My Mornings Here
in this sleepy town
where there is always rain
i thrive on the songs
of little birds
their notes chirping inside
my mind
i feed them grains of poetry
and they appear healthy
i grow some trees where
they nest and lay eggs of ideas
in this sleepy town
my burdens are light
my canvass is the darkness of the night
my hope is a star
hanging on the tree without leaves
a cocoon opens and gives birth
to another yellow butterfly
it flutters and finds a white daisy
and they kiss
i watch wrapped by the rays of the morning sun
i ponder if this will ever end
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
A Boring Day
as he opens the window
there is only the shadow of leaves on the trees
on a gray background
it is twilight, midway between night and day
sounds of a cold wind from the forest
the rooster crows and some chirping birds
you sit and gaze through the window
light comes in
this happens everyday and there is nothing significant
after 49 years, and this time a hole is bored inside your heart
you fear that love is gone.
that the birds do not chirp musical notes
the wind much colder now and you shiver
light seeps in trickles like rain on your wrinkled skin
it is the same morning, and it will be same mornings all over again.
you do not move. You let time go and your hands are frozen.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yellow Billed Spoonbill
By the lake shore in the shallows where the waters are still
He walks in water to his knees the white bird with yellow legs and long yellow spoon like bill
With his bill in the water as he walk moving from side to side
His prey water insects, crustaceans and tiny fish in the water weed hide.
He and his partner build their nest on a high branch of a tree
On her nest of sticks she lays four white eggs though sometimes two or three
They both take care of their young a bird devoted to fatherhood as well as to his mate
Food from their stomachs to their nestlings they do regurgitate.
On river rapids never seen the still waters they need
Birds of the inland lakes and dams in the shallows they feed
Of humans 'twould be fair to say they have a healthy fear
To a human standing on the shore they never venture near.
Yellow billed or yellow legged spoonbill are names they are known by
On the lake I see one yesterday he did seem rather shy
With his long yellow bill moving from side to side in the shallows he shuffled up and down
The shiest of the water birds in the big park by the Town.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Professional Virgin
the old town finally gets tired
of her and junks her
like an old tramp
no one likes the sound
of her name
and so she leaves this
old town too
takes the bus and travel
miles and days
until she finds this sleepy town
innocent in its manners
and gives her respect
she wears her new clothes
and sandals
she tells them a new name
she pretends she is innocent
not even knowing how
to use the spoon and the fork
in this town
she is precious
she is their virgin.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sleepy Time Time
By jack bruce and janet godfrey
Im a sleepy time baby, a sleepy time boy.
Work only maybe, life is a joy.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Sleepy time time, sleepy time all the time.
Asleep in the daytime, asleep at night.
Life is all playtime; working aint right.
Chorus
I have my sunday, that aint no lie.
But on monday morning comes my favorite cry.
Chorus
song performed by by Cream
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Death of a Union Man
The dust blossoms from grass roots
The river in the arm of the town a healthy vein
Wind at night in the elephant grass and spider on the wall
Strength under torture – one or two man cell
Does it matter how he died in the hands of the State
Is this so far from a sleepy peasant town?
Not as distant as the stars are to the village night
But as vivid as they are, to the ones allowed to know
Soft wind – full moon – palm trees
Night of day making a mockery
Donkey road – tin can street –
Cans on rough grass –
Static – airwaves – faint hurried news:
Death of a Union man
We remain in times of plenty
With faith in history while riot stories grow
Confusing a simple hope
Confounding the politics of luxury
The warm winter nights caress terribly
Like a woman on the edge of birth
The river bears strengths useless to me
But sustaining for us all
Like you, overcoming the cruelty by shadows.
poem by Frank Bana
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sleepy Time Time
By jack bruce and janet godfrey
Im a sleepy time baby, a sleepy time boy.
Work only maybe, life is a joy.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Sleepy time time, sleepy time all the time.
Asleep in the daytime, asleep at night.
Life is all playtime; working aint right.
Chorus
I have my sunday, that aint no lie.
But oh monday morning aint my favorite cry.
Chorus
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Morning’s Glory
Dawn breaks the stranglehold
of a sleepy dusky night.
The sun peers above the eastern horizon
as morning begins to break into full glory.
Flowers open their petals wide
to allow the warmth inside;
birds leave their roosts
to wander the sky.
The morning’s glory soars
on delicate golden wings
as the early birds begin to sing.
Morning’s glory looks down on all
awakening with sleepy eyes,
preparing them to go
through a brand new day
that starts with the morning’s glory
and the sun shining bright.
9 December 2009
poem by David Harris
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A sunset [ double Quintain (English and Sicilian) ]
While the red butterfly melts its wings
Within the light red poppy chain,
The pink gray cloud of the sunset rings
On the gray pink sky the light rays,
Seemingly thrown in a bloody pain.
The leaving sun abandons the sky
For a few hours and like crickets crawl,
The whispers of oak leaves mean good bye,
While the coming night is a dark haul,
Looking at the moon with a black eye.
The sun and the moon finds synergy,
Light becomes gray regolith of moon
With helium fusing energy,
Night makes moon looks like a big balloon
Or like swaddled in a big cocoon.
Much more, like thoughts enveloped in words
Or like souls carrying their divine love,
With feathers of light like Holy birds,
In the rain with drops of divine globes,
Falling down for giving love awards.
Like rain with drops of human spheres,
Pouring up to Him when they can hook
Or falling right down to disappear,
Reverse arch getting a killer look,
Trying to provide fragrance of fear.
Their waves are liquid and drain in sight
Of Earth to meet at infinity.
They are like dark rays in the pure light,
Light rays are arches for Trinity,
While dressed in wind seems to be the night.
Stars are candles and night lights them all,
The colors withdraw in the lost light.
In the black darkness they look so small.
The seeds of dream germinate for fight,
Becoming real for breaking their wall.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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What One Does Matters
as the butterfly
somewhere in china
flutters its
wings
the sea of Japan
starts to grow the biggest
tsunami
when the butterfly hovers
upon the hair of the geisha
the waters recede and once more
finds
its need for nest
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Tweet
He fell from the mango tree nearby
In the nest where three others lay
After the rain, their chirping cry
I heard in the morning at break of day.
A few days old they must have been
Eyes still shut, and such tiny wings
Scarcely with feathers on their skin
But they had a strong will to go on living!
I took the nest and kept it inside
Quite safe in a handy fruit basket
From my cats, the birds I tried to hide
As they heard the noisy chirping racket.
Two of the chicks failed to survive
The rains made them wet in the night
But the other two I had kept alive
Named him 'Tweet' and his brother 'Knight'.
We fed them bread crumbs in a toothpick
The chicks ate the meals, all was alright
But Knight was a bully and not so meek
Renamed him 'Joker' - oh what a sight.
Joker would pound on his brother Tweet
So I had to keep them apart
Everyday their chirping would greet
Good morning to me with all their heart.
Tweet was the only one that remained
For birds do get colds and die
He taught me lessons I had gained
Animals care, without tears they cry.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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When It's Sleepy Time Down South
Pale moon shining on the fields below
Folks are crooning songs soft and low
Needn't tell me so because I know
It's sleepy time down south
Soft winds blowing through the pinewood trees
Folks down there like a life of ease
When old mammy falls upon her knees
It's sleepy time down south
Steamboats on the river a coming or a going
Splashing the night away
Hear those banjos ringing, the people are singing
They dance til the break of day, hey
Dear old southland with his dreamy songs
Takes me back there where I belong
How I'd love to be in my mammy's arms
When it's sleepy time way down south
Dear old southland with his dreamy songs
Take me back there where I belong
How I'd love to be in my mammy's arms
When it's sleepy time down south
Sleepy time down south
song performed by by Louis Armstrong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Abstraction Fo The Word Chirp....
i hear birds chirping
early morning
on those trees
clouds arrive, light
spreads,
green becomes too green
in the fields of
life,
i hear birds chirping
sweet to my ear
i give it priority
abstract. delet morning
move out clouds from the picture
double click green fields
focus on life
delet birds
add volume to chirping
it is all chirping now
just chirping
chirping chirping
the essence of chirp.
i have abstracted it from
everything else.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Set them free..They will multiply..
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time,
colorful birds to colored birds,
chirping birds to singing birds,
flying birds to walking birds,
cunning birds to love birds,
Watching birds is just a lesson,
making mind to have a vision.
collect the twigs to make the nest,
one by one, they think the best,
choose the right tree,
just high and free,
Making the nest perfect,
without any single defect,
The birds toil together or alone,
all day long until it is done.
I bought two love birds,
that were kept in a cage.
Hung the cage under the balcony,
above the reach of dogs not felony.
chirping disturbed their sleep,
Nikko, the dog set them free.
Only two flew away,
but I have a few dozens now,
making their nests,
right in front of me, on the trees.
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Beautiful Is..
Beautiful is..
The money plant having drops of dew
The stars lit night with moon blue
Beautiful is..
A chubby child's cherubic smile
The rain drops which wet a mile
Beautiful is..
The rainbow in the sky above
The early morning chirping of doves
Beautiful is..
The inimitable serenity of sea
The first kiss under a tree
Beautiful is..
The yellow butterfly on a red rose
And yes may be this little prose.
My Dream Regarding The Two Beautiful Birds
i
how do you get to
hit two beautiful birds
with a single
stone?
ii
or how to make these two
beautiful birds to get to stay
beside my window sill?
iii
how do i make these two beautiful birds
happier?
shall i make a bird house on a tree
beside my house
and give them grains every morning of the day?
iv
how do i make this dream about two beautiful birds
into a reality? they keep on chirping inside my mind
wanting to be given the realistic form of wings
like some eyebrows
wings flapping just above my eyes
the mountains my cheeks
my mind the skies
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Superstition About A Black Butterfly
if it is a brown butterfly that flutters inside
the house
we have reasons to be glad
for it means money
if it is a black butterfly we better prepare
for it means death
sorrow, lament
last night the moon was full and it was floating
on the clouds
the sky was so dark the distant star in contrast
flickers like a firefly full of life
i have seen Venus, the neighboring planet
i keep the joy of light
there came a black butterfly
inside the room passing through the window
while you were sleeping
the light of the moon was all over you
i have seen death
it is inside me this love fading like a faint light
like that most distant star
losing the essence of its light
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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iN dAKAK
We are here in this island
at the back the surrounding mountains
a little near the woods and bushes
we hear the birds singing this morning
it is eight o'clock in the morning
you walk along the coastline
as i watch you
i lay my body on a swing tied
between two coconut trees
under this big pitogo tree
i bathe in air and hear the hush of a
certain longing
it is so peaceful here
the clouds are bluer than in the city
do not ask me why
the sea is like a pastel blue blanket
spread in bed
the silence runs on the white sand
the hermit crabs run and stop and run
i can hear the crumpling of the castles in the sand
last night we built them
i put my buri hat hiding my hair and covering part
of my forehead
the leaves fall inside my mind
there are certain notes of sadness trickling
inside my heart
a cascading loneliness
my ears are hearing them
my arms till now cannot embrace
i do not doubt it
here is this paradise even with her
i still long for you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Telluride
(troy verges, brett james)
When I was nineteen I threw my stuff in the car
I headed up to the rockies, got a job at this bar
Selling beer to the locals, just barely getting by
On the tips from the rich kids, there on daddys dime
But when I saw her walk in one night
I knew that Id be all right in
Telluride, the snow falling down
I was waking up in that sleepy little town
In her eyes my world came so alive
I never will forget the moment she arrived
In telluride
We spent that whole winter tangled up by a fire
Casting shadows on the cabin wall, drowning in desire
Confessing all our secrets and laughing out loud
So high up on that mountain, I thought wed never come down
It was a dream we were living in
And I was the happiest Id ever been in
Telluride, the snow falling down
Waking up with her in that sleepy little town
In her eyes, my world came so alive
I never will forget all those sleepless nights
In telluride
Telluride, whoa-oh-oh
It ended just like a movie scene
And I had to play the part
Of the lover who stood there and watched her leave
And me with the frozen heart
In telluride, the snow falling down
Standing there alone in that sleepy little town
In her eyes, my world came so alive
I never will forget the day she said goodbye
In telluride, the snow falling down
Waking up with her in that sleepy little town
In her eyes, my world came so alive
I never will forget all those sleepless nights
In telluride
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sleepy Time Girl (Song) :
Sleepy time girl.She never gets her rest.
Sleepy time girl.She never does her best.
At anything!
Sleepy time girl.She's never on the ball.
Sleepy time girl.Her words! They're always
off the wall.
That little sleepy time girl.
Sleepy time girl.Sleepy time girl.
She's always late for school.
Sleepy time girl.
She never ever seems to care.
That little sleepy time girl..
Short-Song-Poem By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1986,2009..
ALL rights reserved..
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
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Sleepy Head
Terry widlake
Sleepy head isnt it time that you were in your bed?
The sandman will be coming soon, with a dream or two
Perhaps tomorrow they will all come true
Ooh sleepy head whispering all the things that we left unsaid
And so its time to make your weary way into a brand new day, tomorrow
The little pigs were certain that the wolf was here to stay
But in your dreams youll chase that wolf away
Hey sleepy head the princess has been saved and the dragons dead
Goodnight, and may God keep you in his sight
Safe until the early light, sleepy head, sleepy head, sleepy head.....
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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