Bohemian; A Flyleaf in the book of morals
He makes his roost on an uprooted and a flamboyant tree.
The wingless bird is longing to fly.
They divide the earth and inside the barriers build their own prisons
In different colors and shapes it seems.
They fly in dreams along the illusory sky and smile, cry, sing and dance.
The grown-up offspring struggle to flutter over their new roost.
The elders isolate in their old gloomy shacks and lament.
The dumb earth knows everything,
Yet her dialogue is a dead language in morbidity.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
A monotonous Closet Drama
We get up early in the morning.
I dropp her to work
And I too grab the struggle.
Evening when I am off
I pick her to our gloomy roost.
Take dinner and go to sleep.
I am awake in the middle of the night
And she's fast asleep on our rickety bed.
She cries and smiles in her dreams
And I am bit worried that she could have eloped with a King.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A woebegone bird watches the forest burned!
Where's that silent tall tree
Who gave us shelter free?
My offspring kept in the roost
And I flew early in the morning
To a faraway farmland!
I collected a mouthful of golden seeds for my loved ones
And on my return in the twilight the forest almost burned!
Where's my children's father and all of them burned together?
Fire has extinguished but I found only the ashes.
In the thick smoke among the debris
I sniff their fragrance but the cruel odour of wildfire
Filled my prostrated lungs.
Where do I fly in the hopeless sky and to whom I bring the food hereafter?
*Is there any Establishment not a court in this troubled World a bird could plea and do they really understand the lament?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If the building of a nest were easy, would the little ""apatipers"" bird roost in the fork of a tree?
When Your Sins Come Home to Roost
When you fear the barber’s mirror when you go to get a crop,
Or in sorrow every morning comb your hair across the top:
When you titivate and do the little things you never used—
It is close upon the season when your sins come home to roost.
Many were the sins of others and you never were to blame,
Some were sins you shared in common—you must suffer all the same;
Some were sins of wasted hours with the wine cup or a mate,
But you cannot share the burden—and they come in duplicate.
Oh! you’ll find the fowls are heavy and their claws are sharp and deep—
They will bow your head in working, they will jerk you from your sleep,
And so many hands are eager just to give your back a boost
On the road to wreck and ruin when your sins come home to roost.
But you don’t let on they’re roosting and you take some only way,
And you never whine or guzzle and you neither curse nor pray;
You will never for an instant let your lower lip be loosed—
But you stand up like a soldier when your sins come home to roost!
And you’ll find them growing lighter till you find room for a few
Of the sins of other mortals who have weaker souls than you:
Then you’ll smile, and not too sadly, at old sins reintroduced—
And you’ll be a man in many when your sins come home to roost.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Ballad of God-Makers
A bird flew out at the break of day
From the nest where it had curled,
And ere the eve the bird had set
Fear on the kings of the world.
The first tree it lit upon
Was green with leaves unshed;
The second tree it lit upon
Was red with apples red;
The third tree it lit upon
Was barren and was brown,
Save for a dead man nailed thereon
On a hill above a town.
That right the kings of the earth were gay
And filled the cup and can;
Last night the kings of the earth were chill
For dread of a naked man.
'If he speak two more words,' they said,
'The slave is more than the free;
If he speak three more words,' they said,
'The stars are under the sea.'
Said the King of the East to the King of the West,
I wot his frown was set,
'Lo; let us slay him and make him as dung,
It is well that the world forget.'
Said the King of the West to the King of the East,
I wot his smile was dread,
'Nay, let us slay him and make him a god,
It is well that our god be dead.'
They set the young man on a hill,
They nailed him to a rod;
And there in darkness and in blood
They made themselves a god.
And the mightiest word was left unsaid,
And the world had never a mark,
And the strongest man of the sons of men
Went dumb into the dark.
Then hymns and harps of praise they brought,
Incense and gold and myrrh,
And they thronged above the seraphim,
The poor dead carpenter.
'Thou art the prince of all,' they sang,
'Ocean and earth and air.'
Then the bird flew on to the cruel cross,
And hid in the dead man's hair.
'Thou art the sun of the world,' they cried,
'Speak if our prayers be heard.'
And the brown bird stirred in the dead man's hair,
And it seemed that the dead man stirred.
Then a shriek went up like the world's last cry
From all nations under heaven,
And a master fell before a slave
And begged to be forgiven.
They cowered, for dread in his wakened eyes
The ancient wrath to see;
And the bird flew out of the dead Christ's hair,
And lit on a lemon-tree.
poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Wild Knight and Other Poems (1900)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Ballad of God-Makers
A bird flew out at the break of day
From the nest where it had curled,
And ere the eve the bird had set
Fear on the kings of the world.
The first tree it lit upon
Was green with leaves unshed;
The second tree it lit upon
Was red with apples red;
The third tree it lit upon
Was barren and was brown,
Save for a dead man nailed thereon
On a hill above a town.
That night the kings of the earth were gay
And filled the cup and can;
Last night the kings of the earth were chill
For dread of a naked man.
‘If he speak two more words,' they said,
‘The slave is more than the free;
If he speak three more words,' they said,
‘The stars are under the sea.'
Said the King of the East to the King of the West,
I wot his frown was set,
‘Lo, let us slay him and make him as dung,
It is well that the world forget.'
Said the King of the West to the King of the East,
I wot his smile was dread,
‘Nay, let us slay him and make him a god,
It is well that our god be dead.'
They set the young man on a hill,
They nailed him to a rod;
And there in darkness and in blood
They made themselves a god.
And the mightiest word was left unsaid,
And the world had never a mark,
And the strongest man of the sons of men
Went dumb into the dark.
Then hymns and harps of praise they brought,
Incense and gold and myrrh,
And they thronged above the seraphim,
The poor dead carpenter.
‘Thou art the prince of all,' they sang,
‘Ocean and earth and air.'
Then the bird flew on to the cruel cross,
And hid in the dead man's hair.
‘Thou art the son of the world.' they cried, `
‘Speak if our prayers be heard.'
And the brown bird stirred in the dead man's hair
And it seemed that the dead man stirred.
Then a shriek went up like the world's last cry
From all nations under heaven,
And a master fell before a slave
And begged to be forgiven.
They cowered, for dread in his wakened eyes
The ancient wrath to see;
And a bird flew out of the dead Christ's hair,
And lit on a lemon tree.
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Colors Of The Wind
You think you own whatever land you land on
The earth is just a dead thing you can claim
But I know evry rock and tree and creature
Has a life, has a spirit, has a name
You think the only people who are people
Are the people who look and think like you
But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger
Youll learn things you never knew you never knew
Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned ?
Can you sing with all the voices of the mountain ?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ?
Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest
Come taste the sun-sweet berries of the earth
Come roll in all the riches all around you
And for once, never wonder what theyre worth
The rainstorm and the river are my brothers
The heron and the otter are my friends
In a cirle, in a hoop that never ends
Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
Or let the eagle tell you there hes been
Can you sing with all the voices of the mountain ?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ?
How high does the sycamore grow ?
If you cut it down, then youll never know
And youll never hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
For whether we are white or copper-skinned
We just sing with all the voices of the mountain
Need to paint with all the colors of the wind
You can own the earth and still
All youll own is earth until
You can paint with all colors of the wind
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Would You Like To Be?
(words & music by ben raleigh - mark barkan)
How would you like to be?
A little circus clown
And you could wear a smile
Instead of a frown
How would you like to be?
A little kangaroo
A-hoppin up and down
And I could hop with you
Come on and smile a little, smile a little
Hop a little, hop a little,
Smile a little, hop a little bit with me
Come on and smile a little, smile a little
Hop a little, hop a little,
Smile a little, hop a little bit with me
Oh ho, ha ha, a-tra la la la la la la
A ha, tra la la la la la la
How would you like to be?
A little buzzing bee
And instead of a tree
You could buzz around me
How would you like to be?
A little mocking bird
And you can sing me songs
Like I never heard
Come on and buzz a little, buzz a little
Sing a little, sing a little
Buzz a little, sing a little bit with me
Buzz, buzz, buzz a little
Do re mi a little
Buzz a little, sing a little bit with me
Oh-ho ah-ha, tra la la la la la la
Oh-ho, a-ha ,a-tra la la la la la la
How would you like to be?
A little baby bear
And you can hug me tight
Any time you care
How would you like to be?
A little dancing doll
And you could dance with me
Everytime I call
Oh-ho, tra la la la la la la
Oh-ho...ah-ah...tra la la la..la.la..la
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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London is a roost for every bird.
quote by Benjamin Disraeli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Sense Of Home.....
the chickens in the backyard
are feeding themselves freely
on the corn grits
the hen are checking her chicks
and enfolds all of them with her wings
under the mango tree
the roosters roost up the tree
settling upon a big branch
it is getting dark and a flock of sparrows
arrive and stop to take their own place
on the coconut palms
they're all home now, and then
the silence begins to hover too inside the room.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Waterhaul
Press skin into skin,
just a fraction to gather the senses.
Still locking in mine, design,
just a scrape to uncover the evidence.
You won't remove me, not anymore.
So here we are, now it's obvious.
Candle lit to divide all your areas.
And inside all your barriers,
I'm defending my lines to ignite...
And I'll be this way forever.
Inside the locks hide,
so my faith can come outside and shine.
Besides it's why all these miles of road won't divide.
You won't remove me, not anymore.
And now it's where the secret's pushed behind,
with the lanterns to burn this inside.
And up there A SNOW-CAPPED ROMANCE where,
everything we build will come from our eyes...
And I'll be this way forever.
song performed by by 36 Crazyfists
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When The Bird Calls…
When, from the blossoming apple-tree,
The singing bird calls,
With a throbbing heart you wait
For the spell – the magic words…
And you, all strewed up with sparks,
Start to seek the guelder-rose in dells,
Your heart can’t bear any longer
The grief, and the buttoned up dress…
When, from the blossoming apple-tree,
The singing bird calls,
The earth, bursting into laughter,
Spreads to you, like carpets, the roads…
The wind with the flock of sparrows
Disperses your winter sorrows,
And makes you sing out
The rose-colored dreams…
When, from the blossoming apple-tree,
The singing bird calls…When, from the blossoming apple-tree,
The singing bird calls,
With a throbbing heart you wait
For the spell – the magic words…
And you, all strewed up with sparks,
Start to seek the guelder-rose in dells,
Your heart can’t bear any longer
The grief, and the buttoned up dress…
When, from the blossoming apple-tree,
The singing bird calls,
The earth, bursting into laughter,
Spreads to you, like carpets, the roads…
The wind with the flock of sparrows
Disperses your winter sorrows,
And makes you sing out
The rose-colored dreams…
When, from the blossoming apple-tree,
The singing bird calls…
WHEN THE BIRD CALLS… ( II)
From the blossoming apple-tree,
When, the singing bird calls,
You wait with a throbbing heart
For the spell – the magic words…
And you, all strewed up with sparks,
Start to seek the guelder -rose in dells,
Your heart can’t bear any longer
The grief, and the buttoned up dress…
From the blossoming apple-tree,
When, the singing bird calls,
The earth, bursting into laughter,
Spreads to you, like carpets, the roads…
The wind with the flock of sparrows
Disperses your winter sorrows,
And makes you sing out
The rose-colored dreams…
When, from blossoming apple-tree,
poem by Tsira Gogeshvili
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From Bitterness
Spare me from bitterness,
Give me the passion to condemn
And thank at the same time.
The hills of my adulthood
Are numberless, as the numbers roost,
Humming a tune of permanency,
The numbers are from the moon.
Keep me as friend and you will see
The earth within me, as I play forever
The guardian of my fortunes,
Forgetting the world as I know it,
Futures keep on forsaking me,
Like the earth and its fiery mountains.
Forget the cruelty of judgment
For I see it in me, it is so strong.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A bird cannot roost but on one branch. a mouse can drink no more than its fill from a river.
A bird can roost but on one branch, a mouse can drink not more than its fill from a river.
Her straight face
I saw she's carrying a stainless steel cage
But none inside.
Oh! This homeless bird seeks a roost
Along this mysterious journey.
She's at the pedestrian crossing
With a white cane
And my white hope smudged instantly.
(As I know she never sees me the entire travel.)
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vermilion Pt. 2
She seemed dressed in all of me,stretched across my shame
All the torment and the pain
leaked through and coverd me
Id do anything to have her to myself
Just to have her for myself
Now I dont know what to do, dont know what to do when she makes me sad
She is everything to me
The unrequited dream
The song that no one sings
The unattainable, shes a myth that I have to believe in
All I need to make it real is one more reason
I dont know what to do, I dont know what to do when she makes me sane
But I wont let this build up inside of me
I wont let this build up inside of me
I wont let this build up inside of me
I wont let this build up inside of me
But I wont let this build up inside of me
A catch in my throat
Choke, torn into pieces, I wont
No, I dont want to be this
I wont let this build up inside of me
(Wont let this build up inside of me)
I wont let this build up inside of me
(Wont let this build up inside of me)
I wont let this build up inside of me
(Wont let this build up inside of me)
I wont let this build up inside of me
(Inside of me)
She isnt real
I can't make her real
She isnt real
I can't make her real
song performed by by Slipknot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cut & Paste
you surf tonight
you see a bungalow beside a lake
abandoned
you do not like what is happening there
the birds are mute
and the ants cannot climb the
star apple tree
so to change at least some things
you cut
the bungalow and place it beside
a rail way where a train moves
to another new destination
you want motion and
a song
you cut some notes from a music website
and put them
inside the throat of the mute bird
and so it begins
to sing
for all the lonely ants in there
and they too, begin to dance and build
their little kingdom
the bungalow appears like a some pieces
of assembled wood
dead
you paste some smoke from a busy chimney
you put some live fishes on the lake
and you look at what you have done
you smile
you are putting life to everything
and finally
you copy a picture of yourself, you cut
and then
paste it there
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Will Be Moved
Performed by mavis staples
Composed by prince
U will be moved when the baby lets out his very first cry
U will be moved when u think of how hard hell have 2 try
Hell grow up on an empty stomach, but hell try his best 2 listen
2 the teacher readin from a schoolbook with half the pages missin
Chorus:
Surely when the rain comes, u will be moved
La da da da da
See the video
U will be moved, and u will be when the baby makes all the grades
U will be moved, and u will be when they still dont hire him anyway
Moved by a system without one single guarantee
That an education is the answer and love will set us free
Chorus
Oh, u will be moved when the rain comes, oh yes, u will be moved
When the streets overflow with angry souls, thats when u see the truth
When the pain that uve inflicted comes back on your door 2 roost (back on your door 2 roost)
Thats when ull see the future (future), but u wont see u
Chorus
U will be moved when the whip comes down on the back of one of your own
U will be moved when u look 4 compassion but u find ure all alone
Moved, and u will be when u are, thats when ull know
That the bread u share is better than the blood that your deeds have caused 2 flow
(that the bread is better than the blood)
Chorus
Hey, u will be moved when the rain comes, oh yes, u will be moved
When the streets all flow with angry souls, thats when ull see the truth
When the pain that uve inflicted comes back on your door 2 roost (back on your door 2 roost)
Thats when ull see the future (future), but u wont see u
I said surely when the rain comes, u will be moved
La da da da da (la da da da da)
See the video
Hey, surely, surely, surely (when the rain comes)
Surely yall
Ow, la da da da da
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vermilion
She seems dressed in all the rings
Of past fatalaties
So fragile yet so devious
She continues to see it
Climatic hands that press
Her temples and my chest
Enter the night that she came home
Forever
Oh (She's the only one that makes me sad)
She is everything and more
The solemn hypnotic
My Dahlia, bathed in posession
She is so into me
I get neverous, perversed when I see her it's worse
But the stress is astounding
It's now or never she's coming home
Forever
Oh (She's the only one that makes me sad)
Hard to say what caught my attention
Fixed and crazy, Aphid Attraction
Carve my name in my face, to recognize
Such a pheromone cult to terrorize
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
(Yeah!)
I'm a slave, and I am a master
No restraints and, unchecked collectors
I exist throught my name, to self-oblige
She is something in me, that I despise
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
She Isn't real!
I Can't make her real!
She Isn't real!
I Can't make her real!
(She isn't real, I can't make her real)
(She isn't real, I can't make her real)
song performed by by Slipknot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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