There Is No Swan Song
in my world
where the sun always shines
every morning in the islands of the Pacific
there can never be a swan song
there will always be some chirping of fledglings
in the nests in the trees
there is nothing that lasts
there are only those firsts.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
A Coin Of Two Sides!
Day is hot with the Sun burning all ruthlessly;
Night is calm with the Stars twinkling coolly;
Above the tree full of branches Moon shines;
Under the tree sit I on a bench taking snacks.
The Sea before me is a branch of Indian Ocean;
On the other side of Bay of Bengal is Port Blair,
The capital of Andaman & Nicobar Islands along
Thailand, Indonesia and Philippines islands coasts.
Indonesian islands are affected by Tsunami due to
Earth quakes on the ocean bed of Pacific Ocean!
Pacific Ocean areas are affected by global warming
Whose tail end effects affect Bay of Bengal too…..!
Calmness of one side and calamity of other side are
Nature’s two sides of the same coin of the world…..!
poem by Ramesh T A
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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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We were flying on a winged vehicle that would do reentry different than we had ever done before. So all of those were firsts. Test pilots truly love firsts.
quote by Robert Crippen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Springtime
Spring brings the red-breasted robins
To fill the early morning hours
With their cheery chirrs that beckon
The sun to waken the flowers.
Dewy heads of dandelions
Are first to stir from nighttime sleep
Like little yellow rising suns;
And from the trees in nests are cheeps
From newly hatched robin fledglings.
On the dew-covered grass below
A parent thrush struggles, tugging
At a worm lodged in its dark hole
While silent shadows fade away
And springtime births another day.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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A Swan Song(dying sentence)
Remember me, remember my swan song,
I can't re-orient myself,
I can't live it all over again,
I can't re-orient myself,
I can't live that stain of my plastered smile again,
Let this be the last moment,
Let me say the last good-bye,
It won't count anything now,
So let me lay in silence,
Life has treated me well and I have had enough of it,
Lets end this game,
Enough of milling in and out,
Hear my swan song,
And let this end now,
I need to be away,
away from these thorns,
far far away,
Where you'll only see my memories,
my shadows,
my untold stories buried after me,
and my last swan song,
Hear my swan song,
I feel like a fish out of water,
from pillar to post,
fallen back upon,
Let me be buried under sand,
let me give my final test,
I'll never return, its time to sing,
sing my last swan song,
Hear my swan song,
maybe this moment or the other,
my soul would rest in peace,
before disappearing,
let me sing,
sing my swan song,
I only remember now the memory lived in me,
a perfectly encapsulated morsel,
of a good past,
from piebald brush strokes swaying,
to barren now, that I'd become,
As I'll say my last goodbye,
hear my swan song,
because now you'll never hear my voice again,
for ever and ever and ever...
Written on 5/6/11
poem by Ayesha Riaz
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Chirping Birds
the morning here
is always the sound of chirping birds
because the trees
have been their homes at night
when the sun rises
the birds fly away again
and when the sun fades
they come back
to their nests
and home
the night hums the song of silence
bird's eyes closing again
to the golden sheen
of the bright moon
the white owl flaps its wings
on a nocturnal adventure
in harmony with the bats
friends of the night
some shadows lurk in the night
in the pursuit of happiness
some souls are restless
on dreams unfulfilled
some wake up dwindling at dawn
opening the fridge for a glass of cold water
switches on the computer
and begin again
anew to another poem
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sonnet: God is Kinder to Man
A wild tree grows amongst the broken stones
And rocky land: I wonder how at all?
Its greenish fruits make nests for ants and drones;
With natural glue, they weave it like a wall.
With time, they bend and twist the flattened fruits;
A cozy nest gets made that lasts for long;
And when it dries, switch on to newer shoots;
They guard their larvae with a marching song.
Though God grows trees for ants/bees to make nests,
Yet, man fears God may not him well provide;
But human beings are God’s heavenly guests;
And God is our Master, Friend and our Guide.
What love exits the heart that made us all!
And longs to take us back ev’r since our fall.
poem by John Celes
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Chirping Bird
chirping bird chirping bird
chirp no more
the sun has come
and it is time for you to sing
chirping bird sing
chirping bird sing a song for the sun
it has come
to give you the clouds and the air and
the song for you to sing
chirping bird chirping bird
sing with the sun
sing that song for me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Song Of Joy Sounds Up
A song of joy sounds up when the day begins
in respect as if every swallow, dove and weaver
worships their creator at the brake of day.
A song of joy sounds up
when the sky is open and blue as ink,
when the bright white sun lights its torch
while the morning star still shines blue-white,
while water rushes and shines in the brook
as if a great morning calls everyone to action
soaking hearts and souls with true love
and a song of joy sounds up...
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Bless Of My Own Silence....
in this place
the first thing that i hear every morning
is the song of the birds
on top of trees
as they prepare to leave
after a night's sleep
as i open my window
and light is still young like some eyes blinking
i wonder
what are these birds up to
they do not build their nests here
they just come
spend a night and then leave and are back again
on the same hour of the same night
i try to ask more questions
that i myself have to answer
but then
something comes up within
the reasons do not really matter
it is their songs
the harmony with the wind
the joy of the trees
the bliss
of my own silence....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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THE BLISS OF MY OWN SILENCE (revised)
in this place
the first thing that i hear every morning
is the song of the birds
on top of trees
as they prepare to leave
after a night's sleep
as i open my window
and light is still young like some eyes blinking
i wonder
what are these birds up to?
they do not build their nests here
they just come
spend a night and then leave and are back again
on the same hour of the another night
i try to ask more questions
that i myself have to answer
but then
something comes up within
the reasons do not really matter
it is their songs
the harmony with the wind
the joy of the trees
the bliss
of my own silence....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Tell me, O Swan, your ancient tale
Tell me, O Swan, your ancient tale.
From what land do you come,
O Swan? to what shore will you fly?
Where would you take your rest,
O Swan, and what do you seek?
Even this morning, O Swan, awake, arise, follow me!
There is a land where no doubt nor sorrow have rule:
where the terror of Death is no more.
There the woods of spring are a-bloom,
and the fragrant scent 'He is I' is borne on the wind:
There the bee of the heart is deeply immersed,
and desires no other joy.
That Early Morning.....
this is what happened
that morning all i heard was the sound of chirping birds
haggling for a home upon those crown of trees
luscious leaves firm branches
tarring twigs
it might be an illusion since when the morning light came in profusion
upon those grounds
there is nothing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When You Love A Woman
In my life I see where Ive been
I said that Id never fall again
Within myself I was wrong
My searchin aint over...over
I know that
When you love a woman
You see your world inside her eyes
When you love a woman
You know shes standin by your side
A joy that lasts forever
Theres a band of gold that shines waiting somewhere...oh yeah
If I cant believe that someone is true
To fall in love is so hard to do
I hope and pray tonight
Somewhere youre thinkin of me girl
Yes I know...i know that
When you love a woman
You see your world inside her eyes
When you love a woman
You know shes standin by your side
A joy that lasts forever
Theres a band of gold that shines waiting somewhere...oh
Its enough to make you cry
When you see her walkin by
And you look into her eyes
When you love a woman
You see your world inside her eyes
When you love a woman
Well you know shes standin by your side
A joy that lasts forever
Theres a band of gold that shines
When you love a woman...
When you love, love, love, love
When you love a woman
You see your world inside her eyes
song performed by by Journey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Island
Islands call out to me like the highlands that I always see in my dreams of home,
I am never alone when I'm there.
Islands, like so many dreams, are like canyons, but off the main stream.
And there's no one there, the dreamer is always alone.
And the mighty blue ocean keeps rolling on every shore, like the spirit that binds us together,
we are so much more than islands.
Islands belong to the sea like the dark sands of my memory.
When the morning comes they are stepping-stones to the sun.
And the mighty blue ocean keeps rolling on every shore, like the spirit that binds us together,
we are so much more than islands, islands.
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sing Me A Swan-song Not
Sing me a swan-song not, the tacit allegory
Of all the shadows that squander in the squalid vale
When the Sun, kingly, circumnavigating in circumspect
All over the gardens of plush askance - sing me a swan-song not.
Sing me a swan-song not, pale lover
For as the ides dawn a marching twine
Here I wait, like a tavern-frequenter, longing to behold
The intoxication of your supple wine,
Your dank submission, and your obsequiousness resembling
A flower toadied; a stem of savvy mysticism.
Sing me a swan-song not, in and out of the madness
The drizzle upon the pliant seethe of gray fire carries
The semblance of the quietus: have you seen a taciturn storm
Upon a battered doorstep love? That is I, a calm tempest -
An angst-ridden farcical or perhaps, the behest of the lustre
Of romance. And so sing me a swan-song not, dear love
Traipse alongside in an entwined manner, a sequestering specification
Of the gracious moon in the midnight soiree of unsheathed dreams.
Sing me a swan-song not, never, not even for a day, love
The fountains of bliss are situated in each wayward corner
Of the pallid walls where we break and amalgamate ourselves
Again - that is where I found you, wincing away into the sultry air
A soul confined to the thresholds of a bewailing thousand-shards;
Sing me a swan-song not, I will croon the lullaby of a
Thousand-fabled joys and a too-sudden image cast into
These eyes. Sing me a swan-song not, as I knock upon
Your doorstep, waking you in your unsettling slumber,
Professing love, like a flame whilst speaking, tongue in a knot:
Love, sing me a swan-song not in the time of your iridescences!
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
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Islands
This song appears on four albums, and was first released on the seasons of the heart album, and has also been released on the earth songs, the john denver collection - sunshine on my shoulder an
Very best of john denver (single cd) albums.
Islands call out to me
Like the highlands that I always see
In my dreams of home
I am never alone when I am there
Islands like so many dreams
Are like canyons but off the main stream
And theres no one there
The dreamer is always alone
And the mighty blue ocean
Keeps rolling on every shore
Like the spirit that binds us together
We are so much more than islands
Islands belong to the sea
Like the dark sands of my memory
When the morning comes
They are stepping stones to the sun
And the mighty blue ocean
Keeps rolling on every shore
Like the spirit that binds us together
We are so much more than islands
Words and music by john denver
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Across The Fields
Oooooh...
Well, they left then in the morning
A hundred pairs of wings, in the light, moved together
Oooooh...
In the colors of the morning
I looked to the clouds in the cirrus sky and theyd gone
Across the marshes
Across the fields below
Oooooh...
I fell through the vines and I hoped they would catch me below
Oooooh...
If only to take me with them there
Tell me the part that shines in your heart on the wind
Across the marshes
Across the fields below
Oooooh...
I fell through the vines and I hoped they would catch me below
Oooooh...
And the reeds blew in the morning
Take me along to the places youve gone when my eyes looked away
Tell me the song that you sing in the trees in the dawning
Tell me the part that shines in your heart and the rays of love forever
Please take me there
Aaaaah...
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As There Aren`t Safe Nests...
A migrating bird chirps into my ears,
'Can you make a nest for me that will be safe for ever? '
I don`t know what he means by a safe nest
For my nest has been on the verge of a collapse.
He flies away dreaming about a safe nest.
That leaves me with a question, ' Where to fix a safe nest? '
Safe nests should never be on the branches of trees
For trees themselves are tormented by storms and quakes.
Safe nests shouldn`t be on the roofs of man`s homes either
For his mischevious kids may throw away the eggs.
Safe nests should not be under the water or in the skies
For the fury and the terror of these elements are disastrous.
Safe nests shouldn`t be anywhere that eyes see or ears hear
For there are humans living on this earth.
You migrate my dear bird to anywhere you feel it safe
And never return to these unsafe homes.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Tenderness
Light with words of spring
Inside of you I see a garden
You radiate
Nothing disguised lasts
Serene shore in silent morning
Orchids of orange joy
Lovers as natural as waves
Children laughing in the breeze
Ships as mystical as stars
How can I make you feel beautiful?
Hearts need to love
Now the moon replaces the sun
She shines tonight like a chandelier
Her blue gown like waterfalls
Her fingernails painted silver
Tenderness can be a temptress
Tenderness in thigh high boots
Tenderness like a divine knife
Now the morning shines
She smiles like a little girl
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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