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Swan Song

Is evolution wiser than we know?
Are we to believe it nothing more
nor less, than threats, in holy or unholy
alliance with blind chance;
survival of the fittest, its whole aim?

And swans, but upside-down giraffes?

Once upon a time… when food became too short
for the short-necked to reach the last top leaves,
the ones with longer necks, survived;
female giraffes, noting this,
sought partners for their progeny among the longer-necked;
and so, nature stretched her expanding world
to – giraffes…

And when the short-necked ducks
ran short of food,
the longer-necked reached down in shallow water..
the females noted this.. and finally... the swan
emerged.. its feathers waterproof,
its bird-feet, larger; claws now webbed…

And thus, we sentimental human beings –
who cannot add such cubits to our stature –
stand and marvel; as those graceful swans
make life seem easy… little do we see
of where their work is done.

Mother Evolution, so it seems,
is liberal with her gifts –
here, an ungainly visual joke;
there, an elegant white curve of beauty.

Hindus name their holy men
as ‘hamsa’, swan: gliding over life;
their work, in inner realms we would not know;
giraffes –camelopards, as they were called
by puzzled Europeans; splay-legged,
with ears that look surprised;
walking periscopes; waiting
for a poet to join them in a question:
does Evolution need now, to evolve?

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

Talking Hawking meeting Dawkins

Suppose that ‘Evolution’ were throned God,
with all the praise and power accorded That?
Where would that path then lead the human race?
And what new thoughts would fill our mind and heart?
Evolution would then rule three worlds:
As Spirit’s cause, and Mind, and world of Form;
would then be seen in Beauty, Goodness, Truth;
no longer mere Survival’s tooth and claw,
but Lord of evolution of our minds;
of spirit, too, in seeking its true self;
new Age of Reason, calling all our powers
to seek ideals as real; rightfully ours
from genesis to paradise above;
no longer as survival… but… as Love?

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Benny Bullfrog

So there I am polished heart throat in full puff
I look the part my wad is packed to reimburse.
Ive yet to re-rehearse many moons spent on lovelines lent from
Long-legged pop-eyed fat-necked benny bullfrog.
Final run-through polish up
The flower of loves my buttercup.
Moon in june for you Ill croon
Just like pop-eyed fat-necked benny bullfrog.
Mean piece of muscle Im melvin toad,
I dice with death, across the road.
Hop aboard my lovers leap
Fat-necked quatermass
Who needs a benny bullfrog.
Here she comes (keep a cool head)
My legs numb (keep a cool head)
I cant run (keep a cool head)
High! my names hunky how dyou do
I catch a fly in one swoop
I catch a fly just for you
Thats if you do want me to
But youre not hungry I know
A sixth sense gave me a clue.
I know what else we can do.
(you creep !)
Long-legged pop-eyed fat-necked benny bullfrog.
Wish I was benny bullfrog
Cool as benny bullfrog
Whats the secret, bullfrog?

song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Show Tune II

That's the long and short of it
now you know
how I've been waiting all these years
where I'm coming from
that's the long and short of it.

That's the long and short of it
now you see
just how hot hot jazz was
how it turned about, my bookcase
that's the long and short of it.

That's the long and short of it
now you know
that my arrest record's
not my best record
that's the long and short of it.

That's the long and short of it
now you see
how the Past's like a love
you can neither leave nor live
that's the long and short of it

That's the long and short of it
now you know
it was no gun in my pocket
it was a rocket
that's the long and short of it.

That's the long and short of it
and you're wond'ring dear
how I kept so pure
hull, it was easy
that's the long and short of it.

That's the long and short of it
now you see
so bounce your head
into bed
that's the long and short of it.

That's the long and short of it
read the blues
in these tattoos
make a song of it
that's the short and long of it.

How I wish
there was a bridge-
then I could burn it;
or the train
of a refrain
then I could board it
but there isn't
no there isn't, so...

poem by Morgan Michaels
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Life Is Too Short

life is too short
Music: rudolf schenker
Lyrics: klaus meine
Have you ever seen the morning?
When the sun comes up the shore
And the silence teach the beauty for the sound
Have you ever set there waiting?
For the time to stand still
For all the worlds and stars
From turning around
And you run
'cause life is too short
And you run
'cause life is too short
Have you ever seen the glory?
When the moon is on the rise
And the dreams are close
To the ones that we love
Have you ever set there waiting?
For heaven to give a sign
So we could find the place
Where angels come from
And you run (and you run)
'cause life is too short
And you run (and you run)
'cause life is too short
There's a time that turns
Turn back time
But i don't see i can
It only works
If you believe in the truth
But there's a time to live
And a time to cry
But if you're by my side
I will try to catch a star
I'll try to catch a star
Just for you
And i run
'cause life is too short
And i run (and i run)
'cause life is too short
And i run and i run and i run and i run and i run

song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Black Swan

When the swans turned my sister into a swan
I would go to the lake, at night, from milking:
The sun would look out through the reeds like a swan,
A swan's red beak; and the beak would open
And inside there was darkness, the stars and the moon.

Out on the lake, a girl would laugh.
"Sister, here is your porridge, sister,"
I would call; and the reeds would whisper,
"Go to sleep, go to sleep, little swan."
My legs were all hard and webbed, and the silky

Hairs of my wings sank away like stars
In the ripples that ran in and out of the reeds:
I heard through the lap and hiss of water
Someone's "Sister . . . sister," far away on the shore,
And then as I opened my beak to answer

I heard my harsh laugh go out to the shore
And saw - saw at last, swimming up from the green
Low mounds of the lake, the white stone swans:
The white, named swans . . . "It is all a dream,"
I whispered, and reached from the down of the pallet

To the lap and hiss of the floor.
And "Sleep, little sister," the swan all sang
From the moon and stars and frogs of the floor.
But the swan my sister called, "Sleep at last, little sister,"
And stroked all night, with a black wing, my wings.

poem by Randall Jarrell
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0016 Amphibrach

A tinker, a tailor, a soldier, a sailor...
‘A one and a two and a three and a four, guys…’

The amphibrach sings one of poetry’s basics;
a metrical foot – though a difficult one; it
is named from the Greek, meaning short at
both ends – that is, short, long, short, short, long short;
a poet can use it like this for a few lines, or longer;
however, it always seems trying to be something
else – like, some poor donkey who’s lame in one hind-leg;
it’s happier changing to dactyl or ana-
pest – see what I mean, now?

poem by Michael Shepherd
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123.Kumaragurupara Swamigal’s Sakalakalavalli Maalai-Stanza 5

Stanza 5

Tamil Transliteration:

Panchap pidhantharu seiyaporr paapang kaerugamenn
Nennjath thadaththala raadhadhennae nedunth that kamalth
Thanjath thuvasa muyarththoansenn naavu magamumvellaikk
Kanjath thavisoth thirundhdhaai sakala kalaavalliyae!

Translation Poem

Occupying Brahman’s red tongue,
Who is holding high, the flag of
Swan white, with long legs red complexion
beating the red colour of lotus into oblivion
and also occupying His great heart
and seated on the white lotus flower
in a beautiful sitting posture
Hey Mother! White swan!
Master of all arts and science!
Wont you make Your soft golden red lotus feet
decorated with the red mehandi
blossom in my heart?

Message:

Focused attention on Art and education and technical acumen are signs of progress

Red Message:

In the ordinary world Red is a danger mark; in mythology red is considered a symbol of victory and ladies wearing red are respected and loved

According to Henry Dreyfus,

1) it is popularly felt that red, the color of blood and fire, represents life and vitality. Red also signifies the color of the sun: a symbol of energy, radiating its vitalizing life force into human beings. Red is also looked upon as a sensual color, and can be associated with man's most profound urges and impulses.
2) red and white together immediately signifies happiness and celebration. The combination of red and white in the decorative ornaments used on wedding or engagement presents has a compelling quality that suggests man's urge to create a bond between his own life and that of the gods. Red and white are also the colors of the uniforms that shrine maidens’ wear (denoting these colors divine nature.)

Here in our stanza we have white swan with red legs, his flag is white, the seat of my Mother Saraswathi is white, her feet are red

A swan is a bird that is a symbol of gracefulness and calmness. Swans are graceful as they float atop the water in ponds, and they are calm creatures. Swans also symbolize sensitivity, love, and beauty. Because it has domain over water as well as air, the swan is considered to be the Bird of Light and is associated with the dawning of the Sun

birds often symbolize the divine. They are often viewed as gods in disguise, or else they are the vehicles of gods and goddesses.
While the peacock is a symbol of material manifestation, the swan stands for the ethereal. It represents the presence of divine inspiration in our world.
Note: in the previous stanza my mother Saraswathi is compared to Peacock and here Swan

This combination signifies the love of the poet for my divine Mother

27 8 09

poem by Rajagopal Haran
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Erotic Lullaby For Bedding, After Roethke

Belly belly the hard boiled egg.
I map out of a dream.
Love a long necked boy.

Dance lips! Leaves of legion.
Jelly, yard dog! Leap to June.

Suckle me, honey,
long necked, boney onion.
Why cry when peeled?

Count the rings of a tree,
the circles of a breath.
The nose is a love.
Press me, press me.
Iron me soft.

A breath leans,
nape of jeans falling.

Wedge me, wedge me.
Be an ax.
Clap me, trunk of calcium,
bone of need.

Sing, throat, puller of weeds,
secret coronations.
I day your arbor.
You arbor my seed,
belly belly
egg of sway.

Falter me,
long necked, naked boy.
Lather I'd rather thee.

All egg is joy.

poem by Warren Falcon
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Life's Too Short

I let you escape, slip through my fingers
We made our mistakes, but memories linger
Each time I turn a corner I swear I see your face
But I'm standing here alone in the wonder
What I really needed, what made me run away?
Was it just somebody's spell I was under
(Chorus)
We all love on borrowed time, tomorrow's flying blind
And life's too short to be living without you
You laughed at my jokes, broke down my defenses
It's like my heart just awoke, and brought back my senses
I've got my motor running, it's all that I can do
Cause every road I'm taking, is leading back to you
Repeat Chorus
We all love on borrowed time, tomorrow's flying blind
And life's too short to be living without you
And life's too short
And life's too short
I give in I can't go it alone, yeah I'm done now I know that you're gone
I need someone to save me and life's too short, too short
I give in I can't go it alone
Life's too short to be living without you
Life's too short
I give in I can't go it alone
Life's too short can't be living without you
Life's too short
I give in I can't go it alone
I can live without you
Life's too short
I give in I can't go it alone
Life's too short to be living without you

song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Well as giraffes say, you don't get no leaves unless you stick your neck out.

quote by Sid Waddell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fragility Of Love

The fragility of love

Only angels and butterflies should write love poems.
When elephants, giraffes and gruff sailors try to,
they sink into the mire of unfinished thoughts not
clarified, hazy sentimental longings and clumsy
footwork. The ungainly trying to dance to a tune of
love that confuses them, leaving behind deep wounds
in the delicate soil of adoration that will never heal.
Or worst of all, the ultimate shame, to have ones
declaration of love turned into a folklore joke.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Short People

Short people
Short people got no reason
Short people got no reason
Short people got no reason
To live
They got little hands
Little eyes
They walk around
Tellin great big lies
They got little noses
And tiny little teeth
They wear platform shoes
On their nasty little feet
Well, I dont want no short people
Dont want no short people
Dont want no short people
'round here
Short people are just the same
As you and i
(a fool such as I)
All men are brothers
Until the day they die
(its a wonderful world)
Short people got nobody
Short people got nobody
Short people got nobody
To love
They got little baby legs
That stand so low
You got to pick em up
Just to say hello
They got little cars
That go beep, beep, beep
They got little voices
Goin peep, peep, peep
They got grubby little fingers
And dirty little minds
Theyre gonna get you every time
Well, I dont want no short people
Dont want no short people
Dont want no short people
round here

song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Leaf

It was one of so many; an army
of greenness; anonymous footsoldier
in the cause of nature’s greater good.
It was tree.

First, as summer lingered into autumn,
it laid down its arms; the days of empire-building
over; no longer did it need
to fight in serried ranks for space.

Then next, laid down the need to breathe;
lingered strong upon the branch
as old soldiers do, before they fade away;
boasted now, beyond loyalty, all pride.

Now, its fire of life turned to new arts
in pensioned, eased retirement; learned
a new palette of colours,
yellows, reds, browns; how to shade
from one to another; how to take
the breath away with contrast.

Then, as it relinquished hold
on water, took up further skills;
learned precious, porcelain fragility;
discovered sculpture,
curled like a dancer’s sway,
found arabesques and curves of beauty
beyond the finest human artistry.

Finally, submitted to relinquish even earth.
A last curling fall at a moment’s puff of wind
all beyond its knowing
brought it onto the gatepost,
level with my eyes, just as I passed the gate;

displayed like some ballerina in the last pose
of some tragic, swan-necked dance, that time
could indeed stand still: so that even beauty
held her breath and waited…

in that moment outside time,
told me all unspoken things:
thoughts that rest too deep for tears;
there where tears meet joy.

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The way it has to be

The world is full of predators,
the strongest prey upon the week
It’s one of nature’s primal laws.

Only the fittest live to breed
and pass strong genes to their offspring.
They must be ruthless to succeed.

Mankind does not obey these rules
and by preserving weaker strains
Appears perhaps to prove that we are fools.

We breed beyond capacity
and damage the environment.
Avoiding the simplicity of laws

which Mother Nature made.
The weak and flawed will not survive
they simply do not make the grade.

Though Mother Nature can enforce
the rules she made. against mans will
Does so as matter of course.

Too many mouths too little food
Many must die to save the few
Maybe it’s time we understood.

Mother nature‘s in control
Because mankind’s not fit to be
She sees the picture as a whole.

Something that mankind cannot do
His stiff necked pride gets in the way.
So Nature does what she needs to.

She culls the herds quite ruthlessly
the weakest still go to the wall.
This is the way it has to be.

1-Jan-08