Three Black Birds High Up In The Air
three black birds high
up in the air
flying
playing this early morning
on their
swift wings
i heard a single shot from the
hill and one black bird fell
the other two birds continue
to fly away
so frightened
they continue flying away
from that hill
a man with a brown cap emerges
and picks a dead black bird
on the rocky ground
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
One Black Bird Dead
three black birds high
up in the air
flying
playing this early morning
on their
swift wings
i heard a single shot from the
hill and one black bird fell
the other two birds continue
to fly away
so frightened
they continue flying away
from that hill
a man with a brown cap emerges
and picks a dead black bird
on the rocky ground
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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T-birds
Circle high, circle low.
Jammers fly, t-birds.
You show, you show, whiplash go.
You show, you show, t-birds. mighty bird.
T-bird, my mighty bird.
On the dot in the slot, tie the knot.
On the dot timed kisses.
In the slot on the dot, tie the knot.
In the slot, no misses.
Mighty bird.
T-bird, my mighty bird.
T-bird, mighty bird.
Black sun conquerer.
Two thousand years ago... a great race... warriors... lived in... they had many gods... mayans... gods... mazatlan... (if you can fill in these blanks please email [email protected])
Black sun worshipper.
Coil it up, wind it out, strike it hot!
Coil it up plumed serpent.
Coil it up, wind it out, strike it hot!
Coil it up, my t-bird.
Serpent curl.
T-bird, rule the world.
T-bird, mighty bird.
Black sun born again.
Oh I love my t-bird, t-bird.
song performed by by Blondie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Single Black Rose
A single Black Rose to turn the tide
A single Black Rose to make one die
A single Black Rose to ensnare the soul
A single Black Rose to widen that hole
A single Black Rose to melt the heart
A single Black Rose to force a start
A single Black Rose to entwine the bodies
A single Black Rose to dictate the deaths of these
A single Black Rose to lie upon her breast
A single Black Rose to stop the tears from soaking his vest
A single Black Rose to mourn this memory
A single Black Rose to become a plot in this cemetery
A single Black Rose to take a life
A single Black Rose to end his strife.
(8/21/2007)
poem by Michael Koelliker
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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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Unrequited Love: A Metaphor
early that morning
the sun shines spreading
itself
warmly upon an island
in the middle of
nowhere
the water is dark and
deep and
so cold
and you shall see
black birds flying away
until
they are all gone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When you have shot one bird flying you have shot all birds flying. They are all different and they fly in different ways but the sensation is the same and the last one is as good as the first.
quote by Ernest Hemingway
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Story To Tell....
the images of light
like needles from the sun this morning
actually, there are no threads
and nothing to sew
actually, there are no significances
except some few
every word must have a story for you
and you may ask me
but always i agree to disagree with you
words have their own lives their own existence
i am only a vehicle
i am only a body to this ghost
for we are nothing but wings of some black birds
that hover on our backs
when they are through they all leave us
and they take all the wings they have given us in our imagination
we fall asleep and when when we wake up
we check if we are still us mirrored in the pond of still waters
our hands touch our faces
sliding through our smooth bodies
then we say, goodbye black bird
and thank you for making us live all over again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Beak Kind To Birds!
Beak kind to birds both near and far,
Both high and low as well...
To me, each bird's a superstar!
In fact, to me, they're swell!
Beak kind to birds and show you care
With titbits now and then...
And watch with wonder as they share
Their breakfast once again!
Beak kind and keep your cats at bay...
Else feeding birds take flight!
It's nicer seeing birds at play
Than watching them take fright!
Beak kind to birds, give them their space
So they may co-exist...
For none on Earth can take their place,
So they'd be sorely missed!
Beak kind to birds, they'll flock to you -
They're all our feathered friends!
It doesn't matter, black or blue...
Beak kind - 'cos it makes sense!
poem by Denis Martindale (2003)
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A Black Single Rose.
A single black rose.
A single black rose to carry the load,
A single black rose to turn the road,
A single black rose to touch the soul,
A single black rose to widen your hole,
A single black rose to melt your heart,
A single black rose to force a start,
A single black rose to make you cry,
A single black rose to make you dry,
A single black rose to help you climb,
A single black rose to make you lie,
A single black rose to take a life,
A single black rose to take away strife.
poem by Natasha Ligons
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Under The Water
The bird was
Flying
Under the water...
Under the water
Fishes and frog
Also swmming...
How the birds
are flying...? ? ?
It is not qustine...
You also
Go and see
Any lake...
Sincerly watch it..
Natualy
Birds are flying sky;
Shado will be
Seen under
The water...
Sky also there:
Only way its true
Shadows...
The birds are
Simply flying
Under the water......
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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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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The Fate Of The Black Bird
the black bird flies alone against the blue sky
it is lonely and that is the truth that lies in every black feather of its strong wings
if only it can change its course
and find a place where there are other black birds like it
perhaps it will turn back and learn to sing the song of the black flock
it is not a way of life that its father had handed to it upon its beak and claws
it is not even a choice and never did it ever imagine that it shall be alone against the blue skies
against the black nights and against the towering peaks of mountains
there is no other way of rationalizing about it except fate,
it is the destiny that chose its path and it is simply following the dictates of the stars.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Stars In The Heavens....
i was the praying
mantis on the grass
when we first met
here in this
spot of mud and
water
we talked
and i made promises
like turning
dusts into butterflies
and stones into
birds
and birds into
stars
in that black sky above us
now i am watching
all those stars of you
once stones
without minds of their own
once dusts without
meaning
once birds flying without
directions
i like the way all of you glitter
as i sit upon this strip of grass
covered by
black skies
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Black Bird...
it was her black bird
first that saw and i never stopped thinking since then
figuring what is the meaning of having
those black wings
flying
and to where is this direction heading?
from my mouth is borne the
blackbird bearing my own name
at the tip of its
beak
and it is flying now too low to touch
the needles of the pines
do you not see that it is tired
and wants to hover on one of those twigs?
how can you relate to blackbirds?
they grown from our throats and comes out
from our lips
and they keep on flying
wishing you can keep it flying still
higher and higher
until you finally give up
and tell the truth
about its
flesh and bones
until you remove all its black feathers
and burn all them
for the gods to smell.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fallin' Upside Down
(Derek George/John Tirro)
There's no gravity up here
It's kind of hard to explain
Every time I'm holding you
It's like backwards rain, yeah
You lift me up like a kite on a string
Like a bird on newfound wings
So high on you, I'm floating and
Flying around
Your love's like fallin' upside down
You've got me so lightheaded
It's a dizzy mood
Spinning uncontrollably
And gaining altitude
You lift me up like a kite on a string
Like a bird on newfound wings
So high on you, I'm floating and
Flying around
Your love's like fallin' upside down
Look at me
Used to be, I could keep my feet
On the ground
When you said you could take
Me higher
You weren't playing around
(You weren't playing around)
You lift me up like a kite on a string
Like a bird on newfound wings
So high on you, I'm floating and
Flying around
Your love's like fallin' upside down
song performed by by Rascal Flatts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Across The Red Sky
Across the red sky two birds flying,
Flying with drooping wings.
Silent and solitary their ominous flight.
All day the triumphant sun with yellow banners
Warred and warred with the earth, and when she yielded
Stabbed her heart, gathered her blood in a chalice,
Spilling it over the evening sky.
When the dark plumaged birds go flying, flying,
Quiet lies the earth wrapt in her mournful shadow,
Her sightless eyes turned to the red sky
And the restlessly seeking birds.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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Icarus
Early in the morning sunlight
Soaring on the wings of dawn
Here I'll live and die with my wings in the sky
And I won't come down no more
Higher than a bird I'm flying
Crimson skies of ice and fire
Borne on wings of steel I have so much to feel
And I won't come down no more
Sail on, sail on, I will rise each day to meet the dawn
So high, so high
I've climbed the mountains of the sky
Without my wings you know I'd surely die
I found my freedom flyin' high
I've climbed the mountains of the sky
Floating on a cloud of amber
Searching for the rainbow's end
Earth so far below me,
I'm here alone, free
I can't come down no more
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Icarus - Borne On Wings Of Steel
Early in the morning sunlight
Soaring on the wings of dawn
Here I'll live and die with my wings in the sky
And I won't come down no more
Higher than a bird I'm flying
Crimson skies of ice and fire
Borne on wings of steel I have so much to feel
And I won't come down no more
Sail on, sail on, I will rise each day to meet the dawn
So high, so high
I've climbed the mountains of the sky
Without my wings you know I'd surely die
I found my freedom flyin' high
I've climbed the mountains of the sky
Floating on a cloud of amber
Searching for the rainbow's end
Earth so far below me,
I'm here alone, free
I can't come down no more
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Birds cheer others
Birds ae flying
Do not shout or beat gong
Birds are not pests.
Birds cheer others
Do not pollute atmosphere
Do not cut down trees
Birds are settling.
Take care of the birds
Life take care of you
Take care of you cheerfully
Birds are flying
Life is smiling.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The Sermon of the Birds
I was clearing thirty or forty acres once
Out in the western range near Nightcap Mountain.
And as I was working, I heard a gathering of the crows
Singing out in a jungle gully. Their clamorous cries
Drawed the attention of all the other birds.
Jackass and butcher-bird, soldier-bird, sparrow-bird,
Scrub-robin, magpie, and the black and white cockatoo,
They all flew down to the crows in the jungle-gully.
And I followed after their clamour, and in the midst
Of all the splendid excitement of the birds
I heard one feller was singing above them all.
It was the lyre-bird, the mimic of all the scrub,
And they held this beautiful sermon or half an hour.
The birds would stop and listen a while but still
That beautiful voice, the lyre-bird, would keep on singing
And draw then and join them all to a chorus again.
And as I stood there and listened, the Scriptures was
Hitting me all the time. The sermon seemed
Like the prophecy when Christ shall come and summon
The birds, the valleys, the hills, the mountains and the ocean
To sing in praise of the grace and the reckoning day,
And the beauty of earth in the splendour that He crated.
And I went back and told my people of what I had seen,
And the sermon of praise I heard in the mountain range.
poem by Roland Robinson
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