The Mocking Bird
she is new here
and she does not know that on the roof of this house
beside a big tree
under the blue clouds
lives the mockingbird...
she is the butterfly
fluttering over the flowers
deaf
she never hears about two mocking birds talking to each other
in perfect understanding
without the use of any word
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Mocking Bird On The Tree Fronting The House...
a mocking bird
sits on a branch of a tree
that fronts the house that
papa made
papa is gone.
a mocking bird left but one
sunny day
after the heavy rains for months
the mocking bird comes back
it is bringing silence
unlike all the other mocking birds
in town
the mocking bird is dead
a boy abandoned by his mother
stoned it
now the window if you walk a little
distant from the house
and sit on a bench across the road
looks like a Cheshire cat
giving Alice that fable smile.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mocking Bird, Mocking Man
he is sometimes
tempted to mimic a mockingbird
that mimics him
most of the times
on top of the tree fronting
his window where he
faces the sun and moon
the mockingbird mocks him the moment he mocks it
and he in turn mocks the mockingbird that mocks him when he mocks it
both of them are bored
and have nothing good to do
they mock each other
morning noon and nigh time
bird man bird, man bird man bird
in truth the man wants to be a mockingbird
in truth the mockingbird wants to be a man
the problem is
no one is talking and no one is listening
no one wants to be himself/itself forever.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Hammock, A Dream, A White Butterfly
i was relaxing on a
hammock
there was this little
white butterfly
fluttering and fluttering
no hovering ever
no stopping
it rises up over the fence
of my house
and then it is gone away....
i slept and dreamed about
a little white butterfly
fluttering and never stopping
it flew away from my mind...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Blue Butterfly
blue butterfly
so blue fluttering alone
hovering on my yellow green leaf
and stopping for a while
on my shiny, brown twig
tell me if i am smooth
just tell me if
if am good
then leave
blue butterfly
do not ask if my heart is real
do not ask if you can have it
i do not have a heart anymore
for you see i am just this
tree, this twig, this leaf
but blue butterfly
if ever i have a heart
please
do not ask about it
i give it to no one
i am smooth
i am too good
to be owned by
someone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Frances 7
Fluttering
Moving lightly swiftly flying darting skimming
Like a yellow butterfly flitting passing flitting
From flower to flower from tree to tree
From cloud to cloud passing quickly
To depart then die this yellow butterfly
I have never heard it sing I have never heard it cry
Flitting fluttering lightly fluttering this lonely happy yellow butterfly!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You Must Understand The Mockingbird
at night
the mockingbird still
haunts her
it's nature is to mock
to imitate
it cannot get away from it
otherwise
it dies
otherwise it ceases to be
one good mocking bird
you must understand
nature
there are those who live
to copy
because they are born to be
that way
if you get irritated
by the mockingbird
that becomes
your own responsibility
pity,
soon you will cease
pity
the mockingbird shall sing
a funeral song for you
if not write an elegy.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mockingbird Franklin
Shes never known acceptance
Shes never known the world
She says I like to call myself m
But my real name is mockingbird
Mockingbird franklin
So how do you do
Mockingbird franklin
Im a lot like you
She says her mother is gone now
She says her mother got killed
I said Im sorry but is it true
Did she really name you mockingbird
Mockingbird franklin
Broke your heart in two
Mockingbird franklin
Im a lot like you
Mockingbird dont you change
Just because youre not like them
Oh mockingbird youre not the same
Alone along the sidewalk
Her steps are barely heard
Its kinda funny that its her name
cus shes nothing like a mockingbird
Nothing like a mockingbird
Mockingbird franklin
Dont it get to you
Mockingbird franklin
Im a lot like you
Im a lot like you
Its true
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Perfect Part 2
I don’t need perfect cloth
I don’t need perfect hair
What I need is a confidence
I don’t need perfect score
I don’t need perfect job
What I need is a support
I don’t need perfect word
I don’t need perfect dream
What I need is a chance
I don’t need perfect agreement
I don’t need perfect control
What I need is a solution
I don’t need perfect holiday
I don’t need perfect memories
What I need is a peace of mind
I don’t need perfect home
I don’t need perfect family
What I need is a comfort
I don’t need perfect love
I don’t need perfect life
What I need is an understanding
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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After Having Killed The Mockingbird....
to kill and bury a
mockingbird,
and then leave the place
with all
satisfactory achievement
to begin life anew
in that house facing a tree
where the mockingbird
used to be,
to enthuse oneself with
the silence
of the place
still leaves, no dust on the road,
nothing disturbing
ah, such a bliss!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Being There
'Oheneba'!
My world of words with the hero inside me;
And like a child from a virtuos woman,
Being there for me is everything.
Dreams come and true and love can take you on a ride!
For, 'Odo Oduro' is what i am talking about.
'Daben na odo beba'?
Being there for me is everything and,
You are the roof beneath the roof of my love.
Try to revisit my house like a tree beneath a tree,
And try to revisit my mind like a home beneath another house;
For being there forme is everything!
And i will take my story to the whole world.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Little Yellow Butterfly
Oh, liitle yellow butterfly
to this lonely house
please come in
and let your shadow
fill the empty wall
as I watch closely
till I fall asleep.
Oh, little yellow butterfly
to this lonely house
please come in
and change the color of my life
with your tiny yellow wings.
Oh, little yellow butterfly
to this lonely house
please come in
I have prepared flowers for you
so you can stay with me
without being lonely.
Oh, little yellow butterfly
to this lonely house
please come in.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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When We Soar
our spirits sometimes soar
we feel the wings of birds
inside our hearts
we feel elated by the most
simple thing
of having seen
a white butterfly hovering
fluttering upon
some tiny yellow flowers
of the narra tree
when we close our eyes
when we see nothing at all
when it is dark
we begin to see how
beautiful can everything be
oh, i do not have to travel
far and wide
just to be be, just to be with us
it is at the moment when our spirits sour
into the vastness of
our beings
that we become the universe itself
wider than space
longer than time
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Not Finished
A perfect night
the stars are sparkling bright
staring into the sky,
the little house in the creek
sits nestled under the tall mossy tree
the house aged by nature...beautiful
as the rain starts to pour
the tall mossy tree protects the house and its front door
the mossy tree bears the weight of the sky
as the house is kept dry
more clouds swarm in recklessly
lightning cracks as it sets fire to the tall mossy tree
the tree stands strong....
but i doesn't know if it can last long
as the rain runs down the tree's trunk and roots
like tears
poem by Wandering Scarlet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fundamental Of Liar Chapter CXVIII: I’m Just Talking To Myself
I’m not talking to you
I’m not talking to anyone
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not grumbling
I’m not cursing
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not insane
I’m not in trance
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not mocking
I’m not threatening
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not sharing secret
I’m not hiding something
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not mad
I’m not in rage
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not jealous
I’m not envious
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not afraid
I’m not in pessimism thought
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not whining
I’m not complaining
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not depressed
I’m not in foul mood
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not blaming
I’m not accusing
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not in denial
I’m not in confusion
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not informing
I’m not warning
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not against you
I’m not rebelling
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not help you
I’m not assist you
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not running some plot
I’m not in a mischief plan
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not in great grudge
I’m not in revenge mind
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not suspicious
I’m not curious
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not saying sorry
I’m not saying thank you
I’m just talking to myself
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Child's Plea....!
I am that kid,
Sometimes wise,
Sometime innocently
foolish,
But remaining ever curious to learn,
Anyone including you,
Be my teachers,
Clouds and rain, rainbow and trees,
Rivers and mountains,
fishes and lakes,
Kingfisher and woodpecker,
Even birds and flowers too!
I wonder at this dream world,
Wonderful stars shining in eyes,
Please be kind enough,
Let my child and its grand child,
Also wonder at beauty of this
world, Please kill not colourful animals
and birds,
Spill not the nature's gift, this
beautiful world is always
beautiful with colours of life
shining everywhere!
You may create beautiful glass
tree,
No bird will nest on it,
No bird can sing happily and perch its beak
its beak on it,
You may create artificial flowers,
Never liked by bees and butterfly,
you may create toy butterfly,
but that can't bring me thrill,
Come out to garden,
Let us play,
Promise me,
no life you ever try to slay.
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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There Is A Moment That Is So Perfect
There is a moment that is so perfect
that I do not want to disturb it with a word
as love becomes a perfect melody;
there is a moment that is so perfect,
that I do not want to disturb it with a word
when your glance frolic over me like a butterfly,
where any movement can hinder it
that I do not want to disturb it with a word,
when your glance frolic over me like a butterfly,
where love matchless radiate through each other
and I for moments long barely breathe,
when your glance frolic over me like a butterfly
where love matchless radiate through each other
there is a moment that is so perfect,
when you love me with an intimate knowledge,
where love matchless radiate through each other,
there is a moment that is so perfect
that I do not want to disturb it with a word
as love becomes a perfect melody;
there is a moment that is so perfect.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Nature At Dusk
Butterfly, butterfly, up so high
Your radiant colors as you glide
As the mockingbird sings so sweet and soft
Flowers of beauty and rich scents fill the air with tranquility and serenity
Bumblebees slowly and delicately hum their lullaby to all the creatures
The stars and the fireflies are nightlights to the creatures' babes
The wolf howls gently and sincerely to call the moon out of the clouds
Woodpecker beating his drum to tell the night it is time to overpower the day sky
At last, it is dusk
There is no movement or sound
The singing, the humming, the howling, the drums, and the wind too, all are silent and idle
Every creature is asleep and peacefully quiet
This is nature at dusk
poem by Caroline Bulleck
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X..... Peace
A pregnant coconut tree
Quadruplets about to be born
Through its gently shuffling leaves
Rays of the fast rising sun
allow a lovely sneeze
Music of an orchestra of birds
floating on sounds of breaking waves
Soft breezy air carries a smell of the sea
A feeling of close to perfect peace
engulfs my body, mind and soul
A small salamander runs by on awkward legs
The sea is blue, the sky carries fluffs of wool
In perfect harmony with the green of grass and trees
The peace goes on, a close to perfect peace
A butterfly flies by and the peace goes on
poem by Aufie Zophy
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A Dirge For Minette
I
Silently, silently the new morning awakes
and your hands are crossed over your breast
while you go to the eternal rest,
and deeply, deeply my heart aches.
II
Colourful new flowers are flowering,
with insects buzzing, birds with songs to sing
while I miss you
during this early spring.
III
Blue as your eyes the sky
is stretching, open and clear
while in it multitudes of birds fly
and I wish that you were here.
IV
Far too fleetingly you were with me
and this remains the earthly thing,
where no one is free
from death and the way that it stings.
V
In the early morning breeze at you grave
my words are fluttering here and there, fluttering
while in sorrow they rave
and even the willows are crying.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Triolet: The Mockingbird
Today the mockingbird
Is just a memory,
Yet soon it will be heard.
Today the mockingbird
Is silent — not a word
Can coax its melody —
For today the mockingbird
Is just a memory.
poem by Richard St. Clair
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