Sky Of Heaven
My wing like shoulders were devoted to a knowledge of collection,
Tender and holy, the flight made contact with proper manufacture;
Ladies denied the tactics of the sisters, pounds of money offered
The men with wings but nobody felt satisfied with dollars.
The current prize shouted for horror assessing the honour,
This honourable person of religion flew higher than a bird of prey;
The people swayed in flight as the shoulders of a wing like nature
Welcomed courage to the air, bravery was full to the brim.
They are not books or religion entirely,
But they fly and levitate like no other person flies
Or rises into the collapsed sky of heaven.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bird's Wings
The bird's wing levels for the summation,
It dived once more but now it flies straight;
This evening is its dinner and lunch,
Killing itself and its kids, forming a nest.
The wings of an animal work for the better,
Injured ones last not, they do not last at all
For the flight of a bird is accompanied by all.
Mighty winds sever the flight so wild and free,
In order to pack the several costumes of the breeze.
Freedom comes from everything and all of our guns
Are shooting the air like a bird's flight and its freedom.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flight
When the sacred kingfisher is flying,
It is frantically flapping its wings to
The sand of the sea,
In a form of a deep curve as a rainbow.
Its flight is most like a deep, steady wing beat
To fly higher and higher.
Its wing seemingly bites the air.
So skilled at flying
Is the sacred kingfisher
And so naturally suited to the sky
That it can frantically flap its wings to
The sand of the sea.
In a form of a deep curve as a rainbow.
From that deep curve comes its screaming
And the white bleeding rain,
While the bird is frantically flapping its wings to
The sea water
To eat its silent prey
And to become a broken winged bird,
That cannot fly
Any longer.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Flightless Bird
My world is caged in,
I can not fly away,
I can not soar in the clouds,
With the wind and the angels.
I am a flightless bird with clipped wings.
I sit here day in and day out,
I watch so many people coming in and going out,
They stay here so happy so proud,
And they leave again without any care in the world.
I am a flightless bird with clipped wings.
I remember each face,
I remember them all saying hi waiting for a reply of hello,
They don’t understand how it feels,
They don’t understand what it’s like.
To be a flightless bird with clipped wings.
Wings tucked and head held high I sit here,
I wear a smile on my face and I keep myself beautiful and happy,
But inside all I can see are the bars that surround me,
I can’t get past them I can only sit.
I am a flightless bird with clipped wings.
My world is a room full of people myself the center of attention,
Although I should not complain for this is my life,
And I make them smile I make the children laugh and look in my eyes,
And sometimes they look into my eyes and see my world through my eyes.
They know I am a flightless bird with clipped wings.
They’ll stand and watch me as I walk around in my cage,
They’ll be there with me and try to understand.
Then they’ll have to leave and they’ll look over their shoulders.,
And they look into my eyes one last time,
Before they fly away into the world to bring back stories for the flightless bird with clipped wings,
They are my connection to the world,
They show me what they see through their eyes,
They show me wonders and beauties of a world I’ve never seen,
They are my window to the outside,
In their mind I can be a flightless bird in a world of wonder and of flight.
I am only a small bird in a cage that sits in a hotel,
Sits and watches as the world around me fly’s by,
I wait for the occasional stranger who looks into my eyes with knowing,
Maybe a person who is like me like a flightless bird in a cage,
They are my wings, the wings of a flightless bird who’s wings are clipped.
I sit in my own world and watch as it all moves by,
Day after day I watch and I say what is expected of me,
I sit in my world and I go on my own steady journey,
A journey in which I am a silent observer,
A flightless bird with clipped wings in a world of ever changing skies.
By: Bethany Maxwell
poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Day Of Freedom
When freedom came, the sadness went -
Weights fell off my shoulders!
The feeling then was Heaven-sent -
No more mighty boulders!
I stood up straight! I sighed then smiled!
Breathed deep! Reborn anew!
Somehow my soul felt reconciled,
My heart no longer blue...
Transformed by truth, the spirit flies -
As if on angels' wings!
No more the man who pines or cries
At what love sometimes brings...
Then clarity swept through my mind
As swift as dynamite!
The day I left my past behind
And just enjoyed the flight...
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fly
Set yourself on a movie screen
play any part or be anything
know what i mean
its all about right its all
its all about wrong
about you and me and how to get along
ya gotta wake up
work hard and take a deep breath
open your heart and never forget
ya gotta fly
break the chains that bind you to the ground and try
to let it go be happy with what you found
fly mend your broken wing so you can take flight
and if you wanna go I'll go there with ya tonight
ya gotta fly
break the chains that bind you to the ground and try
to let it go be happy with what you found
fly mend your broken wing so you can take flight
and if you wanna go I'll go there with ya tonight
ya gotta fly yah just FLY!
i remember walkin down rodeo drive
when i was younger
i used to push the limits of life
but when i grew somthing changed inside
i saw the color of money take over so many lives
i know alot of us would like to believe
but theres too many of us thats parted by prejudice
when you look in the mirror who do you see
is it somebody else
or who you really wanna be
ya gotta fly
break the chains that bind you to the ground and try
to let it go be happy with what you found
fly mend your broken wing so you can take flight
and if you wanna go I'll go there with ya tonight
ya gotta fly
break the chains that bind you to the ground and try
to let it go be happy with what you found
fly mend your broken wing so you can take flight
and if you wanna go I'll go there with ya tonight
ya gotta fly yah just FLY!
not always easy livin in a world of pain
got me running into brickwalls again and again
ya say you need a break and a change from this life
ya gotta fly
break the chains that bind you to the ground and try
to let it go be happy with what you found
fly mend your broken wing so you can take flight
and if you wanna go I'll go there with ya tonight
ya gotta fly yah just FLY!
song performed by by Dante Thomas from Fly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To a Young Poet
Time cannot break the bird's wing from the bird.
Bird and wing together
Go down, one feather.
No thing that ever flew,
Not the lark, not you,
Can die as others do.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Cuckoo
The cuckoo, like a hawk in flight,
With narrow pointed wings
Whews o'er our heads - soon out of sight
And as she flies she sings:
And darting down the hedgerow side
She scares the little bird
Who leaves the nest it cannot hide
While plaintive notes are heard.
I've watched it on an old oak tree
Sing half an hour away
Until its quick eye noticed me
And then it whewed away.
Its mouth when open shone as red
As hips upon the brier,
Like stock doves seemed its winged head
But striving to get higher
It heard me rustle and above leaves
Soon did its flight pursue,
Still waking summer's melodies
And singing as it flew.
So quick it flies from wood to wood
'Tis miles off 'ere you think it gone;
I've thought when I have listening stood
Full twenty sang - when only one.
When summer from the forest starts
Its melody with silence lies,
And, like a bird from foreign parts,
It cannot sing for all it tries.
'Cuck cuck' it cries and mocking boys
Crie 'Cuck' and then it stutters more
Till quick forgot its own sweet voice
It seems to know itself no more.
poem by John Clare
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In 1969
Some called it the Summer of Love, & although the clustered,
Motionless leaves that overhung the streets looked the same
As ever, the same as they did every summer, in 1967,
Anybody with three dollars could have a vision.
And who wouldn’t want to know what it felt like to be
A cedar waxwing landing with a flutter of gray wings
In a spruce tree, & then disappearing into it,
For only three dollars? And now I know; its flight is ecstasy.
No matter how I look at it, I also now know that
The short life of a cedar waxwing is more pure pleasure
Than anyone alive can still be sane, & bear.
And remember, a cedar waxwing doesn’t mean a thing,
Qua cedar or qua waxwing, nor could it have earned
That kind of pleasure by working to become a better
Cedar waxwing. They’re all the same.
Show me a bad cedar waxwing, for example, & I mean
A really morally corrupted cedar waxwing, & you’ll commend
The cage they have reserved for you, resembling heaven.
Some people spent their lives then, having visions.
But in my case, the morning after I dropped mescaline
I had to spray Johnson grass in a vineyard of Thompson Seedless
My father owned—& so, still feeling the holiness of all things
Living, holding the spray gun in one hand & driving with the other,
The tractor pulling the spray rig & its sputtering motor—
Row after row, I sprayed each weed I found
That looked enough like Johnson grass, a thing alive that’s good
For nothing at all, with a mixture of malathion & diesel fuel,
And said to each tall weed, as I coated it with a lethal mist,
Dominus vobiscum, &, sometimes, mea culpa, until
It seemed boring to apologize to weeds, & insincere as well.
For in a day or so, no more than that, the weeds would turn
Disgusting hues of yellowish orange & wither away. I still felt
The bird’s flight in my body when I thought about it, the wing ache,
Lifting heaven, locating itself somewhere just above my slumped
Shoulders, & part of me taking wind. I’d feel it at odd moments
After that on those long days I spent shoveling vines, driving trucks
And tractors, helping swamp fruit out of one orchard
Or another, but as the summer went on, I felt it less and less.
As the summer went on, some were drafted, some enlisted
In a generation that would not stop falling, a generation
Of leaves sticking to body bags, & when they turned them
Over, they floated back to us on television, even then,
In the Summer of Love, in 1967,
When riot police waited beyond the doors of perception,
And the best thing one could do was get arrested.
poem by Larry Levis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eagle Watch
The morning came, the eagle stirred, one leap to fly again.
The tourists smiled to watch this bird, the envy of all men.
For who has not at one time slept and sometime in the night,
Believed that if they also leapt, they, too, could rise in flight?
Within one dream, atop a hill, I ran and ran and ran...
And all at once I felt the thrill when my first flight began!
I left the hill, I left the Earth, to glide upon the sky...
It was as if my soul gave birth to something that could fly!
No holding back, I had to hurl myself upon the wave!
Like Superman and Supergirl, I flew as if by faith!
I knew just how the eagle felt, designed for higher things...
A better hand I had been dealt, transforming hands to wings!
Each time I see an eagle soar to heights beyond my eyes,
I realise what dreams are for, to simply mesmerise.
Today, each pilot flies above, content to do his best...
Just like the eagle that I love... God help them to be blessed...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Eagle Watch'.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Darkness Of Christ
Mankind in his insatiable search for divine
Knowledge has discarded all biblical teachings
Realizing that the strength of religion is the repression of knowledge
All structures of religion have collapsed
Life prays for death
in the wake of the horror of these revelations
It was never imagined how graphic the reality that would
be known as the end of creation
Would manifest itself
We believe all this chaos and atrocity can be traced
Back to one single event
We hold these truths to be painfully self-evident
All men are not created equal
Only the strong will prosper
Only the strong will conquer
Only in the darkness of Christ have I realized
God Hates Us All
song performed by by Slayer from God Hates Us All
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As Simple As That!
the bottom line is...
until we realize that
people are just people,
regardless of race, religion,
or sexual orientation...
that one person is worth just
as much as any other...
that money, or the lack of,
does not define a person,
and that we are all responsible
for each other, and to each other...
we will never be able to fix
the world's problems,
and never be able to build a tomorrow!
it's as simple as that!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Butterfly (The Mirror Sestet Poetry)
Delight adorns butterfly’s fluttering wings in flight,
Flight is his beauty for anemones to delight.
Wing flitters freely and his fragile moods can swing,
Swing dances he teaches the white flowers with his wing.
Breeze finds him out among the blooming buckeye red trees,
Trees push his innocent virgin spirit in the breeze.
Dance nurtures the flower to put her into deep trance,
Trance is his way to gather pollen for her life dance.
Dreams fiery rise in crimson, when the flower gleams,
Gleams of dawn in the east are his love powerful dreams.
Charms are her powers to spread fragrances in his arms
Arms are his wings when he flies to search for other charms.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Peaceful Warrior
His bravery is marked on the tablets in spiritual heaven,
Same ways are propounded so moderately.
The three ways are set to prosper:
Bravery, courage and valour.
This will be physically greater than the angels
That swerve their flight in divine fashion.
I own this kingdom with angels
Like a warrior superior to their rank and file.
My bravery is like his, the bravery is like his,
We are in luck so well, with this bravery.
Our souls stain the skies with blood,
And this is a red substance like the sunset,
Like the sunrise when luck is at your window.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wasteland
Out into the wasteland
Out into the wasteland
No religion
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion, no religion at all
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion at all
No religion
Emissionary man amongst the heathen
Cant you see a modern primitive
I came back, Im gonna find,
Im gonna give religion
When there was, no religion at all
Im outta the wasteland
Im into this head man
Im outta the wasteland
No religion at all
Im outta the wasteland
Im into this head man
Im outta the wasteland
No religion, no religion at all
Theres a man in need of resurrection
(no religion)
Cant you see a modern primitive
(no religion)
But Im a man I need my love and
Freedom (no religion)
When there was no freedom at all
Im outta the wasteland
Im into this head man
Im outta the wasteland
No religion at all
Im outta the wasteland
Im into this head man
Im outta the wasteland
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion at all
No religion
No religion at all
In vr land
The future of fun
Tell me what to do
In vr law
Computer crime
Um, so sublime
A fantasy scene
In my machine
Give me secret of life
Let me know, yeah, what I am
And you know that I could get
Outta the wasteland
Im into this head man
Im outta the wasteland
No religion at all
Im outta the wasteland
Im into this head man
Im outta the wasteland
No religion, no religion at all
Im outta the wasteland
So far from the the deadland
Ow, Im outta the wasteland
No religion, no religion yeah
Im outta the wasteland
So far from the the deadland
Yeah, Im outta the wasteland
No religion, no religion at all
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion, no religion at all
No religion at all
No religion at all
No religion
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Perfect Circle
Put your hair back, we get to leave
Eleven gallows on your sleeve
Shallow figure, winners paid
Eleven shadows way out of place
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room
Pull your dress on and stay real close
Who might leave you where I left off?
A perfect circle of acquaintances and friends
Drink another, coin a phrase
Heaven assumed, shoulders high in the room
Heaven assumed, shoulders high in the room
Heaven assumed, shoulders high in the room
Try to win and suit your needs
Speak out sometimes but try to win
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bird
A wounded bird stripped of flight
Upon the ground hopped and sang
A call to help a despairing plea
‘Oh please let belief bring a saviour to me’
It sang so beautifully and so sweet
While cradling its broken wing
The eyes which darted saw so much
To know and behold a world so vast
Then she came as though from nowhere
A girl with the tender touch to heal
Softly she took into her hands
And nursed so gently while she sang
‘Singer of beauty fly once more
Do not cry nor feel afraid
It is the belief you call out to
Which brought my heart to you’
Into a cage the bird was placed
And ate, sang then rested safe
The wing did heal so to fly again
She opened wide the cage
To see the bird fly away into the sky
She smiled and said goodbye
Some things are to be kept
Others are only meant to fly
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Read, Make understand & move towards yourself
God is infinite and his powers are infinite.
Everyone who reads and writes about him, only gives the reference of their mind.
Mind is changeable and what is the use to give reference of changeable things.
And it is also known that Mind never becomes of yourself.
Knowledge given by your senses is called your mind.
By means of reading some books written by famous and intelligent wirter, you got the verification of mind.
By means of some holy books, you become like a holy person.
By this, education and religion are tied in words.
Education is necessary to live simple life.
poem by sufi mohan seth Aggarwal
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The proper reply to right wing religiosity is not to insist that politics and religion don't mix. This is the stock response of the left.
quote by Christopher Lasch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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First Flight
The eagle teetered on the ledge,
Its first flight dead ahead!
Surveying all, next to the edge,
Its young heart filled with dread!
But Nature whispered on the wind,
'Just take your time, my friend...'
And though the eagle's brain still spinned,
Its fears came to an end...
Then all at once, its heart was brave
And with one single bound,
It raised itself as if by faith,
Its wings above the ground!
And off it swooped, the maiden flight,
With courage fate decreed...
And gravity soon lost the fight
With thermals to succeed!
So up it flew the thermal swirl,
Cascading now and then...
Then onward, upward, twist and twirl,
Till coasting once again...
But, oh, the flying! That's first rate!
Although it feels so rash...
Of course, the landing's not that great,
First time it's with a crash!
To think, each eagle's forced to learn,
To wing-it, as it were...
And just like others, take its turn,
So miracles occur!
Who knows how high the eagles fly?
I'm jealous as can be!
But I'm no angel, just a guy...
I'll stick to poetry...
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2011.
poem by Denis Martindale
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In other words, a person who is fanatic in matters of religion, and clings to certain ideas about the nature of God and the universe, becomes a person who has no faith at all.
quote by Alan Watts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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