The Lone Dissenter
he stands firm
his mouth is an inch away from the microphone
his words of dissent
reach the roof
and he sees pigeons
free from their cages
he wants to tell them all about
these white birds
but the audience whose faces are serious
like lockers
only see bats and crows
the lights went off
and he finds himself all alone in the silence of his darkness
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Guava
Behold the beauty of guava tree!
In nature’s garden she is free.
She is the gift of nature;
Born for the worldly creature.
She bears green, yellow, red delicious fruits;
Human beings, parrots, pigeons and bats are her guests.
Fruits are delicate and lovely,
Attract the travellers and birds gaily.
She spreads the brown boughs to the sky,
Above her beautiful black crows fly.
She is the perennial gift of nature,
She contents the hunger of the creature.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Free
we are marching,
side by side,
heads down,
in oppressive silence.
trapped in small places,
confined by our faces.
numbered, and lined up
to face the glare of darkness.
i am human, dammit!
i am a man,
i am alive!
my spirit cannot be contained
in cages of ownership
and servitude.
i will not be your boy!
i am free!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Iam LOVELY like a White Red,
Iam Lovely Like White and Red,
Iam Lovely Like White and Red,
These Crows that are Hateful will change to Red and White,
I hate White and Black,
But to Hit these Hateful Birds in our Stomack is Even Better,
I can see the Change in our Eyes,
To Red and White,
A Battle Prepared will never be Half Time anymore,
But a Change in Faces,
Those that Killed Christ will see a Forgiven REMEDY,
For God is LOVE in Highest REALM,
The Hateful BIRDS will change to RED AND WHITE,
A NEW WORLD ORDER EMERGES.
poem by Maxim Muyu
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When the rest of nature comes to me
Late in the afternoon each bright weaver gambols
when the evening star shines blue-white,
each pretty butterfly flutters around
when wild pigeons land on the ground;
I am astonished in the restless city
when the rest of nature comes to me.
Through the trees the wind is a whispering,
when birds call in the silver twilight,
when the sun disappears, red behind the hillocks,
when stars appear with lights that wink,
I am astonished in the restless city
when the rest of nature comes to me.
Far away guinea fowls are calling,
preoccupied I sit peaceful on the porch,
see in the distance city lights shining
when the bats cavort to and thro,
I am astonished in the restless city
when the rest of nature comes to me.
poem by Gert Strydom
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When the birds fly
When the birds fly
the mind opens its eye
the heart looks up to the sky
the birds fly.
The birds fly south
the ear opens its mouth
the nose sees summer
the kids they are playing out...
When the birds fly
we dream our words dont die.
Reborn with a babys cry
the birds fly leaving stars
they stay in the night,
we are the birds
we escape to the light.
poem by Daniel McCann
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Silence 1.
Most times when I'm hurt,
My silence speaks for me.
She speaks very loud;
Even louder than a megaphone.
I choose to be silent, -
When most things happen,
Not because I cannot speak;
Nor that my words have evaded me,
But because in my silence-
There's a challenging power.
Sometimes in my fears,
When my heart is filled with love,
And my eyes with tears;
I learn to love, just like a dove.
My mouth moves to speak,
But is suddenly cut short by silence,
Silence in love, silence in fear.
Silence in tears, silence in joy;
And when I'm in this mood,
My silence stands so tall-
Even taller than a giant;
She makes her way; -
Even more than spoken words.
Spoken words of loud emotions,
They meet my silence-
And they tremble in awe.
I could hear those words;
They say to themselves,
'How art silence so mighty? '.
poem by Echezonachukwu Nduka
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Late, O Miller
LATE, O miller,
The birds are silent,
The darkness falls.
In the house the lights are lighted.
See, in the valley they twinkle,
The lights of home.
Late, O lovers,
The night is at hand;
Silence and darkness
Clothe the land.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Bats of Darkness
As I see the sun
my heart floats like a balloon
I'd hate to admit it
but i'm acting like an idiot
We all know that light will die
as darkness creeps up upon the muddy soil under our feet
As the sun goes down
bats are not sleeping
As dusk weaves itself over our sky
darkness awakes with our bats
Most people think the sun will come back
after we wake the next day, not a fact
Darkness will stay as long as we shall live
and we turn into bats
The winged creatures of the night woke up
from the jolly spirit of the day
Bats shall live forever,
will feast on fruit
The sun is gone and the flowers run away
for without the sun they all die
Do you fear us?
poem by Stephen Black
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Cat Among The Pigeons
An alley cat with scruffy hair
got into the old pigeon house.
And all it wanted was its share
of pigeon meat, because a mouse
was such a bore and pretty small
variety, the spice of life
would play, exceedingly, a role
for this gray cat and for his wife.
The pigeons flew in all directions
some crashed like Kamakazi fliers
the cat cleaned up the closest section
and then returned to the home fires.
Revenge was planned by all the birds
as word got 'round about the raid
it was decided that with words
one could not sway a cat who made
these trips to be a connoisseur.
So they enlisted Mr. Eagle
who was so strong that they were sure,
that with some luck they could sweneagle
a devastating end for cats
so fifteen small birds were procured
from within ranks of ugly bats
whose parents had been well assured
that their excursion would be fun,
of course they were the Eagle's fee
when he would fly in with the sun
to maim and kill and set them free.
That's how it went, the eagle came
swooped down from lofty heights at speed
and knocked not only out his frame
but heart and lungs which cat did need
.
The end of cat was rather swift
he never did another raid
the eagle got his batty gift
and pigeons were no more afraid.
But on the Monday of that week
there was a storm, it seems, severe,
the cat's own spouse, just like a freak
killed all of them, oh dear oh dear.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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I'm Free
I'm free
as free as the birds
as free as the clouds
as free as the wind.
I'm free to sing
even if my voice
is not like the voice of an angel
I'm free to dance
even if I'm out of the rhythm
I'm free to cry
even if it means to worry you
I'm free to laugh
even if my heart is aching
I'm free to love
even if it will only hurt me
I'm free to dream
even if I cannot reach it.
I'm free
as free as the birds
as free as the clouds
as free as the wind.
I'm free to be happy
even if I'm in the middle of crisis
I'm free to live
even if it will then
end in dying.
I'm free
as free as the birds
as free as the clouds
as free as the wind.
I'm free...
I'm free!
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Where It's At
There's a destination a little up the road
From the habitations and the towns we know
A place we saw the lights turn low
With the jig-saw jazz and the get-fresh flow
Pulling out jives and jamboree handouts
Two turntables and a microphone
Bottles and cans just clap your hands just clap your hands
Where it's at
I got two turntables and a microphone
Where it's at
I got two turntables and a microphone
Where it's at
I got two turntables and a microphone
Where it's at
I got two turntables and a microphone
Take me home in my elevator bones
Pick yourself up off the side of the road
With your elevator bones and your whip-flash tones
Members only
Hypnotizers move through the womb like ambulance drivers
Shining shoes with your microphone blues
Here-suits with your parachute fruits
Passing the dutchie from coast to coast
Let the man get loose while I rock the most
Where it's at
I got two turntables and a microphone
Where it's at
I got two turntables and a microphone
What about those who swing both ways
song performed by by Beck from Odelay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Back In The Uk
Welcome posse!!!
Were kickin up!
Once again, we have the plan,
Driving you wild, as good as we can!
Dont stop us now, were gonna make you move,
Raving outside to the passionate groove...
So I wanna check the microphone, I wanna check the microphone, I wanna check! I wanna check!
The rick, the ferris, and mc h.p... scooter! back in the uk!
Yesss!!!
Come on!!!
Somewhere in england, banging the bass!
Join our trip, to this weird place!
Back to nature, where we can be...faster and harder, louder and free!
So I wanna check the microphone, I wanna check the microphone, I wanna check! I wanna check!
The rick, the ferris, and mc h.p...scooter! back in the uk!
Bass!!!
We started in 1994!
In 1996, were still on the case!
Hold tight crew!!!
Together...no one can stop us now!!!
So I wanna check the microphone, I wanna check the microphone, I wanna check! I wanna check!
The birds, the trees, the clouds, the sea ...the rick, the ferris, and mc h.p!!
song performed by by Scooter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Futility
The scarecrow dressed in cast off clothes.
Sticks grimly to his given task
But does he frighten off the crows,
that is the question we must ask.
When he is new perhaps he will
but crows are wise and realise.
This ragged figure stands stock still
and will not take them by surprise.
He cannot move, inanimate.
Which leaves then free to eat their fill.
A guardian quite inadequate.
He does not and he never will.
Frighten the crows who are too wise
to be afraid of straw stuffed clothes
Though he appears in manly guise
he can’t deter the hungry crows.
The scarecrow fails in his attempt.
He never really stood a chance
Crows treat him with amused contempt
and disregard his vigilance.
5-Aug-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Face in the Mirror
She calls out to the face in the mirror
And runs her fingers down the varnished frame
Then she lights a cigarette and inhales deeply,
Leaving the lighter lit and staring into the flame.
The sun shines in through the half opened curtains
It lights up the room but not her face
The mirror still darkened as the face stands staring
Darkness wraps around her, concealing the empty space.
She never chased the dreams
Or ran through the morning light
She was never heard above the screams
She just hid in the darkness of the night,
With the face in the mirror.
Now the sun's gone down, she looks through the window
At the faces and places and motion below
The face in the mirror watches her shadow
As she sits on the window ledge waiting to go.
She sees cars drive by with their bright lights
She hears voices carrying away into the night
The face in the mirror incites her to jump
And she leaps and falls downwards flight after flight.
She never chased her dreams
Now she's chasing the ground
She wasn't heard above the screams
Now she doesn't make a sound,
And the face in the mirror smashes.
poem by Mark Hopwood
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What we Think of
Walking round our cages like the lions at the
Zoo,
We think of things that we have done, and things
we mean to do :
Of girls we left behind us, of letters that are due,
Of boating on the river beneath a sky of blue,
Of hills we cUmbed together — not always for the
view.
Walking roimd our cages Uke the lions at the Zoo,
We see the phantom faces of you, and you, and
you,
Faces of those we loved or loathed — oh every one
we knew !
And deeds we wrought in carelessness for happi-
ness or rue.
And dreams we broke in folly, and seek to build
anew, —
Walking round our cages like the lions at the Zoo.
poem by Frederick William Harvey
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for Miguel
when you left
there was this delusion of white mustache
this baldness that is too consuming
for those who want
to be always young
i was then a little boy
crying on a velvet blue sofa
i was aware of what was said
from grandpa's mouth in fact
there were scribbles in my heart
like some claws of birds
you do not have to come back
to point me the way you passed
i am still aware about those pains
having loved solitude
there was this party in the house
when i was sixteen and there were hands
slapping your face and i too bleed a lot
having known you much better
on your deathbed
i am still aware of the things to come
i know the secret passage
and along the way i pick you some white flowers
it is bouquet of flowers that i must offer to you
because you understand my pains too
this is our world of pains
we exit soon only to be parted again
and we say we understand the flight of the fireflies
how their lights are drowned by the rain
how the leaves finally find solace
in the silence of utter darkness when we finally find
the truth of this existence
the life after
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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More Words
Sometimes words reach out
to help heal wounds.
Sometimes words reach out
just to claw at a feeble soul.
Sometimes words reach out
to seek help.
Sometimes words reach out
to bring life to idleness.
Sometimes words reach out
to expose a lie.
Sometimes words reach out
to undress from its truth.
Sometimes words reach out
for it needs to be spoken.
poem by Janine Alyssa Navarro
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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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Night Bats Play Catch
click I snap
click my fingers
bats fly past
my face a few feet
away bats like
love the audience
scaring them not
teasing them not
minds apart not
poem by Terence George Craddock
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White Space
I was dreaming of a white space
Had interposed itself between us two-
A blank wall; neither dark nor light
No recrimination there but silence
The silence that falls only at night.
Silence gone to snowy hazards
Like the shadows made from deeper blue-
And invisible but slippery edges,
As blindly groping in the darkness
To reach the haven- but you're not there yet.
Though I would wall myself with silence
And spend my life as one, not two-
Before I'd hurt another being,
Sometimes intentions brick the dam up
Before the devastation's seen.
poem by Patti Masterman
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