The Ostrich
The ostrich roams the great Sahara.
Its mouth is wide, its neck is narra.
It has such long and lofty legs,
I'm glad it sits to lay its eggs.
poem by Ogden Nash
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Tea In The Sahara
My sisters and i
Have the wish before we die
And it may sound strange
As if our minds are deranged
Please dont ask us why
Beneath the sheltering sky
We have this strange obsession
You have the means in your possession
Tea in the sahara with you
Tea in the sahara with you
The young man agreed
He would satisfy their need
So they danced for this pleasure
With a joy you could not measure
They would wait for him here
The same place every year
Beneath the sheltering sky
Across the desert he would fly
Tea in the sahara with you
Tea in the sahara with you
Tea in the sahara with you
Tea in the sahara with you
The sky turned to black
Would he ever come back
They would climb a high dune
They would pray to the moon
But hed never return
So the sisters would burn
As their eyes searched the land
With their cups still full of sand
Tea in the sahara with you
Tea in the sahara with you
Tea in the sahara with you
Tea in the sahara with you
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He "Digesteth Harde Yron"
Although the aepyornis
or roc that lived in Madagascar, and
the moa are extinct,
the camel-sparrow, linked
with them in size--the large sparrow
Xenophon saw walking by a stream--was and is
a symbol of justice.
This bird watches his chicks with
a maternal concentration-and he's
been mothering the eggs
at night six weeks--his legs
their only weapon of defense.
He is swifter than a horse; he has a foot hard
as a hoof; the leopard
is not more suspicious.How
could he, prized for plumes and eggs and young
used even as a riding-beast, respect men
hiding actor-like in ostrich skins, with the right hand
making the neck move as if alive
and from a bag the left hand strewing grain, that ostriches
might be decoyed and killed!Yes, this is he
whose plume was anciently
the plume of justice; he
whose comic duckling head on its
great neck revolves with compass-needle nervousness
when he stands guard,
in S-like foragings as he is
preening the down on his leaden-skinned back.
The egg piously shown
as Leda's very own
from which Castor and Pollux hatched,
was an ostrich-egg.And what could have been more fit
for the Chinese lawn it
grazed on as a gift to an
emperor who admired strange birds, than this
one, who builds his mud-made
nest in dust yet will wade
in lake or sea till only the head shows.
. . . . . . .
Six hundred ostrich-brains served
at one banquet, the ostrich-plume-tipped tent
and desert spear, jewel-
gorgeous ugly egg-shell
goblets, eight pairs of ostriches
in harness, dramatize a meaning
always missed by the externalist.
The power of the visible
is the invisible; as even where
no tree of freedom grows,
so-called brute courage knows.
Heroism is exhausting, yet
it contradicts a greed that did not wisely spare
the harmless solitaire
or great auk in its grandeur;
unsolicitude having swallowed up
all giant birds but an alert gargantuan
little-winged, magnificently speedy running-bird.
This one remaining rebel
is the sparrow-camel.
poem by Marianne Moore
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Tea In The Sahara
My sisters and i
Have this wish before we die
And it may sound strange
As if our minds are deranged
Please dont ask us why
Beneath the sheltering sky
We have this strange obsession
You have the means in your possession
We want our tea in the sahara with you
We want our tea in the sahara with you
The young man agreed
He would satisfy their need
So they danced for his pleasure
With a joy you could not measure
They would wait for him here
The same place every year
Beneath the sheltering sky
Across the desert he would fly
Tea in the sahara with you
Tea in the sahara with you
The sky turned to black
Would he ever come back?
They would climb a high dune
They would pray to the moon
But hed never return
So the sisters would burn
As their eyes searched the land
With their cups full of sand
Tea in the sahara with you
Tea in the sahara with you
Tea in the sahara with you
Tea in the sahara with you
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beauty is described
She is a beauty
Whose mouth is as wide as a python’s,
Whose nose is as sharp as a sparrow’s
Whose neck is long as a peacock’s
Whose mane is as dense as a lion’s
Whose hip is as broad as a duck’s
And whose legs are as tall as a crane’s,
What about her breasts?
Any shape; breasts themselves are beauty
For men, who’d been denied enough feeding.
01.12.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Hen and the Wren
The lovely, laying hen said to the itsy-bitsy wren.
'Good morning. It's nice to see you now and then.'
The itsy-bitsy wren said, 'Thank you Mrs. Hen.
I haven't seen you for awhile and don't remember when.'
The laying hen said to the itsy-bitsy wren, 'If you recall,
The last time we were together was a bit before last fall.'
The wren smiled and said, 'Oh yes I should have guessed.
It's spring again so I'm back to build another nest.'
The hen said, 'Soon we both will be sitting on our eggs.
Not long after that there'll be babies ‘neath our legs.'
The itsy-bitsy wren said, 'I wish my eggs weren't so small.
Your eggs are so large that your babies will be tall.'
Well the lovely laying hen said, 'Your eggs are just right.
And that song you sing brings everyone delight.'
From spring to fall wherever hens and wrens reside,
There'll be nests, eggs and babies chirping far and wide.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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We have no faith in ourselves. I have never met a woman who, deep down in her core, really believes she has great legs. And if she suspects that she might have great legs, then she's convinced that she has a shrill voice and no neck.
quote by Cynthia Heimel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The lofty legs are the beauty.
Short legs and short waist are the ducks.
Long legs and short waists are the geese.
Short legs and long waists are the penguins.
Lofty legs without waists are cranes
Who is graceful?
The crane stands out; the tall woman stands out.
29.04.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Frog's Life
Once upon a lily pad,
There sat a mother frog
Hungry for some food,
She hopped from log to log
Eating flies and skeeters,
All throughout the day
Worms weren’t quite as good,
But she ate them anyway
She found a comfy spot,
And laid a bunch of eggs
Then hopped away from the nest,
With a push from her back legs
The eggs turned into tadpoles,
That swam around the pond
They started growing legs,
And turned into tiny frogs
poem by Chris Marion
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Eggxample
What came first chickens or eggs?
Chickens of course!
Chickens have legs!
Chickens have feathers,
Eggs have a shell,
How would you like your eggs, done well?
This may be a 'yolk',
But consider it folk!
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Minstrel Man
Because my mouth
Is wide with laughter
And my throat
Is deep with song,
You do not think
I suffer after
I have held my pain
So long?
Because my mouth
Is wide with laughter,
You do not hear
My inner cry?
Because my feet
Are gay with dancing,
You do not know
I die?
poem by Langston Hughes
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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His Pasture And Her Searches
The tumult of the city,
The sounds of the drivers,
The noise of the children,
And the waves of the ocean!
He roams the hills for his pasture;
But, she searches every green thing for her lover! !
And the wings of the ostrich wave proudly around them,
But they cannot be compared with the pinions and the feathers of the stock.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I Was Not... When I Purchased
I, in front of beautiful shop
Surrounded by a friend's call
Came to purchase
With all my motivating will.
Searching for purchasing center
With my hands on nearby shoulders
Seeing friends' face fixed near me
Seem to be sown together.
Went inside and saw it
Suspected for comfort
Went near with my friends
Touched and checked its toughness.
It's long as giraffe's neck
It's slim as flamingo's neck
It had four legs as alien
It had a bend like duck's neck.
It's colored blue as sky
It's striped as zebra
I saw it and began to cry
But it seemed to be lending hands to try.
I took it to be my friend and tried
And moved my legs to take a step
Both of my friends' shoulders moved away
And said with care' hold the stick properly'.
I was not happy when I purchased
Anyway got third leg to walk forward.
poem by JothiLakshmi Kannan
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Diff'rent
It's a half diff'rent world in the sufferin' south...
Like the snuff-stained lip of your Grandpappy's mouth!
There's Dinner-on-the-Grounds with Daddy Long-legs
Crawlin' up and down Miss Ducey's deviled eggs!
Though the hair-dos change and the century has turned,
There are flies unswatted and crosses unburned...
Foghorn-Leghorn preacher spews hate around-the-clock,
And all his prayerful hens seem spellbound by the cock.
'Sir, are you implyin'? Best wash that dirty mouth! '...
Try some soap for supper in your sufferin' south!
Hear the porch-swing slander: a mother-in-law tongue...
The homophobic germs are passed down to her young.
The buttermilk biscuits, the bloated home-town pride,
The sport of queer-bashin'... the gay-teen suicide.
But drunk/horny jocks know 'a-mouth-is-still-a-mouth'...
In the whole diff'rent world of my sufferin' south!
poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
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Foreign Children
Little Indian, Sioux, or Crow,
Little frosty Eskimo,
Little Turk or Japanee,
Oh! don't you wish that you were me?
You have seen the scarlet trees
And the lions over seas;
You have eaten ostrich eggs,
And turned the turtle off their legs.
Such a life is very fine,
But it's not so nice as mine:
You must often as you trod,
Have wearied NOT to be abroad.
You have curious things to eat,
I am fed on proper meat;
You must dwell upon the foam,
But I am safe and live at home.
Little Indian, Sioux or Crow,
Little frosty Eskimo,
Little Turk or Japanee,
Oh! don't you wish that you were me?
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Simplistic Is Adorned Beauty
Simplistic is adorned beauty.
And it does not require definition,
To capture the attention it beholds.
No lips can find the words to explain.
Or come together to close...
From a mouth gaped and opened wide.
It is appreciated for what it is,
By those who agree...
This is rare beauty.
And not one walk down the halls of ivy,
Is a prerequisite to comprehend the magnificence of it.
It is as it is to exist.
And followed for as long as it allows.
'OUCH! '
Pillars of concrete are made to uphold foundations.
As you have learned!
However,
They are not easy to walk through.
Nor do they bend with flexibility for those with eyes focused,
Elsewhere!
'My thoughts escaped me momentarily.'
You're kidding?
I'm glad mouth-to-mouth resuscitation was not involved in this!
Are you okay?
You've got a big knot growing on the side of your head.
I think I shall call it, 'The Knot of Knowledge'.
No need to stare at me.
I caution you...
I am aware my light blinds,
If the gaze is held for too long!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An Expression That Just Can't Be True
Like an ostrich just bury your head in the snow...
'Wait a minute that bird doesn't do that.'
Are you sure?
Are you absolutely certain?
I mean have you ever even seen an ostrich in the snow?
'Well no, but..'
But what?
Tell me then how exactly you know?
Are you a bird expert who has put an ostrich in an environment that it's not native too?
You know that's a cruel thing to do.
'No I'm just telling you that is something they do not do.
'Just listen for once in your life because I think your confused.'
Nah I'm not.
Expressions so old can become stale and rot.
So I'm seeking my own refuge.
A camp of new realities and dimensions.
All each with their own intention.
A deluge of ideas to portray a different existence of each and every day.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Kitchen Pride....Adult Humour
Tickle my fancy as free as a bird
Stripped of her feathers, or so I've heard
Lace she in daisy chains and ring
'Er neck
With splintering smiles upon
Break.... fast eggs
(All yolks aside)
A messy contortionist has no pride
Twiddle your thumbs and smile at the mess
Feathers and flour upon my...
(oooeeer must i confess!)
Free range
Organically led
Steer well clear from the hospital bed
Skid pon the lino doused in Ribena
Then smile at her spirit
(my have you seen her!)
Free as an ostrich gallumphing in pride
Behind the fridge freezer
Her warming (bestest side)
poem by Karen Sinclair
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The Vine
The wine of Love is music,
And the feast of Love is song:
And when Love sits down to the banquet,
Love sits long:
Sits long and arises drunken,
But not with the feast and the wine;
He reeleth with his own heart,
That great, rich Vine.
poem by James Thomson
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His Case
tomorrow did not come
he waits
but tomorrow never came
he sits and claims
the benefit of patience
the past sits beside him
enumerating
all the stories of regrets
today is mindless
it laughs and shows nothing
but indifference and
then it tells him
that on the next minute
it will leave him
no wonder he calls the
long name of the rope
befriends it
and then gently he wraps
it around his naked neck
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Just Got Back
Words and music by rick nielsen
Well just got back
Been gone too long
Wasnt my idea, didnt pull the trigger
Oh oh oh I i I Im just so glad
Im just so glad to be back home, yeah
I just got back
Been a long long time
Wasnt my idea, didnt point the finger
Oh oh oh I i I Im just so glad
Im just so glad to go home
You run the risk of falling
With some solitary sam
Ive sailed the seven sins a poly-future plan
A. paul calypso
Isnt really what it seems
This aint committee art
My god, is it a dream?
I just got back
I been asleep too long
Wasnt my idea what the doctor figured
Oh oh oh I i I Im just so glad
Im just so glad, Im just so glad, Im just so glad
To be back home
No no no no no no no no
Im just so glad
No no no no no no no no
Im just so glad
song performed by by Cheap Trick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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