Alienated...
it's like a bird
with red plumes
and blue beak and
golden claws
its song is
heavenly
more than an angelic
voice
of a seraphim's
it is hunted
always hunted-
you can always see it from
afar
it can sense the danger of you
coming near it
to catch it and tell yourself
and the
other hunters
that
you love it
so dearly
that you will risk your life
just to
put it in your
cage
it hears each step
when you think about
a capture
it
it is finally gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unable To Fly
I was once like a little bird
Caught by your hidden trap
Surrender unto you like a prey
Bleeding weakly with fright
Brought me to your home with pride
All day and night you cared
Healed those wounds beneath my wings
Built me a cage made of gold
Awaken me with the pat of love
Taught me how to sing of thanks
Many days have passed
I’ve been a joy in your life
And so you forgot who I was
Who I am and what I long outside
Forgotten that I’m prisoner of love
Though you treated me so kind
I want to be free, a bird of flight
I am eager to try if I can fly
Use my wings under the golden light
Soar into the blue sky, I will arise
And from my cage you let me free
But with claws so weak to grip
With wings unrehearsed to fly
I fainted in this frightful flight
So I find way back to your arms
I don’t know if I’ll be mad at you
Cease to sing to make you blue
‘Cause you deprived my right to fly
All my life I will be a parasite
For without you I cannot survive
poem by Rose de Ramar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Beautiful Bird That Cannot Escape From The Cage
there is a beautiful bird caged in my house
its flumes are red
its beak of course is black
its claws neat and clean
and cannot scratch
its eyes blank
its feathers dull
(perhaps she is bored to death
but she is still that beautiful bird caged in the heart
of my house)
when she sings
usually in the night before everyone sleeps
everyone hears
what sadness lies in the heart of its
throat
i know that it wants to escape from the cage in the heart of the house
but someone more cruel
wants it caged
forever
there is a beautiful red bird caged in my heart
i want it set free
she understands it well
she wants to be free
i know it too well
but things will just be what it is
there is nothing we can do
she is the beautiful red feathered bird caged
and shall never be free
like the stairs, like the walls, like the beams like the stars
shall this red bird be.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Hunted Child
Verse 1
(today in los angeles another youth loses his life. gunshot wound to
The head. street violence is at an all-time high)
No jokin, Im sleepin with my eyes open
Wanted for a homicide ride, the guns still smokin
Didnt know what I was doin but did it anyway
Now the posses on my trail, they say Im gonna pay (run!)
I had a gun, its mine and I packed it
Out with my crew, the boys caught some static
Me and this sucker punk went at it
Bang! nine automatic
Hunted child
Im the hunted child
Verse 2
(sources say the assailant was 17-years old and lives in south-central
Los angeles)
Now Im on a hideout tip cos theyre after me
Lapd says theyre gonna capture me
Was I crazy? I guess I had to be
Cos once you kill its instant catastrophe
Your whole life is over (through!)
Forget about your girl your (crew!)
Nowhere to run, so what you gonna do?
Be glad its me, homeboy, and not you
The hunted child
Im the hunted child
Hunted child
Im the hunted child
Verse 3
Im only 17, I didnt mean to kill, man
But I was slangin and bangin for the thrill, man
When they said (kill!) I felt chill, man
But once I pulled the trigger, boy, then things got ill, man
My homeboys dipped out the back fast
Left me alone in the echo of the gun blast
Everybody saw my face, I didnt wear a mask
You wanna know my name? just ask
The hunted child
Im the hunted child
Hunted child
Im the hunted child
(the science of capitalism which you teach to the youth on the streets
Today with the ends justifying the means mentality aint happenin)
Verse 4
Im sweatin heavy cos my face is on tv
Everybody in this whole worlds after me
Since I was young I never had a damned thing
At christmas time Id hate to hear the bells ring
Cos in the ghetto santa aint got a dime
Your mothers standin in the welfare line
The way the youth survive is crime
My life is over so I might as well speak my mind
I killed a brother cos this system had me geared to kill
Cos what I call home you call hell
My ghetto quarters aint no better than a jail cell
But theres a message in this story that Im tryna tell
Were just brothers on the streets killin brothers
This system has us geared to kill one another
Sellin dope to poison each other
The plan of the man, word to the mother
But Im a sucker cos I fell into their plan
187, I killed a brother man
My life on earth was hell, you understand?
But when I die Im goin to hell again
Im the hunted child Im the hunted child Im the hunted child the
Hunted child
Im the hunted child
Im the hunted child
song performed by by Ice T
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Because It Sings....
there is a man inside the cage
but you cannot tell that he is a man
because
by all appearances of it
it has black wings, sharp claws, it is muted
by a beak
it can only sing in syllables
it is wrapped by
shiny feathers
it is a bird, a black bird and by all means
you cannot tell
that it is angry
because it sings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Toucth Of Love
heart was
hunted
for love...
love hunted
was
touch...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Your Bird Cage
If I were a little bird,
Would you play with
me?
Catch me for your cage,
Hold me tenderly.
Someday, place me safely
there,
In your cage, without a care.
Find a blanket oh so warm,
To protect me from lifes
storm.
One day when its hot and
dry,
Provide a drink, so I won't
cry.
Always help to quench my
thurst,
So my little tummy won't
burst.
Give me love each day through,
This I will return to you.
In the bird cage of your
heart,
This little bird, will not
depart.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beak Kind To Birds!
Beak kind to birds both near and far,
Both high and low as well...
To me, each bird's a superstar!
In fact, to me, they're swell!
Beak kind to birds and show you care
With titbits now and then...
And watch with wonder as they share
Their breakfast once again!
Beak kind and keep your cats at bay...
Else feeding birds take flight!
It's nicer seeing birds at play
Than watching them take fright!
Beak kind to birds, give them their space
So they may co-exist...
For none on Earth can take their place,
So they'd be sorely missed!
Beak kind to birds, they'll flock to you -
They're all our feathered friends!
It doesn't matter, black or blue...
Beak kind - 'cos it makes sense!
poem by Denis Martindale (2003)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fate Of The Black Bird
the black bird flies alone against the blue sky
it is lonely and that is the truth that lies in every black feather of its strong wings
if only it can change its course
and find a place where there are other black birds like it
perhaps it will turn back and learn to sing the song of the black flock
it is not a way of life that its father had handed to it upon its beak and claws
it is not even a choice and never did it ever imagine that it shall be alone against the blue skies
against the black nights and against the towering peaks of mountains
there is no other way of rationalizing about it except fate,
it is the destiny that chose its path and it is simply following the dictates of the stars.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Last One Standing
Standing alone,
Above a bottomless void.
You just want it all,
But you’ve forgotten that I’m still here!
A lone wolf in the arctic desert,
The tiger that evades capture.
Fangs and claws,
Razor sharp in the cold clear night.
I think you’d better run now,
‘Cos I’m coming after you.
I’m the last one standing,
And I’m waiting for you!
Would you bleed,
Would you cry,
Would you kill
For your greed?
Would you leave
Those that care
All behind
For all your greed?
Can’t you see me? Last one standing
I’ve faced it all! Last one standing
You cut me down! Last one standing
I’m the last one standing and I’m coming for you!
You tortured innocent,
For you own pleasure.
Manipulating them,
To play with power.
Hunted through the night,
Shaking in the heat.
The tide of fear is rising,
And it’s drowning you alone.
I think you’d better hide now,
‘Cos I’m searching for you.
You know what’s gonna’ happen
And there’s no mean of escape!
Would you bleed,
Would you cry,
Would you kill
For your greed?
Would you leave
Those that care
All behind
For all your greed?
Can’t you see me? Last one standing
I’ve faced it all! Last one standing
You cut me down! Last one standing
I’m the last one standing and I’m coming for you!
No matter what you do,
I’ll always be there,
Watching you,
Waiting for my chance,
‘Cos I’m the last one standing,
And you’re going down!
poem by Thistle Wargul
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Hunters Of Men
HAVE ye heard of our hunting, o'er mountain and glen,
Through cane-brake and forest, — the hunting of men?
The lords of our land to this hunting have gone,
As the fox-hunter follows the sound of the horn;
Hark! the cheer and the hallo! the crack of the whip,
And the yell of the hound as he fastens his grip!
All blithe are our hunters, and noble their match,
Though hundreds are caught, there are millions to catch.
So speed to their hunting, o'er mountain and glen,
Through cane-brake and forest, — the hunting of men!
Gay luck to our hunters! how nobly they ride
In the glow of their zeal, and the strength of their pride!
The priest with his cassock flung back on the wind,
Just screening the politic statesman behind;
The saint and the sinner, with cursing and prayer,
The drunk and the sober, ride merrily there.
And woman, kind woman, wife, widow, and maid,
For the good of the hunted, is lending her aid:
Her foot's in the stirrup, her hand on the rein,
How blithely she rides to the hunting of men!
Oh, goodly and grand is our hunting to see,
In this 'land of the brave and this home of the free.'
Priest, warrior, and statesman, from Georgia to Maine,
All mounting the saddle, all grasping the rein;
Right merrily hunting the black man, whose sin
Is the curl of his hair and the hue of his skin!
Woe, now, to the hunted who turns him at bay!
Will our hunters be turned from their purpose and prey?
Will their hearts fail within them? their nerves tremble, when
All roughly they ride to the hunting of men?
Ho! alms for our hunters! all weary and faint,
Wax the curse of the sinner and prayer of the saint.
The horn is wound faintly, the echoes are still,
Over cane-brake and river, and forest and hill.
Haste, alms for our hunters! the hunted once more
Have turned from their flight with their backs to the shore:
What right have they here in the home of the white,
Shadowed o'er by our banner of Freedom and Right?
Ho! alms for the hunters! or never again
Will they ride in their pomp to the hunting of men!
Alms, alms for our hunters! why will ye delay,
When their pride and their glory are melting away?
The parson has turned; for, on charge of his own,
Who goeth a warfare, or hunting, alone?
The politic statesman looks back with a sigh,
There is doubt in his heart, there is fear in his eye.
Oh, haste, lest that doubting and fear shall prevail,
And the head of his steed take the place of the tail.
Oh, haste, ere he leave us! for who will ride then,
For pleasure or gain, to the hunting of men?
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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When You Have Killed Hunted The Last...
when you have killed
hunted the last tundra
wolf to extinction
when glorious tundra
is an empty desolate place
without tundra wolves
when the last beaver
has been hunted killed
for fur for sport
when the last eagle
no longer wonder flies
high mountain thermals
when you have killed
hunted the last Grizzly bear
Polar bear to extinction
when all the Arctic ice
has melted with global warming
when all the ice is gone
I too will be gone
my kind will be gone...
we will not live
in this your world
with brother sister spirits
already extinction gone...
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I have no private life at all. I am a hunted woman. I can't take a step without being questioned and surrounded.
quote by Brigitte Bardot
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Pray For The Hunted
No light inside as empty room
Under pressure I cant win
The screams - the pain - its all inside
All this talking all the time
When there is something left
Talk to me face to face
Expected so much more
Im sick and tired of it all
Why dont you pray for the hunted
I scream for help to free my heart
You better pray for the hunter
I wonder why you take me apart
The light has diedd and whos to blame
Youre the one who messed around
You shook - you took - you played your games
The time has come youre going down
When there is something left
Talk to me face to face
Expected so much more
Im sick and tired of it all
Why dont you pray for the hunted
I scream for help to free my heart
You better pray for the hunter
I wonder why you take me apart
You take me apart
Why dont you pray for the hunted
You better pray for the hunter
Why dont you pray for the hunted
You better pray for the hunter
Why dont you pray for the hunted
I scream for help to free my heart
You better pray for the hunter
I wonder why you take me apart
Why dont you pray for the hunted
You score no more youve lost this game
You better pray for the hunter
Why do you always have to take me apart
song performed by by U. D. O.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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VI
The tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest.
They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.
The free bird cries, "O my love, let us fly to wood."
The cage bird whispers, "Come hither, let us both live in the
cage."
Says the free bird, "Among bars, where is there room to spread
one's wings?"
"Alas," cries the cage bird, "I should not know where to sit
perched in the sky."
The free bird cries, "My darling, sing the songs of the
woodlands."
The cage bird says, "Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of
the learned."
The forest bird cries, "No, ah no! songs can never be taught."
The cage bird says, "Alas for me, I know not the songs of the
woodlands."
Their love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing
to wing.
Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to
know each other.
They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, "Come closer, my
love!"
The free bird cries, "It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of
the cage."
The cage bird whispers, "Alas, my wings are powerless and dead."
poem by Rabindranath Tagore from The Gardener (1913)
Submitted by Silvia Velea
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The Tame Bird Was In A Cage
THE tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest.
They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.
The free bird cries, 'O my love, let us fly to the wood.'
The cage bird whispers, 'Come hither, let us both live in the cage.'
Says the free bird, 'Among bars, where is there room to spread one's wings?'
'Alas,' cries the caged bird, 'I should not know where to sit perched in the sky.'
The free bird cries, 'My darling, sing the songs of the woodlands.'
The cage bird sings, 'Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of the learned.'
The forest bird cries, 'No, ah no! songs can never be taught.'
The cage bird says, 'Alas for me, I know not the songs of the woodlands.'
There love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing to wing.
Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to know each other.
They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, 'Come closer, my love!'
The free bird cries, 'It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of the cage.'
The cage bird whispers, 'Alas, my wings are powerless and dead.'
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Escape
you are in prison and you know it
there are no bars
but you simply feel the closing in of space
around you and you sense the choking
and tightening
of your body with so much pressure
against the walls
of your imagination
the concrete beams
and ceiling moving
towards the floor
and you are at the middle
of all these things
you want to escape
and you assume the shape of a very small bird
growing wings on your sides
like the new born leaves
of a seed
without still the claws and beak and tongue
you fly away
unhesitantly without so much waste
of time
& words
except the note
of a very sad song
left on the barren floor
for someone
you no longer love
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Am I? Can You Tell Me?
I am hunted and captured the world
Over and put on display.
But I have no arms and legs.
I am always in flight, yet I have no wings.
Unlike the great hunters I can not be put
into a cage, or displayed on a wall.
Yet I am displayed for the world to see
I am admired for my beauty
And I can touch you, and you can feel me.
and I am invisible to the human eye.
I can make your soul dance, and your heart sing.
And make you feel like you can do anything.
I can make your darkest night bright.
And things that seemed wrong right.
I could turn your brains inside out
And put your mind into doubt.
I can do all this and much more
And hold you captive like never before.
You are my captive, I am your slave
I will be with you till your dying days.
WHAT AM I? I AM LOVE!
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dance with Me in The Key of Life
Holding the strings of vibes
We move to dance of life
When I look I see your essence
In space now empty
Quiet where the shout of whisper
Voice unheard in heart beats
Come here and dance
Hear the song of my mind
Dance to my beat in life
Let me hold you close to me
I feel my song is you
I want to sing you play to you
My beautiful song you be
Let me turn you
In step with my life
Move with me to music of life
Dance to pain of life
To joy of reality
The song for us to dance
Your moans of pleasure
Move me to love you
I now want to dance with you
Our finger touch our lip meet
Kissing to beats of jazz before
The blue come down on my soul
On I am coming to be true
To need what you be for me
Let just dance to our song
What the matter I’m the same as
Before your beats is my beat
Come dance with me come need me
I wait for you to know
I am for you only
Dance come dance your story with me
Move to life up and down
Dance with me I need you to dance
The dance of life in song of love
poem by George Jerone Jefferson
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Innocent Birds
Birds are innocent.
They fly from place to place.
In search of peace and happiness.
Like everyone else.
I wish I had wings.
Flying everywhere and roaming here and there.
All the places and somewhere else.
Their life is like ours.
Like a day of 24 hours.
And a time of few hours.
Birds are hunted for nothing else.
Hunters have them for something else.
poem by Yash Pradhan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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