Loquacious
this afternoon, i talk a lot, and the more i talk,
the more words flowed from my mouth, the more i become less
of myself,
that is the irony of talking, the more i empty myself of this burden
using words, the lighter i become, the more useless i become of myself,
words and more words,
the more i have of them, the more meaningless my thoughts have become
and they who are listening have become more silent than ever,
i know, their minds are somewhere else, and i know that they know
that there is this spirit in front of them so restless,
wriggling like a worm, jumping like a horse, flapping like a bird
wanting to get rid of something: the fruit wanting to be free from the worm,
the horse from a gadfly, and the bird from the pricking flea....
what else can they say? they must have been saying.
we perfectly understand, we have been there, we were once a fruit
with a worm in our pulp, a horse with a gadfly in our tail,
a bird unable to get rid of the flea....
we were rotten once, we jumped the more, and now we are flying away.
what a life we have, we are never free, and we are never for even once
comfortable with what we are and what we have....
what we do not have of course, is what bothers us the most.
be it a horse, a bird, or a fruit, a flea, a worm, a gadfly of old
like what Socrates once mentioned before he took the fatal poison.
well he died, and here we are always trying to remember.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
That's A Thoroughbred
Is the fresh dew appearing,
On the backside of a thoroughbred horse...
Any indication,
That this horse stays prepared to run a race...
Anytime.
And never finds time to relax or sleep?
Or keep away from the track.
Only to practice lap after lap after lap,
With eyes on the prize!
And that's why the dew.
Since the early bird catches the worm?
'I stayed with you until we got to the bird.
And the worm.
What does that have to do with the horse? '
That's not just an ordinary horse.
Doing laps around a course!
That's a thoroughbred.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Bird
Little bird up in a tree
Looked down and sang a song to me
Of how it began
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
The trout in the shiny brook
Gave the worm another look
And told me not to worry
About my life
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
Tree in my own backyard
Stands all alone
Bears fruit for me
And it tastes so good
Wheres my pretty bird
He must have flown away
If I keep singing
Hell come back someday
Dawn, birds still gone
Guess Ill go mow the lawn
What a day, what a day
Oooo, what a beautiful day this is
Ooooooooo
Little bird up in a tree
Looked down a sang a song to me
The trout in a shiny brook
Gave the worm another look
And told me not to worry about my life
Little bird looked down
And sang a song to me
Little bird looked down
And sang a songto me
Little bird looked down
And sang a song to me
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When You Start To Talk About Nothing
the moment you start to talk about nothing
mind you, this nothing becomes something
and this something becomes something more
like a raindropp falling becoming a worm
the worm becoming a fish
the fish becoming a bird
the bird becoming a man
smaller ones taking bigger shapes
until it becomes a part of you
until it becomes you
until it becomes something bigger than you
all it takes is just a simple beginning
and you making meaning shaping bigger things
more than yourself
more than you can ever think of at the end
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Now Little Bird?
what now little bird?
you look around you
the nest is empty
and mother bird is far away
and siblings
have taken the first jump
to the pond
to learn to float
and then
fly
you think that mother-bird
comes back
to feed you with another worm?
no, little bird
no one is coming back for you
you do not even
know if you have a father-bird
to save you
no, little bird
do not wait
do not waste your time
the sun shines
and it is time
for you to go too
fly now
little bird
find the real meaning of your wings....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wind Horse
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, gentle Wind horse, you were the last of your kind.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you were running wild and free.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, with this freedom you did nothing but give;
When one called for help you carried them to safety,
No enemy did you have.
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you gave your life one day
To a boy with no leg.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you gave him your endless love.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you now run in the Great Hunting Grounds;
Giving joy to those there, as you did here.
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, your life was not the last gift
You gave the People.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you prayed for us, you wished a wish for us.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, we remember you through your brother Horse.
Wi: yo: h … It is good.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, we see you still.
poem by Tolly Rebeka Christian BlackWolf Hawk
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Early bird
Early bird
catches worm.
Small bird sing earlier
Bird that see first
Break the dawn.
The bird tells
How to be a winner
In the long run.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What's in a bird?
whay's in a bird,
that everybody wants to be
in their second life?
what's in a horse,
that everybody wants to ride
when the bird fails to fly?
what's in a fish,
that everybody wants to have
when the horse gets tired of running?
and, what's in the world,
that everybody wants to...
fly away,
run farther,
and
swim under
just to leave everything behind?
poem by Shadow ...art
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If Only I Were a Bird
If only I were a bird,
my days would be forever happy
Chirp from tree to tree
And live worry-free.
If only I were a bird,
I would fly from
Cyprus to Chile
and have a tour on earth.
If only I were a bird,
I would dropp fruit seeds
Hoping a fruit tree will grow
For other birds to take shade.
If only I were a bird
I won't be
worrying about work
Bills, car, or clothes
poem by Champs Ulysses Cabinatan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Princess And The Black Horse-II
The sun came out with smiling face,
from the horizon of deep blue sea.
The sky became as crimson red,
They crossed the blank-blank lea.
There they met, a good wizard,
he listened her all history.
Gave her a magical flower-dust,
which he kept in a hole of a tree.
They had together, the sunflower juice,
and drank the dazzling ray of the sun.
Her Bird-horse, ate too all which she had.
They set out, as before the day did burn,
they had to reach friend's kingdom.
She took the dust, and the wand with her.
Rode on the winged-horse and bade good bye.
'Blackberry, fly fast'-She whispered, in his ear.
'Yes, Ma'am, 'it seemed the bird answered.
The breeze was rustling, bright was the noon.
The princess was afraid, could she reach,
his father's friend's castle so soon?
'If night drops down her black curtain,
the power of the wand would go away,
The bird would be horse then again!
'Yes, '-Black-berry said his head did sway.
What to do was to take rest in an inn,
or in a very safe and enemy free place,
in a house of simple man, or in a tavern,
'No fear, we will be saved by God's grace! '
Uttering these words, she embraced her horse,
and said-oh! fatigued am I, now feel sleepy,
but I may fall, and face thus my end.'
'You can sleep, my princess, your eyes are droopy.'
poem by Nilakshi Das
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If You Only Hear The Rhythm Of This Poem
each syllable is
a heartbeat
it is something jumping
not like a frog
but more of a flea
it is silent
it jumps further trying
to reach the tip
of my nose
each word is a sigh
like the flaps of a bird flying away from me
this is the poem that i write for you
and if it is true that you live in the dark
i guess
you shall hear it well
you shall see it well
for the wings of the bird are white
and the color of the sigh is the color of the lights
breathed by the stars
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What is a Horse?
What is a horse?
A horse has eyes as dainty as a mink.
The grace is interrupted merely by a blink.
A horse is beauty.
What is a horse?
A horse is a tree in a storm that never goes down.
A horse is a weathered rock that stays around.
A horse is ancient.
What is a horse?
A horse waltzes like breeze over rivers.
She curvets and leaps like rain shivers.
A horse is a marionette.
What is a horse?
A horse is determination, that never stops flowing.
A horse is fondness, that never stops growing.
A horse is poetic power.
poem by Lily Whittaker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Want To Be Free
(words & music by jerry leiber - mike stoller)
Theres no joy in my heart,
Only sorrow
And Im sad
As a man can be
I sit alone in the darkness
Of my lonely room
And this room
Is a prison to me
I look at window
And what to I see
I see a bird
Way up in the tree
I want to be free free
Free - ee - ee - ee
I want to be free
Like the bird in the tree
What good are my eyes,
They cant see you
And my arms,
They cant hold so tight
I have two lips
That are yearning,
But theyre no good to me
Cause I know I cant kiss you tonight
I look at window
And what to I see
I see a bird
Way up in the tree
I want to be free free
Free - ee - ee - ee
I want to be free
Like the bird in the tree
I want to be free
Like the bird in the tree
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Horse Riding Boy!
A boy goes on horse riding to school!
He doesn’t like cycle or bike or vehicle!
His parents work in foreign countries;
They are ready to give him even bike;
He insisted on horse only for his ride!
He has collected points on horse also;
So, he has got horse for going to school.
He spends Rs.150 daily for his horse;
He even participates so on functions
And he earns considerable amount too!
His aim is to become a race horse jockey!
He learns a lot by doing from now on.
His aim is not to become a book worm;
His vision, idea and action is to achieve
Unlike other boys of his age in school!
Music, arts, games and creativity make
One great after education as it is sure!
A horse riding boy is an inspiration indeed
For kids to develop talent and rise high!
Education is just basic alphabetical letters;
But new creativity only makes one great!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Among All Lovely Things My Love Had Been
AMONG all lovely things my Love had been;
Had noted well the stars, all flowers that grew
About her home; but she had never seen
A glow-worm, never one, and this I knew.
While riding near her home one stormy night
A single glow-worm did I chance to espy;
I gave a fervent welcome to the sight,
And from my horse I leapt; great joy had I.
Upon a leaf the glow-worm did I lay,
To bear it with me through the stormy night:
And, as before, it shone without dismay;
Albeit putting forth a fainter light.
When to the dwelling of my Love I came,
I went into the orchard quietly;
And left the glow-worm, blessing it by name,
Laid safely by itself, beneath a tree.
The whole next day, I hoped, and hoped with fear;
At night the glow-worm shone beneath the tree;
I led my Lucy to the spot, 'Look here,'
Oh! joy it was for her, and joy for me!
poem by William Wordsworth
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The Need For Affirmation
how i tried to be just myself in the corner
like a stone
but it is not at all possible
i am not just a stone
i am a worm
how i wish just to wriggle
and live in that
small leaf
but it is not at all possible
i am a butterfly
how i wish just to flutter
from one flower to
another
but it is not at all possible
i am a bird
how i wish to be just a bird,
a cloud, the sun, the moon
or the thousand stars
and then i become
a man
and it is enough
you just called my name
and it is perfectly a good beginning
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The early bird gets the worm.The early worm... gets eaten.
quote by Norman Ralph Augustine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Horse Is A Horse
A horse is a horse and a man is a man
And neither can be the other
And each can survive but is much better
In the company of one another.
And while a horse is a horse and that is true
A horse is but a beast
As a cow is a cow, some ask how
On its flesh we should not feast?
For they do so in France as in other places
And I don't know how they can
For while a horse is a horse and is only a horse
It is less a cow than it is a man!
poem by Tomás Ó Cárthaigh
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The Chambermaid's Second Song
From pleasure of the bed,
Dull as a worm,
His rod and its butting head
Limp as a worm,
His spirit that has fled
Blind as a worm.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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For Those Who Grieve
no one
no one can really stop you
from eating the bark of the tree
the thick skin of the
fruit
no one can tell you what should have
been proper
or better
you like the skin and you throw away
the fruit that could have
satisfied your
thirst and hunger
the bark has poisoned you
the moon has warned you too well
the worm is wriggling
its frail and elongated
body
you have no ears
your sense of smell so badly damaged
and now you
are dying
no one tells you that life is as sweet
as the ripe fruit of the tree
that luscious flesh that flowing
juice
your gaze is sharp as a knife
stabbing even the
sun
and you are always right
what you have been searching
that can satisfy your hunger and thirst
is not found on the fruit
not even in the tree
it is in the poisonous bark
that useless skin
that silly coat
definitely it is not even here
where we are all grieving
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Your Struggles And My Own
we climb this cliff
and up there let us see
what is best for us
you think about something else
like jumping off
while i stay and ponder
about the meaning of the
climbing the significance
of cliffs
if you jump off and you
think you fly away like a bird
just like that
that is your choice
if i remain here like
a stone or a vine or a worm
and think that there is something here
worth the stay
that is my choice too
oh, you fly away like a bird
and i am left
with all the guilt you are leaving me
how can you be so
treacherous and so unkind?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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