Inside The Bus Bound For Zamboanga
UPON his hand is
the black crow with a rope
at the base of its claw
He says it is domesticated
having fed it
when it was still without
feathers
If i like it
i may start to bid at
one thousand pesos
his offer
sigh!
who needs a bird without
freedom?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Bird Life
Perched upon an old wheelbarrow-
Scrutinizing Crow,
commentated long, on all he saw.
Feathered friends, who came to wallow,
splashing in the bird-bath hollow
disregarded Crow's bizarre guffaw.
'Are you starling, from the meadow'?
asked the puzzled crow.
'You fit the bill and yet I see a flaw'.
'Tail feathers, long and narrow,
sharp as swallow's twin-pronged arrow,
force me to admit, I'm quite unsure'.
'I'm the Swarling from the plateau',
bird replied, 'Hello'.
'My plumage is unique and furthermore'-
'Meet my friend, the warbling Starlow,
deft in flight as dancing shadow,
blessed with starling beak and swallow claw'.
'Preposterous'! said crow with gusto,
'strange imbroglio'.
'You must be one or other, it's the law'.
To which the enigmatic duo,
chirped a ringing manifesto.
Crow could think of nowt to say, but 'Caw'.
poem by Diane Hine

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Pistolero
Written by orbison/dees.
Pistolero pistolero.where do you ride? pistolero pistolero.you ride alone tonight.
One of brothers five one day vowed to try to make his way,
Joined the cattle drive to mexico.threw in with some bandidos,
Here he learned the lingo. killed the man they call him pistolero.
Five thousand pesos they put on your head.
Five thousand pesos to get you alive or dead.
Ride on ride hard in vaquero, fast as you can to her side.
Ah, but por mucho dinero, el noveno por nada have died.
Pistolero pistolero.where do you roam? pistolero pistolero.on your way home.
Everytime a candle burns, waiting there for your return.
The candle is out pistolero.i see the cabin down below.
Pistolero let her go.tonight youre mine pistolero.
Five thousand pesos they put on your head.
Five thousand pesos to get you alive or dead.
Ah pistolero look around you.your son has set in the sky.
Oh pistolero I found you, kiss maria tell maria goodbye.
Pistolero pistolero, lay your head down.
Pistolero pistolero, six feet underground.
song performed by by Roy Orbison

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Common Crow
The Common Crow, "Caw-Caw"—with its familiar sound
Is a harmless bird very adaptable on land
Almost all over the world it is invariably found
Except in South America, Antarctica and New Zealand.
It is of average size—in color—grey and black
And abounds, teems and thrives in many numbers
Where other birds' survival is considerably slack
As it is the most intelligent of its bird family members.
The Ravens, Magpies, Rooks, the Black-birds
And the Jays—all belong to the family of the crow
They are all hunting migratory birds
Who forage together like the crow.
It has shining black feathers, is clever and curious
It is omnivorous and the diet is very diverse
It eats grains, rodents, insects and is mischievous
And swoops down to grasp things from man's source.
It roosts in large trees high up
Each mating pair has its own nest
Which usually takes one to two weeks to build up
Gathering leaves, feathers, sticks and twigs best.
Baby crows stay in the nest
For up to two months before leaving
The mother crow guards them with zest
And the father crow feeds the family striving.
The young are flesh-colored and born blind
Their eyes open for the first time after five days
The young ones- the family together mind
The elder fledglings tend to help in their own ways.
In Hinduism it is customary to offer food
To the crow before taking the meal
And it is supposed during ‘Shraddha ‘expired ones would
Take food and offerings through the crow's feel.
The crow often lives together in large families
An assembly of crows called a ‘flock of murder'
Forge together and defend their territories
Even high up in the air and down under.
It caws and calls the other crows to its station
To take part of the food that is found
It shows signs of planning communication
Which man must consider and himself bound.
The bird's propensity to raid crops of grain bead
And storing tidbits in trees and crevices in bark
Is the reason ‘Scare crows' are put up to mislead
The crows flock of flights on the crops to embark.
Many crows are surprisingly monogamous
They mate for life and are throughout a pair
The crow belongs to the species Corvus
And up to twenty years it may live with care.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan

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Black Crow
He sees the stormy anger of the world
And wants no part of it at all
And as the weeping leaves of autumn curl
He feels the savage winter call
See far below the dust of conflict settles on the hill
Where there was no escape before
And as he spreads his wings and soars up to another level
He brings the icy prophecies of war
Black crow, black crow, tell me where you really go
When you fly into the sunset, high in evening sky,
Black crow, black crow, tell me what you really know
Will we flourish in this hurricane, or will we fall and die?
While children lose their souls and so much more
To ragged armies of the field
A vicious fanfare cries appeasing hungry savages
To trigger that their fate is surely sealed
I wonder where that black crow sleeps as day beckons the night
Or if he even sleeps at all
I wonder what he thinks of all the human traffic far below
Thats struggled on the road so, so long
Tell me black crow, black crow (solely? ) you pass above
Understanding everything but you know nothing at all
Black crow black crow, tell me what you really know
Do you understand the pain that we feel down here at all
song performed by by Jamiroquai

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As the Crow flies
There are certain species in the crow family.
This entirely glossy black bird never sings.
Carrion crow feeds on grain and the house crow is a reputed scavenger.
Fish crow eats fish and all these species live in the handsome and dangerous Man-crow who sings at all but never flies?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

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Crow Black Chicken
(laurence wilson)
Well, I went on the mountain
And I gave my horn a blow
Thought I heard some purty gal say
Yonder come my beau
Crow black chicken and crow for a day
Crow black chicken and fly away
Crow black chicken and-a ...
I like chicken pie
Well, the hardest work that ever I done
Is plowin a field of rye
The easiest work that ever I done
Was eatin chicken pie
Chicken crow for midnight
And chicken crow for a day
Along come an owl, lord, have mercy
And stole my chicken away
song performed by by Ry Cooder

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Confrontation
The angry sparrow, narrow and light
fiercely pursued the thieving crow
slender beak stabbing
smooth black feathers,
rising and diving,
rolling and turning,
a vicious top-gun
dog-fight.
Then the crow, tired of torment,
set heavily down on the high lamp post
as the small bird circled, crying invective,
taunting the crow to rise again and fight!
but the old crow, patient and wise
settled comfortably for this shrill siege
and calmly waited for the air-show to end.
Finally, exhausted,
the sparrow gave up,
but claiming victory,
like Odysseus
nearly home
at last,
became Homer,
and composed his own
epic poem
of the fierce
midnight raven,
homewrecker
wrought low,
driven down
into death’s
bitter dust,
which, of course, he sang
in heroic,
avian meter
to his faithful,
Penelope.
poem by Steven Federle

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Crow (c) 10-14-2010 (Inspired by 'Raven' by Edgar Allan Poe)
Black wings,
The color of the fallen,
Lacks the beauty of his cousins
But makes up in Darkness
Reputation carries the weight of the recent deceased
Through it's presence, the watchful eye assumes death
An eerie screech protrudes from it's throat
Trying to relay the events that took place
However the Evil retrains their voice and chokes the Crow
Many are unaware of the Crow's ability to speak
Legend has it, before organized civil units
The Crow would announce the cause of death,
Whether naturally, unnaturally, or even supernaturally
The commitment of murder would come to light from it
It was until the day, one of the holiest of men was killed by Evil
And once the Crow was going to tell, the Evil cursed the Crow
Darkening it's feathers and catching it's throat whenever it tries to speak
Only few on the Earth knows of the history of the bird
And the people that know, regret containing the information
Because every move I make I'm followed by Crows
That smell the stench of death on my breath,
Knowing that the Evil that killed the holy
Is ready to clutch our throats restraining us from speaking,
On the savagery of the Evil in our world
poem by Corey Threet

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Mocking Bird
Dark as dungeon, rough as the sea
don't provoke my tolerance, you hardly know me...
Broken are my feathers... a bird that cannot fly
just your words are enough to make me cry.
Nestled in your own world, the feathers keep you warm
my life is a struggle.... I'm still fighting the storm
your given hand of friendship and floating views i see
Are enough to kill a mocking bird and set her free
poem by Meena Mustafa

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Crow On The Cradle
(from the soundtrack to no nukes; peformed live by jackson browne with graham nash & david lindley)
The sheeps in the meadow
The cows in the corn
Now is the time for a child to be born
Hell laugh at the moon
And cry for the sun
And if its a boy hell carry a gun
Sang the crow on the cradle
And if it should be that this babys a girl
Never you mind if her hair doesnt curl
With rings on her fingers
And bells on her toes
And a bomber above her wherever she goes
Sang the crow on the cradle
The crow on the cradle
The black and the white
Somebodys baby is born for a fight
The crow on the cradle
The white and the black
Somebodys baby is not coming back
Sang the crow on the cradle
Your mother and father will sweat and theyll slave
To build you a coffin and dig you a grave
Hush-a-bye little one, never you weep
For weve got a toy that can put you to sleep
Sang the crow on the cradle
Bring me my gun, and Ill shoot that bird dead
Thats what your mother and father once said
The crow on the cradle, what can we do
Ah, this is a thing that Ill leave up to you
Sang the crow on the cradle
Sang the crow on the cradle
song performed by by Jackson Browne

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

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Why the Jackass Laughs
The Boastful Crow and the Laughing Jack
Were telling tales of the outer back:
"I've just been travelling far and wide,
At the back of Bourke and the Queensland side;
There isn't a bird in the bush can go
As far as me," said the old black crow.
"There isn't a bird in the bush can fly
A course as straight or a course as high.
Higher than human eyesight goes.
There's sometimes clouds -- but there's always crows,
Drifting along for a scent of blood
Or a smell of smoke or a sign of flood.
For never a bird or a beast has been
With a sight as strong or a scent as keen.
At fires and floods I'm the first about,
For then the lizards and mice run out:
And I make my swoop -- and that's all they know --
I'm a whale on mice," said the Boastful Crow.
The Bee-birds over the homestead flew
And told each other the long day through
"The cold has come, we must take the track."
"Now, I'll make you a bet," said the Laughing Jack,
"Of a hundred mice, that you dare not go
With the little Bee-birds, by Boastful Crow."
Said the Boastful Crow, "I could take my ease
And fly with little green birds like these.
If they went flat out and they did their best
I could have a smoke and could take a rest."
And he asked of the Bee-birds circling round:
"Now, where do you spike-tails think you're bound?"
"We leave tonight, and out present plan
is to go straight on till we reach Japan.
"Every year, on the self-same day,
We call our children and start away,
Twittering, travelling day and night,
Over the ocean we take our flight;
And we rest a day on some lonely isles
Or we beg a ride for a hundred miles
On a steamer's deck,* and away we go:
We hope you'll come with us, Mister Crow."
But the old black crow was extremely sad.
Said he: "I reckon you're raving mad
To talk of travelling night and day,
And how in the world do you find your way?"
And the Bee-birds answered him, "If you please,
That's one of our own great mysteries".
Now these things chanced in the long ago
And explain the fact, which no doubt you know,
That every jackass high and low
Will always laugh when he sees a crow.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson

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Sad Sad Sorrow
The crow sits there
Atop a willow branch
Singing the sad sad song
Of sorrow
Warning you
The end is near
You dismiss the thought
And cover your ears
From the retched cawing
Of the crow
It follows you
Where ever you go
It's a burden
On your shoulder's low
You try to understand
What the crow means
You're sitting on your bed
And you hear
A distant tapping
On your window
The crow
You see it crying
Tears of a dark angel
You jump back
Startled
And try to catch your breath
You go to the window
But the crow's gone
And you begin to feel
All alone
You look down
And see one of its feathers
With its dark magic
And mystic wonder
You roll it over
Between your fingertips
And hear it singing
The song
Of sad sad sorrow
You piece together the puzzle
Tears of an angel
Feathers of dark magic
And the sad sad sorrow song
It's the end
The end is near
The day the crow left
So did you
And now all you hear
Is the song of
Sad sad sorrow
Tierra Bradley
poem by Tierra Bradley

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A Matter Of Decision
the black bird of loneliness
hovers over the window of the house
and stops to look at
our roof
we shoo it away
there is no place here
where it can build its own nest
we still wait for the bird of bounty
the one that brings us
the eggs of grace
the feathers of happiness
it is the only bird that we welcome here
as a matter of our own decision
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Never let the 'Hope' die...!
Hopes are feathers, a wish is a bird
One may find this simile a little absurd
Hold on, do not lose patience
As I will explain to you the essence
Behind this there is a theory
I shall relate this with a story
Feathers, they keep the bird warm
Likewise hopes keep our wishes strong
Clip the feathers and the bird will not fly
Were it not for hope our wishes would die
My fellow beings, listen to what i have to say
Keep on hoping, what you wish for will come your way
Let your wishes, as birds, freely fly
As long as your hope, you never let die.
poem by Ravi Singh

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Feathers!
feathers on me
again and again
first to fly and now to earth rest
enable me to get ready
and carried me through you
anywhere there are feathers
like you said!
in me in you!
a very strange and intoxicating feeling
afterwards, that you traced my body
maybe i have gasp, of some lack of air!
in high feather, full feathers
you will be writhing with ecstacy
Very pleasurable for me
I feel extremely good
you make me a path a invisible way
eagle feathers very powerful
sound bird feathers very delicate
for tight places or open places
make his sound so soft
Ah! My God! ! !
give me the name of that medicine!
Feathers on me!
Feathers on you!
poem by Mirna Morgan

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T-birds
Circle high, circle low.
Jammers fly, t-birds.
You show, you show, whiplash go.
You show, you show, t-birds. mighty bird.
T-bird, my mighty bird.
On the dot in the slot, tie the knot.
On the dot timed kisses.
In the slot on the dot, tie the knot.
In the slot, no misses.
Mighty bird.
T-bird, my mighty bird.
T-bird, mighty bird.
Black sun conquerer.
Two thousand years ago... a great race... warriors... lived in... they had many gods... mayans... gods... mazatlan... (if you can fill in these blanks please email [email protected])
Black sun worshipper.
Coil it up, wind it out, strike it hot!
Coil it up plumed serpent.
Coil it up, wind it out, strike it hot!
Coil it up, my t-bird.
Serpent curl.
T-bird, rule the world.
T-bird, mighty bird.
Black sun born again.
Oh I love my t-bird, t-bird.
song performed by by Blondie

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rain King
When I think of heaven
Deliver me in a black-winged bird
I think of flying down into a sea of pens and feathers
And all other instruments of faith
and sex and God in the belly of a black-winged bird.
Don't try to feed me
I've been here before and I deserve a little more
I belong in the service of the Queen
I belong anywhere but in between
She's been crying
song performed by by Counting Crows from August And Everything After

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Leading You
i am leading you to a place
where you can be yourself
where you can be free
you will see a black crow there
and it will stare at you
do not be frightened
it will soon leave if you look at it in return
with a calm, strong eye
then another shadow will come flying in
through the window of your house
the shadow of the monkey-eating eagle
too it will stare at you with an intimidating claw
but just be gentle
and soon just like the black crow it will leave
and then you must stand tall beside the same window
where the two birds hover temporarity
you shall see the white dove
getting in at the perfect hour
it will hand you a branch with three green leaves
in perfect timing for the sun that we have been waiting for
you wait some more and there may be rain
a little thunder and some lightning
but again do not be frigtened
keep looking with that strong, calm eye
and then the time now comes for the cocoon
to open and from the window where you must stand tall
from the branch that the dove handed you
you will see the birth of a red butterfly
soon it will fly and hover in one branch of your heart
your heart is the flower
and i am that red butterfly.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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black tangled heart
Maybe your luck has changed
Settle down
Maybe I'm just deranged
And on the rebound
Maybe love was the thing
Holding me back from all
Maybe I'm just the thing
To break my own fall
Take the rope to my heart and fall
You may just be the last before you
See the black tangled heart fall
Maybe departure's good
Makes room for more
Start to mass produce
For a chance to ignore
Maybe you'll kill yourself
Before I get a turn
Maybe I'll fall in love
And never learn
Take the rope to my heart and fall
You may just be the last before you
See the black tangled heart fall
Take the rope to my heart and fall
You may just be the last before you
See the black tangled heart fall
song performed by by Silverchair from neon ballroom

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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