0048 On First Reading Rilke
Out of the cage
you had not known you were in
with a freedom
beyond what you thought it to be
into the spaciousness
which was boundless
and a joy
which redefined itself day by day
around a firm centre
which was everywhere
for Joanna
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Freedom Years
As the day draws near to my Freedom's reprise,
Oft-lost am I in thought, as I surmise
The wonder of the great and boundless skies,
Under which the majestic American Bald Eagle flies!
This is soon to be the scene of my soul's rebirth-
The whole of this great, magnificent Earth,
Where no longer will my liberty be restrained;
My mirth may no longer be contained-
It is as free and boundless as I am soon to be,
With as much unfettered Freedom as I am soon to see!
Naught may contain my jollity, as days draw down-
I am, as the majestic Eagle-I may not be bound,
By anything any longer, as my Freedom nears, -
Soon, very soon, I begin again, a celebration of my Freedom years!
Maurice Harris,7 September 2011
poem by Maurice Harris
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Freedom III
Freedom
Does not define
Caged birds’ struggle
and clapping of hand
in joy of freeing them.
Freedom
Is being free
From the cage of imposing authority
Leaving the cage itself
Free of occupants,
By removing the caging thoughts.
Freedom
Is beyond imprisonment
Of desires.
poem by cyclopseven Ram
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Joanna
Please dont ask me what went wrong
I never planned it to come out like this
Silent moments, thoughtless words
I never wantedthese memories
Joanna
I love you so
Dont wait for me joanna
I never meant to hurt you so
But now I have to let you go
Dont wait for me joanna
Ill always say a prayer for you
And hope some day that you
Will found true love
When as children we used to play
We sat and wondered where wed be today
I said wed never be apart
But now we lie among the broken hearts
Joanna
I love you so
Dont wait for me joanna
I never meant to hurt you so
But now I have to let you go
Dont wait for me joanna
Ill always say a prayer for you
And hope some day that you
Will found true love
Dont wait, no no
Joanna
I cant let go, no
Dont walk away joanna
I never meant to huert you so
But now I know I cant let you go
Dont walk away joanna
Ill always say a prayer for you
And I hope that you will find
In me true love
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poem about Poetry - Adam's first poem after the fall
i did not know sin meant chains
so full of them all over my physique
and i did not know the deceptive apple
could lead to this woeful state
only god now is boundless freedom
the paradise boundless freedom
rhe sky boundless freedom
the sea boundless freedom
and to enjoy all these now in chain,
boundless the hurt is the heart
injurious chain on every inch of my physique
that jolts me for their wants
every minute of the day
and to know that i will pass this chain
down to every of my offsprings
binding them down to earth
till they become just dust and bones
chained, chained, chained,
this hateful long chain the devil spawned
that laid end to end
could snake its way round the world
this hateful chain that circles the body
imprisons it, hurtful as red hot iron
how stealthily it works day by day
tightening its grip
till i am wrinkled, bent, and bedridden
till only the last breath would release me
of its curse
this chain that torture me for wordly needs
oh god, how hateful you are
to bind me in these red hot chains! ! !
note:
chain refers to the blood vessels round our body
they indeed resemble a chain
as never did adam experience hunger
until this chain exacted its wants
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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A Cage in the Bird
he was out of the cage
as he was treated as a bird
and he sings
to the sky
but then he had loved the cage so well
and the hands of the master
that feed him
that every morning listens to his song
he had missed sorely so well
and so back into that cage
he flies in
for the master had left it all open
he sings again
concluding that the cage must also
be the home
for freedom
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A bird escaping finally from its cage
Let me not speak about
This bird that finally finds a way
Out of its cage
New to its freedom
It whirls and circles the skies
A tryst with the wind
A feast with the sun
A dive to the sea
A rising up to the limitless
Space around it
Let me not speak about its
Final regret
Its wanting to be back in the cage
Again
Because for a time
It thinks again
It is really its home
Forever
The bird shall soon ask you
To open the cage
To spend its nights there
All its lifetime
Soon it will have the courage to say it
Freedom sometimes
Home it is not
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Forever
THERE'S NO PRESENT THERE'S NO FUTURE
I DON'T EVEN KNOW ABOUT THE PAST
IT'S ALL TIMELESS AND NEVER ENDING
TO TAKE IT IN IT'S ALL TOO VAST
IT GOES - FOREVER AND EVER
YOU THOUGHT YOU KNEW BUT YOU NEVER
THERE GOES
TOMMOROW
JOURNEY TO THE CENTRE OF ETERNITY
JOURNEY TO THE CENTRE OF ETERNITY
THE TIME IS COMING BUT ALSO GOING
AND IT'S LEAVING NEVER TO RETURN
MAYBE FOREVER IT COULD BE HEAVEN
BUT IF IT'S HELL THEN YOU CAN WATCH ME BURN
IT GOES - FOREVER AND EVER
YOU THOUGHT YOU KNEW BUT YOU NEVER
THERE GOES
TOMMOROW
I GOT TO TRAVEL FOREVER
IT'S ALL WITHIN MY MIND
AN ENDLESS PATH TO ENDEAVOUR
BUT FOREVER IS A LONG LONG TIME
THERE'S NO SECRETS AND NO CORRUPTION
IN THE CENTRE OF INFINITY
THERE'S NO LIMITS IN NON-EXISTENCE
AND NO BEGINING TO MY DESTINY
IT GOES - FOREVER AND EVER
YOU THOUGHT YOU KNEW BUT YOU NEVER
THERE GOES
TOMMOROW
JOURNEY TO THE CENTRE OF ETERNITY
JOURNEY TO THE CENTRE OF ETERNITY
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stateless Bird
The retarded Freedom fighter who realized one day
his bird in the cage should get her retirement soon.
He regrets that her confinement is not fair at all.
A starry night he opened the cage door to let her fly
and he waited till morning,
but the bird still remains in the cage and twittered,
'Dear comrade now only you realized the true freedom
and you opened the door at last,
but I am not familiar with this sky.
Who is going to teach me to fly? .
Please close the door and let me leave alone
at least to get my last breath'.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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0120 Child on a swing
playground
higher and higher
the swing squeaking, creaking
but firm
the child laughing
testing the limits of freedom
the freedom of limits
sensing but forgetting
the firm post on which it swings
firm as a parent's love
unmoving stillness
the child swinging
both held in love
for Skadi meic Beorh
poem by Michael Shepherd
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After 'To Joanna
In his company Joanna laughed:
Clear she thought that he was daft
When he heard the mountains laughing
In his ravishment of mind.
Now the vicar who'd upbraided him
For carving in the rock
Upon whose meditation
The ravishment occurred,
Instead of laughing loudly
At his loftiness of word,
Smiled and looked astonished
Thinking, 'Jackass of a bird.'
Realising that he'd lost him
The poet came to earth,
Told the vicar in plain language
Of Joanna's certain anguish
As she drew into his side
For fear of something that she heard
But to which could put no word.
Now she's gone back to the city,
I miss her laughter, that's the pity.
That's why 'JOANNA'S ROCK'
Is what he's chiseled,
This jackass of a bird.
I wrote this in October-November 2011 mainly in my bed in Adelaide
after reading Wordsworth's
'To Joanna'. The thought about the jackass (kookaburra) I put into
the mind of the vicar comes from an
experience in which I was camping with a friend. Our tent blew in on us one
night and we couldn't be bothered getting out to re-erect it. Instead my friend
laughed hysterically all night. Next morning I overheard the man in the
nearby caravan muttering that if he'd had an axe he'd have killed that
laughing jackass last night.
My friend was like the poet, I was like Joanna, amused by rapture, and
the guy in the caravan was the vicar.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Eternal Freedom
They say the truth sets us free but lately it feels like it's been choking, suffocating, and binding me
Some people would describe me as free as a bird say I go with the flow, at least that's what I've heard
I hope this is just a phase because lately I've been feeling caged, I must have thought a thousand times about flying free, but somethings always been there thank God to stop me
As long as I can remember I've been in this cage as a matter of fact in this 'cage' I guess you could say I've been raised
But as the years go on I'm not gonna lie my love and need for this 'cage' has started to die and all because of my stupid desire to fly
'Why dont you just fly away free? ' You may ask me, because I'm afraid you see of what would happen if the ones I love were to catch me being something I promised I would never be
I'm afraid they'd no longer be proud of me and everything I've worked so hard for would be down the drain you see
'What is freedom? ' You may ask me, honestly I don't know none of us do really, for this whole world is caged and waiting to be set free and I long for the day when our savior will give us the key
The Key To Our Freedom Eternally
poem by Tiger Lily Love
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Time XXI
And an astronomer said, "Master, what of Time?"
And he answered:
You would measure time the measureless and the immeasurable.
You would adjust your conduct and even direct the course of your spirit according to hours and seasons.
Of time you would make a stream upon whose bank you would sit and watch its flowing.
Yet the timeless in you is aware of life's timelessness,
And knows that yesterday is but today's memory and tomorrow is today's dream.
And that that which sings and contemplates in you is still dwelling within the bounds of that first moment which scattered the stars into space.
Who among you does not feel that his power to love is boundless?
And yet who does not feel that very love, though boundless, encompassed within the centre of his being, and moving not form love thought to love thought, nor from love deeds to other love deeds?
And is not time even as love is, undivided and paceless?
But if in you thought you must measure time into seasons, let each season encircle all the other seasons,
And let today embrace the past with remembrance and the future with longing.
poem by Khalil Gibran
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After 'A Narrow Girdle of Rough Stones and Crags
In company of quite different take
The poet went out dawdling
Down by Grasmere Lake.
Dead calm the lake, no wind.
With no Joanna to mock
At the base of the rock,
All three flew fancy free,
William and Dorothy, STC,
Idled in the land of Poesy:
Osmunda fern became a Naiad Queen,
A fisherman miraged ahead
Was Freedom at his leisure.
But when up close, their fancies fled,
Self-reproach replaced their pleasure.
The fisherman was sick and gaunt,
Freedom just a taunt,
Dead the lake, no care.
POINT RASH-JUDGEMENT's what
They named the spot.
Had I put in my tuppence
The point might be COMEUPPANCE.
(STC is Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Dorothy is Wordsworth's sister)
This poem follows on from 'After 'To Joanna''
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Freedom Is…
Freedom…
Freedom…
What is freedom?
It’s a footprint in the sand…
A whisper on the wind.
It’s a thought…
An emotion.
It’s a choice…
A gift.
Freedom is what freedom is.
Freedom is a pot on the stove…
The water in a glass.
It’s a smile on a mouth…
A tear on the cheek.
It’s a choice…
A gift.
Freedom is what freedom is.
Freedom is a breeze in your hair…
The heat in the air.
It’s the heart in your chest…
The veins in your arms.
It’s a choice…
A gift.
Freedom is what freedom is.
What is freedom?
Freedom is what freedom is.
poem by Stacey Stevens
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The Flightless Bird
Slavery was the nature, caged within,
Seeing the sun rays penetrate it wonders,
Upon which strategy shall I escape this cage,
Upon which wisdom shall I,
See the sun and not the rays,
The bird with fluffy feathers did ponder,
Unto its master it cried,
Brought food but it seeked freedom,
To cage the bird was love he claimed,
To be caged, such love was hate it pondered,
Caged without hope, the flightless bird
Such freedom was vain for the bird,
That prison cell used to be a shelter,
To be loved, in a different way,
Engulfing itself in its loose wings,
Dreaming things it never saw,
Seeing life it never experienced,
Searching peace which it never had,
To rest in that moment of anguish,
The master said to cage is to love,
The bird cried to cage is to slave
My thoughts were painted all over,
Looking there, she might just cove over,
Feeling the passion when she came closer,
Will she ever set me free, in this cage I suffer
Unto to me is like a flightless bird,
Caged in vacuum I feel so bad,
To love me you ought to think instead,
To leave me you ought to think you had
The more the sky is seen,
The more the ray come unto my sight,
The more you hold the cage,
The more I desire a rescue,
Unto that day shall I wait,
To fly and see the sky and the sun
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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The Free Bird
i shall not talk about the free bird
about the cage
judge shall i not about what really
happened after
the fruition of freedom
for the bird may be free and now
flying all the corners of directions
the heavens and the
gardens and rivers of love flowing
yet on the night when it rests
upon a branch
the thought comes somehow
unavoidably
the cage though
to her a prison has sometime
in one precious moment
pure love and devotion
she once felt.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Left To Examine
People seldom select rebellion.
From a truth spoken and understood.
Yet those upset and labelled rebels,
Know too well...
They've been deceived and meant to be.
With perceptions shallow and kept to believe,
And fed to a consciousness deluded to depths.
And difficult it is to keep people like this,
Conformed to accept values distanced from reality.
Realities often thought to be militant with intent.
And long mentioned by the ones...
People decided they would choose to shun.
But themselves left to examine and now have begun,
Analyzing traditions and values with a doing done.
With a wondering of which standards to use.
Where to go and who to question,
To release them from confusion.
And self inflicting mental abuse.
Protected in historic denial hypnotized to seduce.
Left to examine...
These times.
And how will they be...
Redefined.
How will that begin to be done,
These times.
And how will they be...
Redefined.
Left to examine...
These times.
And how will they be...
Redefined.
How will that begin to be done,
These times.
And how will they affect,
Minds!
Left to examine...
In the coming of the changing times.
And...
How will that begin to be done,
In minds,
Left to examine...
In the coming of the changing times.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tribute Of The Freedom
I lie you for our freedom-
Giving salute to our ancestors
Not to make an ocean of blood
To escape from the cage of the slave-
To sing a song of my motherland-
Who says to you?
The day will not have a dawn
I lie you again for our freedom-
Every youth will sing altogether today
An anthem of the freedom
Put out the coffins of the youths.
Give me back our history
I lie you once more for our freedom.
The voice is rising up to the sky
Death or alive
We the one have give up the souls
It’s the tribute of the freedom.
poem by Kenebo Rajkumar
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Our Bird In Your Cage
we have this bird
we both own it and love it and care for it
our bird
and you have this cage
that you only own
golden, new and strong and as you say it
so reliable
that when our bird is in that cage
it will be safe
and cannot escape
we feed this bird together
and give it water and birdseeds
and a place of twigs and swing
where the bird can play
and perch upon
like it is on a tree
days and years
we keep this bird in your cage
and we see it is dying
and wanting to be free
yet you say, this sickness is just temporary
time heals what has wounded it
and shall forget the power of its wings
days and more years
we keep this bird in your cage
and i have not listened at all
to the sad song of that bird
her waning chirps
her weakened wings
her way of losing hold to the dreams of its wings
today we see this bird is dead
but you have no sadness at all
you say, you will buy another bird
again to be kept in your cage
i could have told you
i am the bird in your cage and i too have forgotten the power of
my wings
i could have told you, i have long died
and have forgotten what freedom is, what love is, what i am
in the first place. How can i ever tell you?
you are my cage.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Bird can read our mind
I was sitting on a chair,
I saw a bird,
flying in the air...
I thought,
Why this bird don't come to my house,
And make a new house of its own here...
Soon that bird came to my house,
I tried to be motionless so that it don't fly again in the air.
then I thought to catch it and to keep it in a bird cage,
and soon it flied afraidly again in the air,
then I thought,
why I thought to keep it in a bird cage forever..
poem by Arpita Kothari
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