Helplessness
The bird of heart,
Swooped and swooped,
Exhausted in flights,
Its wings are now conked out,
For branch to branch it nestled,
Farm to farm it picked the grain,
Place to place it slaked hunger,
The world is a delusion,
Flights plucked out its feathers,
No plunge proved resultant,
All around death dances,
Time worn out the extremities,
Who should in the mortal world,
Contest wrestle against time.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Related quotes
Death's Wings
Death was a bird that night
An ugly, vicious bird
Death's claws scratched at me
But flew away when I didn't bleed.
As it flew, darkness fell
Wings blocking out the moon.
Death screetched in frustration
When it couldn't break my skin
Death was too obvious
And realised.
Death swooped low that night
And caught her by suprise
Not a sound left its beak, nor her mouth
And death was silently satisfied.
To strike again was simple
Death had learnt a new trick.
And so began a time
That death shed its feathers.
poem by Danielle Guscott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Farm
There┬┤s a cockroach in my coffee
There┬┤s a needle in my arm
And I feel like New York City
Get me to the farm
Get me to the farm
Get me to the farm
Somebody get me to the farm
I got terminal uniqueness
I'm an egocentric man
I get caught up in my freakness
But I ain┬┤t no Peter Pan
Get me to the farm
Get me to the farm
Get me to the farm
Get me...
Buckle up straight Jack
Sanity is such a drag
Jellybeam thorazene
Trancendental jet lag
Sanity I ain┬┤t gotta
Feeling like a pinala
Sucker punch-blowin┬┤lung
Motherload-pigeonholed
I'm feeling like I'm gonna explode
I wanna be a Hare Krishna
Tattoo a dot right on my head
And the prozac is my fixer
I am the living dead
Take me to the farm
Take me to the farm
Somebody take me to the farm
Somebody take me to the farm
Take me to the farm
Take me to the farm
Somebody take me to the farm
Somebody take me to the farm
Take me to the farm
Take me to the farm
Take me to the farm...
Take me to the farm
Take me to the farm
Somebody take me to the farm
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Life Without Money!
Could it be possible to live without money?
Why can’t man live without money in the world?
Long back I saw an African movie about this;
It is called “Gods Must Be Crazy! ”
One can get the idea to live without money!
Even today people are living life in farm houses
Far away from the civilised world of materialism
Without needing money for any purpose there!
In the forest and farm houses far away from towns
Life of the people needs no money at all it seems!
We can live without money but not without hunger!
Nature has given hunger and also all things to survive;
It is man’s own creation to live as slaves of comforts
In the world where nothing is permanent in time bound life!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Nite Flights
Theres no hold
The moving has come through
The danger passing you
Turns its face into the heat and runs the tunnels
Its so cold
The dog dug up fine dogs
The stiches torn and broke
The wrong lick fist you choke has hit the blood light
Glass traps opened and close on nite flights
Broken necks, feather plates pressed and warped
Be my love, we will be gods on nite flights
With only one promise, only one way to fall
Glass traps opened and close on nite flights
Broken necks feather ways press the walls
Be my love, we will be gods on nite flights
With only one promise, only one way to call
On nite flights
On nite flights
Only one way to fall
On nite flights
On nite flights
On nite flights
Only one way to fall
Ah ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah ah
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poems Are The Sparrows
Poems are the sparrows,
Swing they branch to branch,
In the green tree of poetry,
They chirp and pick the grain,
Of diction, thoughts, metaphors,
And bring in their beaks,
The straws of meters,
And thorns of realities.
Poems are the Sparrows,
Build their nests place to place,
In the valleys of poetic minds,
To lay and hatch eggs of wisdom,
Awake they early in the morn,
To sing hymn, when gently
Breeze begins to blow, to and fro.
The sparrows chirp in my heart,
And when hiding behind the tassels,
Extend I my hand to them to catch,
They fly away; and when I scatter
The grain, they cluster around me,
To sing the chorus of love and peace,
My restless heart then pours
Them on pages of the book,
And the starving ears become,
Impatient to listen to the honeyed,
Lines of love.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hard Times
Music is silenced, the dark descending slowly
Has stripped unending skies of all companions.
Weariness grips your limbs and within the locked horizons
Dumbly ring the bells of hugely gathering fears.
Still, O bird, O sightless bird,
Not yet, not yet the time to furl your wings.
It's not melodious woodlands but the leaps and falls
Of an ocean's drowsy booming,
Not a grove bedecked with flowers but a tumult flecked with foam.
Where is the shore that stored your buds and leaves?
Where the nest and the branch's hold?
Still, O bird, my sightless bird,
Not yet, not yet the time to furl your wings.
Stretching in front of you the night's immensity
Hides the western hill where sleeps the distant sun;
Still with bated breath the world is counting time and swimming
Across the shoreless dark a crescent moon
Has thinly just appeared upon the dim horizon.
-But O my bird, O sightless bird,
Not yet, not yet the time to furl your wings.
From upper skies the stars with pointing fingers
Intently watch your course and death's impatience
Lashes at you from the deeps in swirling waves;
And sad entreaties line the farthest shore
With hands outstretched and crooning 'Come, O come!'
Still, O bird, O sightless bird,
Not yet, not yet the time to furl your wings.
All that is past: your fears and loves and hopes;
All that is lost: your words and lamentation;
No longer yours a home nor a bed composed of flowers.
For wings are all you have, and the sky's broadening countryard,
And the dawn steeped in darkness, lacking all direction.
Dear bird, my sightless bird,
Not yet, not yet the time to furl your wings!
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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I Aint Gonna Work On Maggies Farm No More
(bob dylan)
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I wake up every morning
Hold my hands and pray for rain
Ive got a head full of ideas
Driving me insane
Its a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor
Well, I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
Well, I aint gonna work for maggies brother no more
I aint gonna work for maggies brother no more
He hands you a nickel
He hands you a dime
He asks you and your friends
If youre having a good time
He blames you every time you slam the door
Well, I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
Well, I aint gonna work for maggies pa no more
I aint gonna work for maggies pa no more
He stubs his cigarette out in your face just for kicks
His bedroom window is made out of bricks
And the national guard are standing at his door
Well, I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
Well, I aint gonna work for maggies mother no more
I aint gonna work for maggies mother no more
She talks to all the servants about man and God and law
And everybody swears shes the brains behind pa
Shes sixty-eight, but claims shes twenty-four
Well, I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
Well, I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I try so hard to be just who I am
But everybody wants you to be just like them
They say see, while youre playing I get bored ? ?
Well, I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Because I Am Free
because i am free i invoke the wind in me
and because i have the wind
i call the bird in me
the wings i have
and because i have the wings now i must say
adieu
to you and them and everyone of you
those that still have the looks of surprise and amazement
bedazzled and puzzled i must confess that i
do not belong here in this place of
too much ordinariness because i am free because i am the wind
because i have my wings and now you pray before i leave and fly away
that i may tell you
on which part of my body
have i learned to fold the obstructions of my arms
do not imitate me do not attempt to find the secrets of my
capacity for flights
did i not tell you that my father is an eagle?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Degrees Of Unfreedom...
1. caught
a bird inside your hand
2.released
inside a cage and hangs
on a beam
at the side of the road
3.well feed with
grains
4. starts to sing
inside the cage
5. feathers fall
and unlearned
flights
6. so many thoughts
about bird-lands
7.death
8. no one sees
the spirit getting
out of the body
of the bird
9. into another plane
another cage
10. back to one
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hypnagogic
a woman dreams that she turns
into an orange bird
and on the other hand the orange
bird seeing her so beautiful and complete
less the orange wings and feathers
dreams of having woman-hands
soft and a flowing body like a slender
river curving through along
the side of a big mountain where
the orange bird perches on a branch
of an olive tree beside it
convoluted, the thoughts unwind
themselves in sleep wanting rest
from all these warping of time
and seasons and images and swapping
between reality and dream
surreal and mundane
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Put A Little Love In Your Heart
Think of your fellow man
Lend him a helping hand
Put a little love in your heart
You see its getting late
Oh, please dont hesitate
Put a little love in your heart
And the world will be a better place
And the world will be a better place
For you and me
You just wait and see
Another day goes by
And still the children cry
Put a little love in your heart
If you want the world to know
We wont let hatred grow
Put a little love in your heart
And the world will be a better place
And the world will be a better place
For you and me
You just wait and see, wait and see
Take a good look around
And if youre lookin down
Put a little love in your heart
And I hope when you decide
Kindness will be your guide
Put a little love in your heart
And the world will be a better place
And the world will be a better place
For you and me
You just wait and see
Put a little love in your heart
Each and every day
Put a little love in your heart
Theres got to be a better way
Put a little love in your heart
Dont you think its time we start
Put a little love in your heart
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Place
There is a place
In my heart that still dances
A place in my soul that sings
- And sings, and dances and dances -
A place so deep, so set
A place that even the mundane drudgery
The routine day-to-day
Can not kill
A place so close, so distant
A place that was, and is yet to come
A place where belief originates and lives
The birth place of
The most human humanity
The most divine divinity
A place where
Majesty, mystery and magic still speak
A place of all origins.
Some will not hear it any longer.
But, I still listen...
Waiting... hoping... trusting...believing...
The Place... is real.
It's way out there - it's everywhere...
It is ever within.
This Place... is my place.
It has called to me by name
Since the day of birth,
It's name is simple and profound;
I call him
Jesus.
He calls me
'My child.'
It's to him we go.
It's for us he came.
He is where I belong.
I am always on the Way
To the Place
Where he is.
The Place... home.
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mocking Bird
Dark as dungeon, rough as the sea
don't provoke my tolerance, you hardly know me...
Broken are my feathers... a bird that cannot fly
just your words are enough to make me cry.
Nestled in your own world, the feathers keep you warm
my life is a struggle.... I'm still fighting the storm
your given hand of friendship and floating views i see
Are enough to kill a mocking bird and set her free
poem by Meena Mustafa
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Juniors Farm
You should have seen me with the pocker man,
I had a honey and I bet a grand,
Just in the nick of time I looked at his hand.
I was talking to an eskimo,
Said he was hopping for a fall of snow,
When up popped a sea lion ready to go.
Lets go, lets go, lets go, lets go
Down to juniors farm where I want to lay low,
Low life, high life, oh, lets go,
Take me down to juniors farm.
At te houses of parliament
Evrybodys talking bout the president,
We all chip in for a bag of cement.
Olly hardy should have had more sense,
He bought a gee-gee and he jumped the fence,
All for the sake of a couple of pence.
I took my bag into a grocers store,
The price is higher than the time before,
Old mand asked me why is it more.
I said you should have seen me with the poker man,
I had a honey and I bet a grand,
Just in the nick of time I looked at his hand.
Lets go, lets go, lets go, lets go
Down to juniors farm where I want to lay low,
Low life, high life, oh, lets go,
Take me down to juniors farm,
Lets go, lets go, down to juniors farm where I want to lay low.
Low life, high life, oh, lets go,
Take me down to juniors farm
Evrybody tag along.
Take me down to juniors farm
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Animal Farm
This world is big and wild and half insane
Take me where real animals are playing
Just a dirty old shack
Where the hound dogs bark
That we called our home
I want to be back there
Among the cats and dogs
And the pigs and the goats
On animal farm
My animal home
On animal farm
My animal home
While I lay my head upon my pillow
Little girl, come play beneath my window
Though shes far from home
She is free from harm
And she need not fear
She is by my side
And the sky is wide
So let the sun shine bright
On animal farm
My animal home
On animal farm
My animal home
Girl, its a hard, hard world, if it gets you down
Dreams often fade and die in a bad, bad world
Ill take you where real animals are playing
And people are real people not just playing
Its a quiet, quiet life
By a dirty old shack
That we called our home
I want to be back there
Among the cats and dogs
And the pigs and the goats
On animal farm
My animal home
On animal farm
My animal home
On animal farm
Animal farm
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Same Place, Same Time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
The coffee’s hot
And the company is good
Conversation flows, as it should
A joke or two
And when all is said and done
We’re right back to where we begun
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
These crowded streets
I balance tight roped on the curb
Car screeches past, a scream is heard
De ja vu
Yes I’ve been here before
Time moves slowly as traffic stalls
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Break
It was good
You were sublime
I’m so glad that we spent the time
Time is short
What we have is rare
Love is oxygen with you there
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Copyright 2006 (updated 2010)
poem by Colin Coplin
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Branches In Time
A young tender
branch
is easily bent
into submission.
As time goes
by
maturity begins
to set in
the branch
grows stronger.
With each passing
day
she becomes able to
carry the leaves
attached
Until one day
raising her arms
high into the sky
a mature branch
emerges
refusing to bend
anymore.
poem by Heather Burns
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Down On The Funny Farm
Down on the Funny Farm
where some say I was born
where laughter is the key
that trips a smile
to whoever visits there.
There is no time
to feel moody or forlorn,
not with a crazy sod like me around.
Howls of laughter echo
from every room.
Now even the animals
have joined in the game
at our home the Funny Farm,
the place some say I was born.
poem by David Harris
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A Lonely Bird On The Electric Wire
this afternoon i take a walk leading to the farm
it is harvest time
and i see the harvesters cutting the rice stalks filled with golden grains
they would group what they gather at a certain place
mounds and mounds of rice grains this time of a bumper year
on the other side are carabaos grazing
lots of grass to graze adding the recently cut rice stalks
i look at the clouds white and blue and shades of both
my attention is however caught by a single bird perched on the electrical wire connecting two poles about 30 meters apart
it is alone there
and i move closely to see whether it is really a bird
indeed it is one of the sparrows in the ricefield
but so unlike the rest it
it is sitting there alone.
our eyes met.
and i tell my wife about this lonely bird.
she says i am just making a metaphor
i sit alone in my garden now after dining
and i wonder if the bird flew back to its nest or to some territory of its own
where their species also live
and i wonder if the bird must be also telling the other birds that it saw
a man walking alone on that path leading to the farm
and unlike other men he prefers to walk alone
and i also think that perhaps the bird would also take issue about the fact that indeed
our eyes met
and i know the other birds would say
that it is nothing but also a sort of metaphor and to the least that
it is nothing but a kind of fable.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ain't Gonna Work On Your Farm No More
I ain’t gonna work on your farm no more
I ain’t gonna scrub all your floors,
I ain’t gonna take all your friends who ignore
what I do when they hide behind doors
where they pay no attention to stuff that I think,
and say, when they pay me a dime,
that I ain’t entitled to spend it on drink,
or ladies who show me good time.
I ain’t gonna work for your children or friends
who preach of the law and the Lord,
and hear all those messages God never sends
to people with who He is bored,
like I am. I ain’t gonna work on your farm,
instead I will write me a song,
and pray that its words will all sound the alarm,
for I expect to be back before long.
Mark Z. Barabak (“He’s Digging ‘Farm, ’” LA Times, June 26,2008) writes that Barack Obama’s favorite Bob Dylan song is “Maggie’s Farm, ” performed in 1995 at the Newport Festival, when he turned electric and never looked back:
I AIN’T GONNA WORK ON MAGGIE’S FARM NO MORE
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
I wake up every morning
hold my hands and pray for rain
I've got a head full of ideas
driving me insane
It's a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor
well, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
Well, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more
He hands you a nickel
he hands you a dime
He asks you and your friends
if you're having a good time
He blames you every time you slam the door
Well, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
Well, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's Pa no more
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's Pa no more
He stubs his cigarette out in your face just for kicks
his bedroom window is made out of bricks
And the National Guard are standing at his door
well, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
Well, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's mother no more
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's mother no more
She talks to all the servants about man and God and law
and everybody swears she's the brains behind Pa
She's sixty-eight, but claim's she's twenty-four
well, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
Well, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
I try so hard to be just who I am
but everybody wants you to be just like them
They say 'see, while you're playing I get bored'? ?
well, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
6/26/08
poem by Gershon Hepner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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