The Birds Chattering Inside Your Mouth...
the birds in your mouth
chatter, one bird has blue feathers
and it makes the sweetest song,
the white bird keeps mum over
all these caged noise,
perhaps it understands the language
of the soul,
there is a brick red sparrow
looking out the window
it is speaking in tongues
as i listen attentively and watch all these
within the fences of your face
i feel, but i have to be honest
there is nothing that i understand,
i do not wish to
i have had enough, of those blue, red,
and white birds.
but they must all agree that it is not the song
not their songs, but their
common cage, for not one of them
has uttered the nicest word in the
history of captives,
freedom.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Divine Bird
i would skp the best musical concert
to listen one more time to this morning bird
it makes me regret for not having been
a bird watcher and getting to know the name
of every bird and how every bird makes sure
they shine their best in voice rather than feathers
for feathers are just for a show of form but the
voice how well they have cultivated themselves
with the bountiful freedoms strewn below their wings
it was only two mornings ago, i first heard him
sing in among the many trees lining the boulevard
outside my condominium, the Crescent Court
the enchanting haunting notes of his song shocked
me into wondering whether it was really a bird that
sang those pristine notes, notes that seemed to have
streamed out of the sacred sanctum of God, so many
diverse notes, so well handled, they sounded
like a song written by the Divine for one special bird
one most holy entree to the dawn of a new day
i prayed to the Divine to allow me hear that bird
again, a bird that has sung his way into my my poem,
a bird probably from another realm where birds could
understand the workings of the heavens better than men
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Flightless Bird
Slavery was the nature, caged within,
Seeing the sun rays penetrate it wonders,
Upon which strategy shall I escape this cage,
Upon which wisdom shall I,
See the sun and not the rays,
The bird with fluffy feathers did ponder,
Unto its master it cried,
Brought food but it seeked freedom,
To cage the bird was love he claimed,
To be caged, such love was hate it pondered,
Caged without hope, the flightless bird
Such freedom was vain for the bird,
That prison cell used to be a shelter,
To be loved, in a different way,
Engulfing itself in its loose wings,
Dreaming things it never saw,
Seeing life it never experienced,
Searching peace which it never had,
To rest in that moment of anguish,
The master said to cage is to love,
The bird cried to cage is to slave
My thoughts were painted all over,
Looking there, she might just cove over,
Feeling the passion when she came closer,
Will she ever set me free, in this cage I suffer
Unto to me is like a flightless bird,
Caged in vacuum I feel so bad,
To love me you ought to think instead,
To leave me you ought to think you had
The more the sky is seen,
The more the ray come unto my sight,
The more you hold the cage,
The more I desire a rescue,
Unto that day shall I wait,
To fly and see the sky and the sun
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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Poem about Poetry - Poetry's wings clipped
the bird they cage
to study its songs
becomes the cage
that melts down a
heart of freedom
the day they caged
the bird was the day
its songs went awry
poetry is the bird
that carries our freedom
song up to the sky
soaring with the clouds
shimmers in the sea
rustling with the leaves
shrilling with the crickets
hooting with the owls
birds need no teacher
to teach it sing its poem
spiders need no teacher
to teach it spin its web
the first poem
sprang from the fountain
of the human's heart
it flows a crystal clear stream
that shines with their
love, hope and dreams
the day they
started confining
poetry to the
classroom,
dissecting
it like a surgeon
was the day poetry's wings
were clipped
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Lonely Bird and I
my little bird
is still in its cage
for years
i never hear it tweet
a happy song
i know it has kept
that song for years
but i never ask
it to sing it for me
i like to set it free
but it has learned
to love its solitude
in the cage
birds from the fields
on early mornings
seduce it to come out
and fly with them
but it is loyal to my
company
i have not asked it
about any desire for
freedom
sometimes i tell it
something about the
blue sky and the
fresh wind
and the beauty of some
far places
that i have been
to
there were many times
when i left it alone
and when i come back
it does not say anything
about loneliness
at all
when i think that it must
be dead
it stretches its wings
rebutting my theory
that it is possibly
a dead resurrected
for indeed it is alive
and in loneliness
have learned to thrive
it taunts me sometimes
that we have so many things
in common
but it kept things the
way they should be
always in secrecy
always with self-respect
about our own self-inflicted
choices
about our honest acceptance
of who we are
and of what have we become
you ask me about loneliness
and i have all the answers
but try asking my bird about it
it still remains in its chosen
field of
dignified silence.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Bird’s Song
Swim through oceans of air
Birds keep time up there
And spend their days winging
Through forests of clouds, singing
Hymns of nature’s style
Fluttering away all the while
Dancing with angels in the sky
Dancing, dancing as they fly
Through fields of blue
Just to sing their song for you.
Mountains of clouds all about
Saviors in times of drought
Gather up the tears you cry
Into your reservoir in the sky
And listen to the birds sing
Listen for the song in everything
From the forests to the sea
From the bird to the bee
Listen and the song is there
Nature sings everywhere.
The sun rejoices each new day
But it rises in the usual way
To wake up the world with beams of light
And to conquer the darkness of night
But still the birds sing their song
A tribute to the day that’s long
And travel through fields of blue
Just to sing their song for you
And then when all has gone away
They’ll sing for you some other day.
poem by Jamie Collins
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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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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
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I Wish I Had Been Born A Bird...[Personal; Birds; Humor]
My parents were both humans, so I am human too,
but I'd wish to be a bird, if I could be born anew.
Though I 'love' birds, you may think my wish absurd.
But more absurd wishes I'm sure you have heard.
Of course I'm not a bird and never will be.
But if I could talk to birds I could better see
if the life of a bird would really satisfy me.
Eating seeds and bugs and such, and sitting in a tree.
My bird of choice? How would I pick a winner?
Not a penguin, who has to dress for dinner.
Not an ostrich, another flightless bird.
And a strutting peacock might just be absurd.
Perhaps an eagle, soaring high above you,
or a hummingbird, acrobat of the blue.
Or perhaps a mighty swan swimming gracefully,
or a nightingale whistling a concert, free.
For certain I would not choose a caged-life,
though, uncaged, dangers for me might be rife.
I think I'd prefer fresh-kill to old road kill,
and a nest in tree rather than on window sill.
If a bird, I'd not have had to deal with military draft.
Or had others think sometimes that I am daft.
All sorts of human signs and laws I could spurn.
And there'd be no reason to file a tax return.
I'd have no need to wear or ever change diapers,
no need to get gas or change windshield wipers,
no need for lawyers or too many teachers,
no need to listen to rehashing preachers,
no need to plan for death or watch my cholesterol.
As a bird I'd just have to listen to Mother Nature's call.
(September 2009)
poem by Bri Edwards
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Caged Bird
Right now I feel like a bird
Caged without a key
Everyone comes to stare at me
With so much joy and rivalry
They din't know how I feel inside
Through my smile I cry
They don't know what they're doin' to me
Keeping me from flyin'
That's why I say that
I know why the caged bird sings
Only joy comes from song
She's so rare and beautiful to others
Why not just set her free
So she can
Fly
song performed by by Alicia Keys from Songs In A Minor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Blue Bird And The Old Man Under The Tree
and the old man with a sigh murmurs upon himself
'little bird, little bird,
how sweet is your song
how i wish i can listen
some more time'
and the little blue bird high on the tree stops to sing
and looks at the old man with pity
tweeting
'my dear old man
would you like to be a little blue bird some other time? '
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Caged Bird Cries...
i do not know why a caged bird sings?
or shall it sing when caged?
or shall it cry instead?
i know cages, and i have met some birds,
i have seen birds on cages
and i have heard them sing on trees
i have listened them when caged
it is not a song, but a cry,
it is not a dance, but a struggle,
it is not a poem, but the saddest prose.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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Singing Birds Are Endangered Species!
Singing bird's songs
enjoyed,
wonderful melody, wonderful words,
Rhapsodical Sometimes,
More often romantic!
A power hungry,
another powerful
both listen a while,
They want the bird to sing for them!
Now the bird has to stop singing,
Or should think of flying far away!
Power hungry will kill
or powerful will,
Singing bird ability of throat
Is its own enemy,
Two hands are ready to squeeze,
Two blades ready to cut,
Singing bird's throat often
squeezed,
Several died,
not even found in history,
they fear even that bird's story!
For it sings only truth,
Singing birds throat is cut,
Because it can't keep its mouth shut!
Poor bird! Its talent,
gifted voice became
its own enemy,
Not even they are listed
Though singing birds are endangered species!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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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
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White sparrow
white sparrow you see me standing
you could kill me without landing
your wing is just as long as a man
you are as cold as a snowy day
you have come here from heaven
you must of as you fight my devil's
your feathers turn slowly black with my sin
and yet you stay beautiful as always
my sin is like a ciggerate it will turn you black inside
but you cannot die as you are one in your own
you came from heaven so your holy arent you
god sent you for me so you must do what you must do
my heart was never red nor white but black
i was born with my sin and also that of my kin
but white sparrow you have taken that from me
and now you are dying you turned black whilst i change to white
oh my lord what a sight it must be to see
a boy like me clean of all carrying a bird of sin
i am carrying you white sparrow your heart is no longer cold
and your body no longer white nor wings large
but white sparrow you will not die, no you will not
for you white sparrow you came from heaven for me
when i picked my child's name people laughed you did not
you looked at my child in his cot and nodded now you cant
for white sparrow you dont belong with me not anymore
your must leave for heaven and recover to help others
so farewell white sparrow il missy you my saviour
now go to that sin filled woman and help her
for white sparrow i will look for you as you continue
for white sparrow i will see you in heaven....goodbye
poem by Daniel Laurence
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Unfinished requiem
A bird is flying,
But I see only the flight in itself,
The movement.
I close my eyes and I can touch it,
I close my eyes and I can feel it.
The sound of motion hurts my ear.
It is a movement in itself,
And inside of me,
It is like a scream.
Someone shoots
The wing of the bird,
And I feel the movement of the air,
Generated by the falling bird.
I understand, in a second,
My love for you.
It is a relic of a feeling,
Slipped into that place from where the white bird
Collapsed,
Like the soul from the moment to eternity.
My thinking with your name on it
Remains, seemingly, attached to that place,
As a red stain on the blue sky,
Which needs to become white
Between the eyelids,
Only pain can be continuously crushed
And transformed into tears.
Between the saints,
Only God gathers perfect feelings,
Our feelings,
That makes us capable to reach Him.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Who Is that Sing in me!
All the time listen to that great singer,
The great song, great lyrics sung with great melody,
Someone sings in me and everyone,
' I am you and you are me,
Come and see, we are one! '
But how in this turbulent flow of life,
Is it true, everyone listen this?
Some say caged bird sings,
Some say it is song of soul,
Some say it has a song and it sings,
some try to listen it, some say, when I have my own song how can I listen it?
Fantastic song it is, it the song of the divine,
Song of a dreamer, song of the captain of life,
some listen to it and forget what they are,
Some listen to it and follow the singer,
Some only try to find,
who is the singer,
Only a few can see the singer,
Look at the singer, listen the song,
Where one will be when absorbed by that divine song,
The song that enchanted me
The song that enchant everyone,
It is the God that sings,
' Ah, come to me,
Oh my child, wakeup from dream,
In this dream you are playing,
You are thinking, that you play at things,
wakeup and see, it is I am that playing!
Your sorrows are mine,
My sorrows are yours,
your body is not that cage,
It is my own temple, where I am playing my
own game! '
'Where you want to go,
You are not caged anytime
You only restricted yourself
Building a cage, you yourself sat inside
Then closed the door of cage
And that is the foolishness separated us'
'Oh dear child open the door at least that of window
of heart!
You went on sail, setting your own map,
But lured by various destinations,
One better than another, lost the plan and map,
Wonder and wander
here and there for
millions of years,
But had you listened my eternal song,
That has all maps and information,
You would have been with me as per the schedule
Only your own fall to attraction,
You lost your bag and baggage,
Whenever you lost that, you acquired new one,
But none of the bag had no map,
This time you are with the right one,
Right map, Radio, T.V., intranet and internet,
Just turn to me tuning to my station
Switching to my protocol and IP address,
Click at the linK
You feel, all fall and pain,
you find medicine outside
your ego,
Just cleanse It with tears of love,
Just apply cream of faith, go to work with head phones on in your ears,
Go to work which bring peace! '
'Where you are always free,
Don't kill my spirit, only come and sing with me,
My eternal song, come with me,
Oh my child, I am you and you are me,
Let us be one and sing, we are one in love,
We are always were not different,
We make our voice strong and loud so that,
Captains of missing ships can listen us,
Be my relay station helping my song to reach all! '
This is that song,
that eternal song,
sung by Almighty
in every heart!
The heart is chorus,
Is that source
Where He built
His temple and not a
cage to keep singing bird
in captivity or exile!
I am that his son now realised
I am that foolish
ungrateful son
put that infinite
eternal well wisher,
Melodious singer
My own father
Behind the bars!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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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
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The Birds
the birds, sparrows and robins
and some herons
are flying on the blue sky
you watch them
a robin comes near you
and makes a stare
the white heron glides
past your face and flies
away without much ado
a sparrow feeds on your palm
and after all the grains are
consumed it goes its way
north and finally the kingfisher
which is late tries to give
you its catch, a small fish.
you see the difference
and then you go south,
i mean, the difference,
towards another direction,
that one that gives and not
the one that takes,
the one that thinks about
others
and not more about oneself.
you are supposed to be that
a giver not a taker.
one bird has shown you
with a very small fish and
that was enough to feed
you in another long and lonely
journey: south.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My life my smile
My life my smile
I am nout but a teenage boy
I like to sit at my window and write
Listen to the many sounds of the birds
Thinking life is now my toy
So now I sit at my window
Looking at my front garden pond
Look up at the church steeple
And now I smile at what I see down low
A woman has just walked by
She’s holding an ipod in her hand
She looks happy in her blue jeans and white trainers
Whilst she walks she looks at the sky
And now I also look at the sky
It makes me grin from ear to ear
I can see the blue sky with no clouds
And I think wonderful and I feel as if I can fly
poem by Daniel Laurence
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