The Peacock.
Once Juno's Bird (as Authors say)
Was seiz'd on by some Birds of Prey:
They pluck'd his Feathers, one by one,
Till all his useful Plumes were gone;
Stript him of ev'ry thing beside;
But left his Train, to please his Pride.
Some other Birds admir'd to see,
He tamely bore such Injury;
And often on his Patience jok'd--
He cry'd--They must not be provok'd:
I'm in their Pow'r, nor shall debate,
But yield to my unhappy Fate.
Yet in this Plight would he resort,
To where the Eagle kept his Court:
For, tho' oppress'd, he still was proud
To make his Bows among the Croud.
The Eagle, gracious, saw him there;
Which envious Courtiers could not bear,
Well knowing, should he tread that Soil,
He would in time put in for Spoil.
As Tameness Injuries provokes,
In Birds, as well as mortal Folks;
The Peacock they assault again,
And strip him of his glitt'ring Train.
Enrag'd at this, he stamp'd and tore,
And quoted Precedents a Score,
That Peacocks ever were allow'd
To shew their Beauty to the Croud.
At this the haughty Courtiers sneer,
And cry, What Bus'ness have you here?
He had a Right, they plainly saw;
But let him know, That Pow'r is Law.
At length a Pheasant standing by,
Beheld him with a pitying Eye:
And said, You now begin too late
To stem the Torrent of your Fate:
Yet are you not of all bereft;
For still a fair Retreat is left:
Why will you here neglected roam,
When you might be rever'd at home?
poem by Mary Barber
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Two Birds
The eagle and the hawk
all dwell in the sky
and all fly from heights
but the eagle rules and the hawk follows.
Yet they are two birds
The owl and the dove
all fly in the sky
and all dwell in nests
but the dove carries blessings
and the owl carries curses.
yet they are two birds still.
The two birds!
pride and humility
all dwell in our hearts
and sleep in the warmth of our egos
but humility shines while pride fades
There two birds still
The two birds!
sin and salvation
all appear in the world's contest
show casing life and death
but salvation heals, sin kills
yet these are two birds
poem by Timothy muggaga
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Pollution and Climate Change
First, of nature's course, it was the birds;
for theirs the air, above and over all;
knowing by intuition without need of words
as providential, seasoned, sure
as sparrow's fall;
and knowing too
how much to trust to men
who do not even trust each other.
It was, of nature's course, the snowy eagle
entrusted with the task:
the only bird who may look straight into the sun; and thus
to whom that message might be given, to ask,
to pass on to his lord; the only bird
whose plumage may reflect the sun's majestic rays,
and live; perhaps to bring a message back.
As to the message - was it just a sprig
of leaves from tallest tree - polluted, withered, black as crow?
or was it something inner in the words
as spoken on the flight from wintry sun to warmth, or
warmth to Northern spring?
They watched, the conference of the silent birds,
while snowy eagle, like the teepee's early morning smoke,
ascended higher, higher, into the sun's great eye,
which never man - eagle alone - may see;
and... do birds hope?
Or as the twilight falls upon the earth, accept
that what shall be, shall be?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Even leaves beg me'' says Eagle
eagle, niggard and black
perched on sycomore on Nile bank
tasty fish gambolled in water
at lightening speed eagle caught
tasty fish and scrambled out
eagle flew and perched on a tree
man was under a tree
and glanced at what sat on tree
eagle and man eyes met at ninety angle
eagle flew away saying
''man may conjure him
by evil eyes''
eagle flew and perched on second tree
some birds were on that tree
Eagle and others birds eyes met at ninety angle
eagle flew away saying he
'' choke as birds watch him eating''
Eagle flew and perched on third tree
the breeze shook leaves of tree
eagle saw leaves unfolded shaking
like a begging hand
eagle flew away saying
'' everything beg me , even leaves
beg me too''
Eagle flew and perched on fourth withered tree
no birds, men and leaves around there
only exrtreme silence around there
eagle ate tasty fish
sang in loudest resounding voice
''eel fish and tasty fish are not the same
I ate tasyty fish until heart palpitated in happiness''
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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The Eagle and The Bear
The eagle's strength to compare that
of the bear this is how they fair the bear
can rip apart anything standing there
yet the eagle can fly through the air
the mighty physical strength of the bear must
stay on the ground in a limited area
around yet the eagle's strength of us do share
it's in every heart and on something's we wear
it shows the strength of the eagle for all to share
the eagle and the bear.
poem by David J. Pipkin
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The Proud Peacock
I am the Peacock,
the beautiful bride
of the bird kingdom.
I am in no doubt
fairer than the cock
for I dwarf its pride
with feathers that stand-out.
I am the Peacock
who desires serfdom
from the bird kingdom,
for I long to usurp
the title of king
from the strong Eagle
who soars atop
with its air-borne wings.
Though fit as fiddle
with an awesome strength,
gliding the sky’s length
at a blistering pace,
yet dreaded for a face
that is void of grace.
I am the Peacock,
the elegantly clad.
Humans would be mad
to contend with me,
for shame you would see
if unclad they be.
poem by Joseph C Ogbonna (19 January 2015)
Submitted by Joseph C Ogbonna
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Birds
On seeing Birds, shot in the air,
Falling half-dead to the ground,
I simply fume, ’Tis not fair,
For the hunter is the world!
Birds like only freedom,
They get it but seldom,
Caged are they so often,
Killed for no good reason,
Witness to the creation,
They glide and dart in fashion,
It is He that feeds them,
Not the world, I or them.
Why then disturb the plumes,
And feathers of the air?
They can bear no ill-will,
Nor do they complain still,
Birds are beauteous beings,
Innocent, habits so nice,
Render the air with music,
To ears, so pleasant and wise.
Birds have their courtship,
And times of hardship,
Changing seasons, Sun and food,
Prefer to live as they should.
poem by John Celes
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Part Of The Machine
Everybodys jumping on the circus train.
Some jump high, some jump off again.
And the razzmatazz is rolling, women folk unveiled.
All truths to light, all crosses nailed.
Aiming high where the eagle circles ---
Where he keeps his tail feathers clean.
And wonders ''am I still a free bird?
Or just a part of the machine.
They hitch their coverd wagons and they roll out west.
Politics in the pockets of their sunday best.
Shaking hands, kissing babies, for all that theyre worth.
Oh, they promise you gold, promise heaven on earth.
Still, that old bald eagle circles ---
Its not the first time that hes seen
His reflection in the eyes of innocence.
Hes become just another
Part of the machine.
I wish I had an eagle like you ---
To look up to.
He could be my wings to fly in a big bird sky
Up above the whole machine.
Smart guys arent running --- theyre home and dry.
Up in the mountains where the eagle flies.
They wouldnt take that job
Offered on a plate.
They got to fly with the eagle, and he wont wait.
Looking down on the smoke and the factories
Till the truth creeps up unseen.
They see themselves in the faces of their children
And realize they too are
Part of the machine.
I wish I had an eagle like you ---
To wake up to.
He could be my wings to fly
In a big bird sky, hey ---
Lets be part of the machine.
Part of the machine.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Caged Eagle
. . . I went the other day
To see the birds and beasts they keep enmewed
In the London Zoo. One of the first I saw —
One of the first I noticed, was an Eagle,
Ragged, befouled, within his iron bars
He sat without a movement or a sound,
And, when I stood and pitying looked at him,
I saw his great sad eyes that winkless gazed
Out to the horizon sky. I passed from there,
And walked about the gardens hither and thither,
Till all the afternoon was spent. Returning then
To seek my home, again by chance I passed
The Eagle's cage, and stood again and looked,
And saw his great sad eyes that winkless gazed
Out to the horizon sky. So I went home. . . .
The Eagle is Ireland.
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
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Cassandra
I heard one who said: "Verily,
What word have I for children here?
Your Dollar is your only Word,
The wrath of it your only fear.
"You build it altars tall enough
To make you see but you are blind;
You cannot leave it long enough
To look before you or behind.
"When Reason beckons you to pause,
You laugh and say that you know best;
But what it is you know, you keep
As dark as ingots in a chest.
"You laugh and answer, 'We are young;
Oh, leave us now, and let us grow:'
Not asking how much more of this
Will Time endure or Fate bestow.
"Because a few complacent years
Have made your peril of your pride,
Think you that you are to go on
Forever pampered and untried?
"What lost eclipse of history,
What bivouac of the marching stars,
Has given the sign for you to see
Milleniums and last great wars?
"What unrecorded overthrow
Of all the world has ever known,
Or ever been, has made itself
So plain to you, and you alone?
"Your Dollar, Dove, and Eagle make
A Trinity that even you
Rate higher than you rate yourselves;
It pays, it flatters, and it's new.
"And though your very flesh and blood
Be what the Eagle eats and drinks,
You'll praise him for the best of birds,
Not knowing what the eagle thinks.
"The power is yours, but not the sight;
You see not upon what you tread;
You have the ages for your guide,
But not the wisdom to be led.
"Think you to tread forever down
The merciless old verities?
And are you never to have eyes
To see the world for what it is?
"Are you to pay for what you have
With all you are?"--No other word
We caught, but with a laughing crowd
Moved on. None heeded, and few heard.
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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American Bald Eagle
American bald eagle
The American eagle took to flight
Soared into the valley, with its wings of might.
An endangered species it became in 1973
To protect the heritage of you and me.
On our currency and in our hearts
Of the united states it has become a big part.
With a wing span of 79 to 90
And a body length of 35 to 37
And a neck and tail as white as snow
This is something that many don’t know.
The beauty of this bird so rare
Is something that we’re proud to share.
They have been here even before
The birth of the united states
And this is what makes them great
For they survived from the
Destruction of man
And taught us how to take a stand.
So to the American eagle we honor you
In everything that we say and do.
Keep us standing tall and proud
For throughout this world
You do get around.
poem by Louis Rams
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American Bald Eagle
American bald eagle
The American eagle took to flight
Soared into the valley, with its wings of might.
An endangered species it became in 1973
To protect the heritage of you and me.
On our currency and in our hearts
Of the united states it has become a big part.
With a wing span of 79 to 90
And a body length of 35 to 37
And a neck and tail as white as snow
This is something that many don’t know.
The beauty of this bird so rare
Is something that we’re proud to share.
They have been here even before
The birth of the united states
And this is what makes them great
For they survived from the
Destruction of man
And taught us how to take a stand.
So to the American eagle we honor you
In everything that we say and do.
Keep us standing tall and proud
For throughout this world
You do get around.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Aubade And I Am Not Like Other Birds Of Prey
Morning at last!
Every night is a fight till you're waking
Dreams dancing past
Through the silence of sleep
Dawn is breaking
I wake and watch them till then
And I am not like other birds of prey
And I am not like other birds of prey
Oh, night is long, you won't needing me
For a dressed up time I am there to see
That fear holds no sway
Soft is my plan
And my eyes kill the lies that felt happy
Life is my right
And in sleep's little bed
I'll protect you
So, hear, let my presence dismay
That I am not like other birds of prey
That I am not like other birds of prey
When hopes are young and your cares are few
Then I'm sure above keeping truth in you
And my name is love
Submitted by Michael Hack
song performed by by Supertramp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thelema and Macareus
Thelema's lively, all admire
Her charms, but she's too full of fire;
Impatience ever racks her breast,
Her heart a stranger is to rest.
A jocund youth of bulky size
This nymph beheld with tender eyes,
From hers his humor differed quite,
Black does not differ more from white.
On his broad face and open mien
There dwelt tranquility serene;
His converse is from languor free
And boisterous vivacity.
His sleep was sound and sweet at night,
Active he was at morn like light;
As day advanced he pleased still more,
Macareus was the name he bore.
His mistress void of thought as fair
Tormented him with too much care:
She adoration thought her due,
And into fierce reproaches flew;
Her Macareus with laughter left,
And of all hopes of bliss bereft.
From clime to clime like mad she ran
To seek the dear, the faithless man:
From him she could not live content,
So first of all to court she went.
There she of every one inquired,
'Is Macareus with you retired?'
Hearing that name the witlings there
To laugh and smile could scarce forbear.
'Madam,' said they, 'who is this squire
Macareus, for whom you inquire?
Madam, his character display,
Or else we shan't know what to say.'
'He is a man,' returned the fair,
'Possessed of each endowment rare,
A man of virtue so refined,
He hated none of human kind;
To whom no man e'er owed a spite,
Who always knew to reason right,
Who void of care lived still at ease,
And knew all human kind to please.'
The courtiers answered with a sneer,
'You are not like to find him here,
Mortals with such endowments rare
But seldom to the court repair.'
The fair then to the city bent
Her way, and stopped a convent.
She thought that in that calm retreat
She might her tranquil lover meet.
'Madam,' then said the under-prior,
The man for whom you thus inquire
We long have waited for in vain,
To visit us he ne'er did deign.
But such a loss to compensate,
We've idle time and vigils late;
We have our stated days of fasting
With discord and divisions lasting.'
A short monk then with crown shaved o'er,
Said, 'Madam, seek this man no more;
For I'm by false reports misled,
Or else your lover's long since dead.'
What the monk insolently said
Made Thelema with rage grow red:
'Brother,' said she, 'I'd have you know
The man who has caused all my woe
Was made for me, and me alone,
He's in this world on which I'm thrown;
With me he'll live and die content,
I'm propery his element:
Who aught else told you, on my word,
Has said a thing that's most absurd.'
This said, away the fair one ran,
Resolved to find the inconstant man.
'At Paris, where the wits abound,
Perhaps,' said she, 'he may be found,
The wits speak of him as a sage;'
On of them said: 'You by our page,
Madam, perhaps have been misled;
When there of Macareus you read,
We spoke of one we never knew.'
Then near she to the law-court drew,
Shutting her eyes, quick passed the fair,
'My love,' she cried, 'can't sure be there;
There's some attraction in the Court,
But who'd to this vile place resort?
Themis' black followers needs must prove
Eternal foes to him I love.'
Fair Thelema at Rameau's shrine,
Where the muse utters strains divine,
The man who her so much neglected
There to meet, was what she expected.
At those feasts oft she was a guest,
Where meet gay people richly dressed;
Such people as we all agree
To call the best of company.
People of an address polite,
She looked upon at the first sight
As perfect copies of her lover;
But she soon after could discover,
That striving most to appear the same,
They still were widest of their aim.
At last the fair one in despair,
Finding how vain was all her care,
And grown of her inquiries tired,
To her retreat would have retired:
The object which she there first spied
Was Macareus by her bedside;
He waited there, hid from her eyes,
That he the fair one might surprise:
'Henceforward,' said he, 'live with me,
From all inquietude be free,
Do not, like vain and haughty dames,
Be too assuming in your claims;
And if you would henceforth possess
My person and my tenderness,
Never more make demands more high
Than suits me with them to comply.'
Who's understood by either name,
Both of the lover and the dame,
The folks who are profound in Greek
Cannot be very far to seek.
Taught by this emblem they'll relate
What's to be every mortal's fate,
Thee, Macareus, though all men choose,
Though much they love thee, oft they lose;
And I'm persuaded that you dwell
With me, though this I fear to tell.
Who boasts that with thee he is blessed,
By envy oft is dispossessed;
A man should know, to make thee sure,
How to live happy while obscure.
Homage To The Turkey (Second Try) ....[Birds; American History]
I sent off as suggested, my first effort to my Italian friend Carmi.
She read it and then requested something 'lower key'; to me that's Irish blarney!
I had mentioned, first time, Ben Franklin's affection for The Turkey; she thought THAT was nice.
I didn't mind naming Ben the first time around; this will make it twice.
Ben was famous as a diplomat when America was newly 'free'.
He was also an inventor I believe. I think once he used a 'lower key'
while performing an experiment with lightning, Nature's electricity.
It involved using a kite, and a kite string on which was tied a key ('lower'?) .
But back to Turkey: Ben thought the native Turkey to be noble as could be.
Despite Ben's efforts, the Bald Eagle, instead, was picked as a symbol of 'The Land of The Free'.
I must admit I admire and enjoy seeing both birds I did now name,
but the Eagle's pictured on money and well protected, while the Turkey's wild game.
Turkeys can be quite majestic when they strut about, their feathers ruffled and spread,
but unlike the soaring Eagle, in turkey season a hunter may shoot a turkey dead.
Death would not be my preference for either of these noble birds. I wonder now
if Carmi is reading and enjoying at least some of my words.
I helped New York Conservation Department return Turkeys to my home state.
That was near Ithaca, where in the 1960's, no turkey had been seen of late.
I guess the effort worked. In late years I saw turkeys; Toms and at times a hen.
They probably emigrated from Pennsylvania, to the south, the state of dear old Ben.
I've never heard an eagle cry, but to hear a Turkey gobble from woods is thrilling.
Carmi I would have voted for The Turkey. Alas! The Eagle got top billing.
(Nov.2012)
poem by Bri Edwards
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Train of fate
I see life passing by
On this train that I ride
All the people I sit beside
What is it that they hide?
How do I communicate?
On this train that`s running late
Often times tempting fate
Looking at my watch checking the date
In a world with so much hate
I listen to a heated debate
Like a fish hooked on the bait
On a train where I sit and wait
My emotions locked behind a gate
My heart beating at such a fast rate
Yet my mind very sedate
Thinking of a better world I wish to create
Where all the people are feeling great
Where love, hope and joy are the motto of state
But i`m stuck on a train running late
Pondering whether I should temp fate
And find the key that unlocks the gate
poem by Joseph Whelan
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Important Birds
Important findings have been made,
Disorders are realised for the people.
Geese shall sound in the skies
To enlighten a few who listen.
Many times a day, the sounds of birds
Arrive and shake the disorder.
An albatross hurts me further,
An eagle has no home here, but further.
Let importance be the guide not the wind,
For wind is reluctant in the eyes of us.
The sky has abandoned the birds at night,
Or have the birds abandoned the night-sky?
Geese and swans are beautiful birds,
But where are all the seagulls?
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Challenge: A Court Ballad
I.
To one fair lady out of Court,
And two fair ladies in,
Who think the Turk and Pope a sport,
And wit and love no sin!
Come, these soft lines, with nothing stiff in,
To Bellenden, Lepell, and Griffin.
With a fa, la, la.
II.
What passes in the dark third row,
And what behind the scene,
Couches and crippled chairs I know,
And garrets hung with green;
I know the swing of sinful hack,
Where many damsels cry alack.
With a fa, la, la.
III.
Then why to Courts should I repair,
Where's such ado with Townsend?
To hear each mortal stamp and swear,
And every speech with 'Zounds' end;
To hear them rail at honest Sunderland,
And rashly blame the realm of Blunderland.
With a fa, la, la.
IV.
Alas! like Schutz I cannot pun,
Like Grafton court the Germans;
Tell Pickenbourg how slim she's grown,
Like Meadows run to sermons;
To court ambitious men may roam,
But I and Marlbro' stay at home.
With a fa, la, la.
V.
In truth, by what I can discern,
Of courtiers, 'twixt you three,
Some wit you have, and more may learn
From Court, than Gay or Me:
Perhaps, in time, you'll leave high diet,
To sup with us on milk and quiet.
With a fa, la, la.
VI.
At Leicester Fields, a house full nigh,
With door all painted green,
(A Milliner, I mean);
There may you meet us three to three,
For Gay can well make two of Me.
With a fa, la, la.
VII.
But should you catch the prudish itch,
And each become a coward,
Bring sometimes with you lady Rich,
And sometimes mistress Howard;
For virgins, to keep chaste, must go
Abroad with such as are not so.
With a fa, la, la.
VIII.
And thus, fair maids, my ballad ends;
God send the king safe landing;
And make all honest ladies friends
To armies that are standing;
Preserve the limits of those nations,
And take off ladies' limitations.
With a fa, la, la.
poem by Alexander Pope
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Jumping Someone Else's Train
Don't say what you mean
You might spoil your face
If you walk in the crowd
You won't leave any trace
It's always the same
You're jumping someone else's train
It won't take you long
To learn the new smile
You'll have to adapt
Or you'll be out of style
It's always the same
You're jumping someone else's train
If you pick up on it quick
You can say you were there
Again and again and again
You're jumping someone else's train
It's the latest wave
That you've been craving for
The old ideal
Was getting such a bore
Now you're back in line
Going not quite quite as far
But in half the time
Everyone's happy
They're finally all the same
'cause everyone's jumping
Everyone else's train
Jumping someone else's train
Jumping someone else's train
Jumping someone else's train
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How to appreciate me
afar like a flock of birds
because when you come near
they would have flown away
tell you how you should
appreciate me
look from afar
like a birdwatcher
screening their
colourful feathery prizes
in the burstling
privacy of each other's world
the birds joining you
in praising the
wonders of nature
seeking pleasure
the lightness and
gentleness of feathers
without feeling the
trickeries of time
zen bathing in
so many hues
and shapes of green
taking the striking
plumes as an invitation
to the lanes of God
in the search for
the ultimate beauty
the chirpings
as the start of that journey
hypnotising
clear crystals
and mountain spring
a song to the
sanctum of
sacredness
of tranquility
the bird's hop
a child's inquisitive search
for memories
as they fly in
the sky of
make beliefs
and fantasies
the bird's smooth
and adorable head
filling the soft spot
in our heart of love
their crowns
a salutation to
the hands of God
and yes, just be there
watching things from afar
and be aloof
because if you come too near
the bird iwould have flown
away with all the feathers
of all my dreams
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Call Me Home By: Taylor Donnelly
Call Me Home
By: Taylor Donnelly
Please call me home
even when my thoughts begin the roam
because its you and me
everything and more do you see
that valley with the trees
the birds and the bees
oh please just call me home
my thoughts are like your dark locks pulled thought a comb
the tangles stretched till they break
pulled as tight as it can take
I'm pray'en that the rain will never come
you may think that its dumb
but it will wash away everything that we've done
The sun will take a nap under its water blanket oh that sun
and then her mascara once again will run
so please call me home
especially when my thoughts begin to roam
let the music ring out till it finds my ears
and I'll hold you tight help each other forget our childish fears
can you please make me cold enough to bare the brunt of this
can you please warm me up with another warm kiss
these is little i don't want from you so
please call me home
please call me home
call me home
poem by Taylor P. Donnelly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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