweet
So I had to keep them apart
Everyday their chirping would greet
Good morning to me with all their heart.
Tweet was the only one that remained
For birds do get colds and die
He taught me lessons I had gained
Animals care, without tears they cry.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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The Bight
At low tide like this how sheer the water is.
White, crumbling ribs of marl protrude and glare
and the boats are dry, the pilings dry as matches.
Absorbing, rather than being absorbed,
the water in the bight doesn't wet anything,
the color of the gas flame turned as low as possible.
One can smell it turning to gas; if one were Baudelaire
one could probably hear it turning to marimba music.
The little ocher dredge at work off the end of the dock
already plays the dry perfectly off-beat claves.
The birds are outsize. Pelicans crash
into this peculiar gas unnecessarily hard,
it seems to me, like pickaxes,
rarely coming up with anything to show for it,
and going off with humorous elbowings.
Black-and-white man-of-war birds soar
on impalpable drafts
and open their tails like scissors on the curves
or tense them like wishbones, till they tremble.
The frowsy sponge boats keep coming in
with the obliging air of retrievers,
bristling with jackstraw gaffs and hooks
and decorated with bobbles of sponges.
There is a fence of chicken wire along the dock
where, glinting like little plowshares,
the blue-gray shark tails are hung up to dry
for the Chinese-restaurant trade.
Some of the little white boats are still piled up
against each other, or lie on their sides, stove in,
and not yet salvaged, if they ever will be, from the last bad storm,
like torn-open, unanswered letters.
The bight is littered with old correspondences.
Click. Click. Goes the dredge,
and brings up a dripping jawful of marl.
All the untidy activity continues,
awful but cheerful.
poem by Elizabeth Bishop
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Up On The Housetop
(traditional - arranged by jimmy buffett & michael utley)
(dude, share that wave with me)
Up on the housetop
Reindeer paws
Down comes good ole santa claus
Down through the chimney with lots of toys
All for the little ones christmas joys
Ho ho ho who wouldnt go
Ho ho ho who wouldnt go
Up on the housetop click click click
Down through the chimney with good st. nick
Next comes the stocking of little bill
Could you see what a glorious ? ?
Here is a hammer and lots of tacks
Also a ball and a whip that cracks
Ho ho ho who wouldnt go
Ho ho ho who wouldnt go
Up on the housetop click click click
Down through the chimney with good st. nick
(cmon dude share the wave, its christmas
Celebratory celebratory)
Instrumental
Ho ho ho who wouldnt go
Ho ho ho who wouldnt go
Ho ho ho who wouldnt go
Ho ho ho who wouldnt go
Up on the housetop click click click
Down through the chimney with good st. nick
(so they say its your birthday
Its my birthday too.
Yea I got you a present)
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Birds and The Worrier
it is raining and as usual
the worrier is worried about the birds
they have no house of their own
and they may die in the cold she says
unknown to her the birds are happier
flying in the rain
chirping and catching all the prey
that are too worried
about where to stay
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Certain Preference On Early Mornings...
sometimes forgive me
but i do not like to hear bird chirping by my window
on early mornings for honestly i prefer
the silent sounds of the wind
from the sea,
and so when i hear those chirping birds
perching on the tree
those still feeding their fledgelings
i exercise that right of having to close my
glass windows
preferring once again
the privacy of my room and the exclusion of the
outside world
by the curtains and then i begin to sip my coffee
reading a poem
listening to the words seeping like rain to the
hair of my own soul.....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The clock is clicking
The clock is clicking
It is clicking to show just then
A time span of one second
Has become the past
The clock is clicking
Each click means a step
Towards your progress and growth
Optimistic wisdom says
The clock is clicking
Each click means a nail
Onto your coffin
Philosophical wisdom says
The clock is clicking
Each click means the arrival
Of a child in India
Population expert worries
The clock is clicking
Each click means the committal
Of a crime
Police personnel observes
The clock is clicking
Each click means a travel of 2.5 km
In space of the earth's surface
Astromer estimates
The clock is clicking
Each click means a change
In fortune of an individual
Astrologer announces
The clock is clicking
Each click means the admission
Of a heart patient
Health specialist heaves
The clock is clicking
Each click means the drain
Of my battery
The clock cries within
The clock is clicking
Let the clock be clicking
Let any one have his or her inkling
Let us be lively and kicking
Let nothing stop us becoming a king
The clock is clicking
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Early Morning Duet
rain subsiding
birds chirping
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Early Morning Symphony
silence is a
blank sheet of paper
the notes come from
the birds
this early morning
i hear the most beautiful
song, a choir of birds
chirping, winds gently
blowing, hushes from
leaves, drums from my
footsteps, beatings of
my heart
whistles from my soul.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Thirty Dirty Birds
Thirty dirty birds
Sitting on a curb
Chirping and Burping
And eating
Dirty earthworms
Along comes Herbie
From thirty-third
And third
Saw the thirty
Dirty birds
Sitting on a curb
Chirping and Burping
And eating
Dirty earthworms
Boy he was
Disturbed
song performed by by Red Hot Chili Peppers from Freaky Styley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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