I Stopped In The Green Rice Field
they pass me by
and they did not notice
how i stop my walk
and
feasted on the white heron
on tall yellow legs
my eyes in wonder
the beauty without
my spirit has wings
lifted to the flight of the white
wings of that bird,
so light, so swift, so free.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Giving the carabao feelings of wings
The carabaos are grazing again
It is summer and
The white herons are teeming
On the green fields
Some take the usual sight
Of friendship
The white heron on top
Of the carabao’s back
They are so close I wonder
If there is this familiarity
Between them
Their friendship has lasted
For centuries
They say the white herons
Feed on carabao's lice
And to repay the kindness
The carabao gives the bird
Its free ground ride
I disagree totally
There is no pecking that I see
And there is no distance
Whatsoever that the carabao gives
This is friendship, this is a picture
Of friendship, the heron is giving
The carabao the feel of its white wings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Little White Bird
little white bird
now that i have set you free
from my hands
to the winds you shall go
to its whims shall you be
search the skies
map out your freedom
be carefree
little bird
do not look back
i am in the prison walls of my mind
still thinking about your white wings
feeling each feather
in every patch of my skin
little bird, little white bird
how pure was that love?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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As Long As
As long as the sun shines bright above, Nothing, yet no one will be able to hide the light,
As the darkest stormy night does,
As long as I can laugh no one will be able to make my eyes cry,
As long as I have the sight to look to the light,
No one can ban my eyes enjoying the beauty of the light,
As long as I believe in greatness of my God,
I'll always get a white wings to fly high,
Nothing yet no one can take away my pride,
As long as I can talk and have the strength and the courage to say not, and don't and stop,
The hands of cruelty can not make me stop praying,
As long as I have the mercy of the God in my heart,
Never will come the time yet no one ever can convince me to look down on someone,
Rich he is or a beggar, an old one or a young,
The black or the white one,
There's no differences among us
Just the beauty of the souls, and purity of desires
Should be the reasons to bring us together
We all are one,
We are the creation of the God.
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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How Did You Kill A White Butterfly?
in your play
with your peers
children
when you catch
a white butterfly
in your hand
how did you
kill it?
did you pull
its white wings?
or did you crush
its head
on your nails?
did you detach
its legs one
by one
like you pulled
the white hairs
of mother?
tell me
if once in your mind
you decide
to set it free
and see it fly
hovering like
a flake of snow
from one
wilting flower
to another?
tell me if you
feel the same way
i do
when the clutches
of love finally set me free?
tell me if you know
the sound of a door
which closes behind you
when finally you
decide to leave
the house of
your birth?
tell me how you
zip your jacket
when you say
it is enough
and then
you feel everything
so warm inside
you?
that every inch
fits and you say
i am leaving for good.
did you really kill
the butterfly with white wings?
or you set it free?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ignored. (a Seagull Story)
Ignored. (A seagull story)
At the seaside restaurant it was busy everyone was eating lobsters,
I tried to catch the waiters’ eye. I was ignored and got the feeling
that I was Invisible, or that I was so small that my head didn’t reached
over the table. A seagull landed on my table a beautiful bird,
yellow beak and feet, plumage snowy white its wings light grey/blue
and its eyes were green; it also had the aroma of the Atlantic Ocean.
Waiter came, looked at the bird asked what it wanted, lobster, I said
when the dish came I gave it to the bird. Got up, left and no one tried
to stop me.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Walk Tall
Cant wait to see you say black is white
Cant wait to hear you
Tell me lies
Say it with flowers
But Id swallow too much pride
Stop counting the hours
till Im right there by your side
Walk tall
Ill never crawl to you
Walk tall
Not if you beg me to
Wishing and hoping
To see the light
Waiting and praying
It will be all right
Remember the days we spent
Just lying on your bed
Remember how crazy we went
Right out of our heads
Walk tall
Ill never crawl to you
Walk tall
Not if you beg me to
Walk tall
Ill never crawl to you
Walk tall
Not if you beg me to
Walk tall
Ill never crawl to you
Walk tall
Not if you beg me to
song performed by by Omd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shadow of my Spirit
Shadows appear and disappear-
Faces behind trees are looking and I never knew,
I never believed in closeness being safe and
Eyes opened towards the sky were said to
Perhaps be taking in the beauty of the cherry blossoms or
Following the pathway of the wild geese in flight-
That is what they say and I would never ask because
Eyes opened to the sky are only open momentarily until
They are cast downward, downward ogling the pathway of my footsteps?
Shadows appear and disappear and faces I don't know
Are none but a threat as the pathway of their eyes
Follow the direction that I walk and I never knew, and
I never believed in closeness being safe-
My eyes are opened towards the sky
Only taking in the spirit of my soul
Dancing someplace in the heavens hoping
That this pathway I walk is a safe place to be?
Shadows appear and disappear and
Even when shadows disappear-
I still believe that all eyes are upon me-
Wild geese in flight and blossoming flowers
Can be beautiful to see but they have no souls-
My soul, my spirit lives deep inside my inner core and
It never felt safe and still to this day
Feels like a raging animal locked inside of a cage
Unable to escape? Unable to escape a body on the run-
On the run from a world that only wishes me harm-
My dream has always been to set my spirit free and to
Become a bird and lift my wings to fly high above
In the sky, journeying through the clouds and to touch the sun,
Then find a safe place where no one could take my thoughts away-but
As a bird I find myself with broken wings, and my own shadow is cast upon the ground
Pilfered by evil people who capture my thoughts within their sinister grasps and
This world is not my home-shadows appear and disappear- my own included-
I can see it upon the gravel pathway lying still- I wait until it disappears and
I find myself alone-alone and safe- a bird with broken wings who has lost her shadow but
I am safe in my solitude and when all shadows disappear, I finally have nothing to fear-
My eyes are opened to the sky watching the wild geese in flight-
They have nothing to fear, soaring high up in the sky and they can escape reality as
Their wings are not broken and blossoming flowers may be beautiful and they remain safe because God did not give them spirits to feel the fear?
poem by Claudia Krizay
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On the Garden Wall
Oh, once I walked a garden
In dreams. 'Twas yellow grass.
And many orange-trees grew there
In sand as white as glass.
The curving, wide wall-border
Was marble, like the snow.
I walked that wall a fairy-prince
And, pacing quaint and slow,
Beside me were my pages,
Two giant, friendly birds.
Half swan they were, half peacock.
They spake in courtier-words.
Their inner wings a charriot,
Their outer wings for flight,
They lifted me from dreamland.
We bade those trees good-night.
Swiftly above the stars we rode.
I looked below me soon.
The white-walled garden I had ruled
Was one lone flower--the moon.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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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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White Angel
There's a white angel out there
Out there somewhere
It'll blow away the darkness
Let is bright light shine
There's a white angel out there
With gold encrested wings
A white halo of leaves
They only show certain people they're their angel
There's a white angel out there
One for each of us
Be they a friend to save you
Or a true being of Heaven
There's a white angel out there
Just let them find you please
They'll show you light
They'll save you from dark
There's a white angel out there
Just let them break through thier darkness
Let them gain those wings
And you'll see them waiting
There's a white angel out there
Just you wait and see
March 2006
poem by Gee Cii Schnider
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Leonardo's Legend
he dreamt that a man
given his wings
can always fly
faster than a bird
they dislike him
the church
sees him as evil
for flight is not
intended for men
for men have only
feet to walk
never had wings
as God so intends
then Leonardo
made the wings
and men indeed can
fly like the birds in the skies
the legend lives
the lesson learned
we can always be
what we want to be
if we only try harder
if we only think deeper
now, man beware
do you want to be God?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Turning Leaves
Red, red, red
Right ahead,
Yellow, yellow like the sun,
Through the leaves run,
Orange, orange many trees,
Blowing in the breeze,
A few evergreens,
Many autumn scenes,
Walk along a stream,
Seems as a dream,
Add blue and white,
A bird in flight,
Climb to the top,
Seems the forest never stop,
From the tower view,
Only get a clue,
Sunset indigo and violet,
If only for a bit,
Walk among the leaves,
Feel the fall breeze.
poem by Fritzner Erauda
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yellow Butterfly.
Gently flapping it's thin wings,
A butterfly lands upon my fingers,
And upon a soft breeze it leaves,
Yet it's delicate presence lingers.
Sunny yellow rimmed it's wings.
With dark daffodil yellow rings,
Pure coal black traced it's veins,
It's image - in my mind - remains.
Such a soft and delicate brush,
Of a butterflies wings, so plush,
The softest touch of it's tiny legs,
Lifted my spirits - well, the dregs.
That butterfly, that passed me by,
The messenger between land and sky,
Has stayed lodged in my mind,
I'll never meet another of it's kind,
A single butterfly, while I was alone,
Came to me and my world was thrown,
But I'll never forget that yellow butterfly,
That left me when I let out a soft sigh,
A soft sigh that came from me,
Swept my butterfly, set it free,
This is my butterfly that I'll remember,
My butterfly from last September.
poem by Rayne Goddard
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The White Bird In My Hand
I LOST A bird,
it is a bird with white wings,
i shape those wings,
and give it strength,
in the wink of an eye
it flies away,
it never sings for me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Won't Fly
I'm just a little bird
but I've got wings
like the wings
of an eagle.
I can fly high
higher than the clouds
but I won't fly
because I want to walk with you
under the sun
or even under the rain.
I'm just a little bird
but I've got wings
like the wings
of an eagle.
I can fly high
but, I won't fly
and will never spread my wings
as long as I have
...your love.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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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
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When I Want To See Beauty
When I want to see beauty I need not travel far
Not even for a short drive in a car
Outside my window on flowering callistemon tree
A natural thing of beauty there to see.
The new holland honeyeater in his dark and gold
A bird of beauty lovely to behold
He chirrups loud amongst the leafy bowers
And take his fill of nectar from the flowers.
When I want beauty all I have to do
Is walk near my home down shady avenue
Where white backed magpie on the tall gum sing
In Nature beauty is a natural thing.
For beauty money I don't have to pay
Or purchase flight ticket to far away
At night I see it in the starry sky
A thing of beauty is a thing of joy.
And the finest of beauty you don't pay to see
Like a red rosella on a sunlit tree
In Nature's garden living wild and free
And you won't see any prettier than he.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Unforgiving Love
one day a blue bird fell in love with a white rose..the rose was envious of everybod falling in love and was afraid that she will get hurt..the blue bird told her that he had loved her from afar but was too scared to tell the white rose how much he actaully did...the white rose told the bird when my petals turn from white to red i will fall in love with you back....the blue bird came by and by everyday and told the white rose how much he loved her...until one day the blue bird cut his wings and soaked the white rose with his blood...the white rose's petals turned from white to a luscious red and she realized how much the blue bird loved her..but it was too late the blue bird fell in front of the rose and the rose was red forever..that's why roses are giving to the ones we loved
poem by Ariff Khan
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White Moments
THE best of life, what is it but white moments?
Those swift illuminations when we see
The flying shadows on the fragrant meadows
As God beholds them from eternity.
White moments, when the bliss of being worships,
And fear and shame are heretics that burn
In holy fire of exquisite desire
For love's surrender and for love's return.
White moments, when a Power above the artist
Catches his plodding chisel, sets it free,
And from each urgent stroke there springs emergent
The wayward grace that laughs at industry.
White moments, when the drowsing soul, sense-muffled,
Is stung awake by some keen arrow-flight
And rends the bestial, claiming its celestial
Succession in the lineage of light.
White moments, when the spirit, long confronted
By all the bitter formulæ of fate,
Inveterate romancer, finds its answer
In some mysterious faith inviolate.
White moments, when the silence steals on sorrow,
And in that hush the heart becomes aware
Of wings that brood it, visions that seclude it
Forevermore from folly, fear and care.
The best of life, what is it but white moments?
Freedoms that break the chain and fling the load,
Irradiations, ardors, consecrations,
— The starry shrines along our pilgrim road.
poem by Katharine Lee Bates
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The Bald Eagle
Over the river and soaring high,
Wings spread wide, with confidence assured,
The strength, that mighty strength,
Soaring above, high in the sky,
Seeking prey to feed its young,
The courage of a warrior,
With eyes so keen,
Just as a hero, yet so unsung,
Wings so black, yet head so white,
The Bald Eagle Soars,
In the heavens so blue,
It stands for all, willing to fight,
Freedom it stands for,
A beauty in flight,
A character of strength,
With its beauty it soars
Over the water and then the trees,
With wings spread, as it peers to the ground
Owning the sky, as it soars above
Protecting its country, in the early spring breeze.
poem by B.J. Ayers
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