Blistering Attack
A peacock becomes non-violent
keeping the warheads
in his tail. In bird hour
who wants to blink?
The chicken runs amok.
Lying motionless was
painful for being slaughtered.
Subversion was more acceptable-
than falling in love. The bare
chest shows a gored scar.
They have started a dance
to entice a herd of pachyderms.
Bleeding? No. They have
cobbled an army of bedbugs
to start a violent protest
against the moon.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The guy was infected with bird flu because he took a sick chicken, slaughtered it and and then ate it.
quote by Thaksin Shinawatra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Peacock
A pleasant stroll,
The peacock takes
On its way back,
Each evening.
The sun has set;
The moon has come;
The air is cool;
’Tis twilight time!
The peacock walks
Effortlessly,
Amongst house-sites,
On lanes of own.
All through the way,
It feeds on leaves
That sprouted new,
A few days’ old!
A feast to eyes
Of young and old,
The peacock runs
On seeing men.
A hardy bird
With colored plumes
That gives its stroll,
A majesty.
Across the fence,
Over the bush,
It gently flies,
If need should rise.
It makes no noise,
On way back home;
It has walked miles
Unknowingly!
No snake dare near
The alert bird
That wards off foes
By flying low.
And when it’s dawn,
The dancing starts
On terraces,
As pea-hens watch!
The national bird
Of India,
Is protected:
‘So, please don’t kill! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-6-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Proud Peacock
I am the Peacock,
the beautiful bride
of the bird kingdom.
I am in no doubt
fairer than the cock
for I dwarf its pride
with feathers that stand-out.
I am the Peacock
who desires serfdom
from the bird kingdom,
for I long to usurp
the title of king
from the strong Eagle
who soars atop
with its air-borne wings.
Though fit as fiddle
with an awesome strength,
gliding the sky’s length
at a blistering pace,
yet dreaded for a face
that is void of grace.
I am the Peacock,
the elegantly clad.
Humans would be mad
to contend with me,
for shame you would see
if unclad they be.
poem by Joseph C Ogbonna (19 January 2015)
Submitted by Joseph C Ogbonna
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The Mockingbird
At first it seemed a game
Between the criminally insane.
A bird risking death without a care
To provoke this one, from the air.
Flying by the outstretched head
Ignoring the threat that other's dread.
Darting back and forth
In what appeared mindless mirth
As it teased this one of blackness
Intent only in causing distress
To this one of Nature's lowest creatures
That Eve discovered had other features.
The snake remained motionless
Seeming to ignore this flighty pest,
Then slowly raised his head
Above the surrounding grass, and instead
Of lying silently,
Motionless, patiently.
He challenged this demon of unrest
The long-tailed airborne pest.
His tongue darting out as if to warn
The bird that his scorn
Would be answered quickly by
A strike, as he flies
Nearer and nearer to the grassy stranger
Who seemed to pose no impending danger.
As if rising to the challenge, in mock
Of the snake, the bird feigned an attack
From one angle, reversing in mid-air
And came in a fast swoop, as if from no where.
The battle was over, the bird had won
As the snake dropped his head and was on the run.
Now attacking from the rear
The snake had much more to fear
As the bird with outstretched tiny talons
Plucked the tip of the tail and raised it to the heavens.
Having no defense from this attack
The snake squirmed and flipped its back.
Too late to strike at the offender
It was equivalent to surrender,
But the bird, no quarter given
Plunged again from the heavens.
Again and again he attacked
While the snake squirmed on its back.
Then as suddenly as it had begun
The mockingbird had had enough of his fun
And landing in a branch, on the fly,
Serenaded his mate, nesting nearby.
poem by Sidi J. Mahtrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The tulip is, among flowers, what the peacock is among birds. A tulip lacks scent, a peacock has an unpleasant voice. The one takes pride in its garb, the other in its tail.
Tender Buttons [Chicken]
CHICKEN.
Pheasant and chicken, chicken is a peculiar third.
CHICKEN.
Alas a dirty word, alas a dirty third alas a dirty third, alas a dirty bird.
CHICKEN.
Alas a doubt in case of more go to say what it is cress. What is it. Mean. Why. Potato. Loaves.
CHICKEN.
Stick stick call then, stick stick sticking, sticking with a chicken. Sticking in a extra succession, sticking in.
poem by Gertrude Stein
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In terms of weapons, the best disarmament tool so far is nuclear energy. We have been taking down the Russian warheads, turning it into electricity. 10 percent of American electricity comes from decommissioned warheads.
quote by Stewart Brand
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You can't be suspicious of a tree, or accuse a bird or a squirrel of subversion or challenge the ideology of a violet.
quote by Hal Borland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Peacock
a peacock meets a peahen
on a grassy garden
'what the hell' says the peahen
to the peacock
the peacock asks
'why the hell? '
and the peahen
snobs the peacock
and says
'yours is just a peasize! '
and the peahen leaves
the peacock for good
and they know
they cannot live
happily ever after
for sure
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All political revolutions, not affected by foreign conquest, originate in moral revolutions. The subversion of established institutions is merely one consequence of the previous subversion of established opinions.
quote by John Stuart Mill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Weird-Bird
from the wire chirp
on the wire chirp
frantic head
to and fro
to and fro
chirp, chirp, chirp
little bird on a wire
head and beak
to and fro
to and fro
ten times in a second
tail up, tail down, tail up, tail down
the tight feathered bodice
doing a twist
legs angled tight on tiny wire
a tightrope walker
chirp, chirp, chirp
looking for some fun
looking for a companion to share its day
chirp, chirp, chirp
inspired by
Weird-Bird
Birds are flyin' south for winter.
Here's the Weird-Bird headin' north,
Wings a-flappin', beak a-chatterin',
Cold head bobbin' back 'n' forth.
He says, 'It's not that I like ice
Or freezin' winds and snowy ground.
It's just sometimes it's kind of nice
To be the only bird in town.'
Shel Silverstein
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A New Flair
and so the peacock having
survived from a
broken wing
(sigh! it could have
been a broken heart)
now rises up
from the bushes
struts head high on the
park
under the trees
and fans herself with her
multicolored tail
i could not help
(identifying
myself with her)
and i said directly from
spontaneous
instinct,
' I like this
beautiful bird'
how i wish somehow that like
an eagle
it can also learn the art of flying
and trick the
air
with its new
flair.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crow Black Chicken
(laurence wilson)
Well, I went on the mountain
And I gave my horn a blow
Thought I heard some purty gal say
Yonder come my beau
Crow black chicken and crow for a day
Crow black chicken and fly away
Crow black chicken and-a ...
I like chicken pie
Well, the hardest work that ever I done
Is plowin a field of rye
The easiest work that ever I done
Was eatin chicken pie
Chicken crow for midnight
And chicken crow for a day
Along come an owl, lord, have mercy
And stole my chicken away
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Merry Bard
ZULEIKAH! The young Agas in the bazaar are slim-wasted and wear
yellow slippers. I am old and hideous. One of my eyes is out, and
the hairs of my beard are mostly gray. Praise be to Allah! I am a
merry bard.
There is a bird upon the terrace of the Emir's chief wife. Praise
be to Allah! He has emeralds on his neck, and a ruby tail. I am a
merry bard. He deafens me with his diabolical screaming.
There is a little brown bird in the basket-maker's cage. Praise be
to Allah! He ravishes my soul in the moonlight. I am a merry bard.
The peacock is an Aga, but the little bird is a Bulbul.
I am a little brown Bulbul. Come and listen in the moonlight.
Praise be to Allah! I am a merry bard.
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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What the peacock has too little on his head, he has too much on his tail.
A peacock has too little in its head, too much in its tail.
A peacock has too little in its head and too much in its tail.
Ode to Chickens
An Ode to Chickens
Oh chicken, oh chicken,
With orange little feet,
All white and fluffy,
So good to eat,
Oh chicken, oh chicken,
I will get you so fat,
Then I will kill you,
And eat you at last
poem by Trevor Cummins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Interim
The earth is motionless
And poised in space…
A great bird resting in its flight
Between the alleys of the stars.
It is the wind’s hour off….
The wind has nestled down among the corn….
The two speak privately together,
Awaiting the whirr of wings.
poem by Lola Ridge
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