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Winged Man

The moon, a sweeping scimitar, dipped in the stormy straits,
The dawn, a crimson cataract, burst through the eastern gates,
The cliffs were robed in scarlet, the sands were cinnabar,
Where first two men spread wings for flight and dared the hawk afar.

There stands the cunning workman, the crafty past all praise,
The man who chained the Minotaur, the man who built the Maze.
His young son is beside him and the boy's face is a light,
A light of dawn and wonder and of valor infinite.

Their great vans beat the cloven air, like eagles they mount up,
Motes in the wine of morning, specks in a crystal cup,
And lest his wings should melt apace old Daedalus flies low,
But Icarus beats up, beats up, he goes where lightnings go.

He cares no more for warnings, he rushes through the sky,
Braving the crags of ether, daring the gods on high,
Black 'gainst the crimson sunset, golden o'er cloudy snows,
With all Adventure in his heart the first winged man arose.

Dropping gold, dropping gold, where the mists of morning rolled,
On he kept his way undaunted, though his breaths were stabs of cold,
Through the mystery of dawning that no mortal may behold.

Now he shouts, now he sings in the rapture of his wings,
And his great heart burns intenser with the strength of his desire,
As he circles like a swallow, wheeling, flaming, gyre on gyre.

Gazing straight at the sun, half his pilgrimage is done,
And he staggers for a moment, hurries on, reels backward, swerves
In a rain of scattered feathers as he falls in broken curves.

Icarus, Icarus, though the end is piteous,
Yet forever, yea, forever we shall see thee rising thus,
See the first supernal glory, not the ruin hideous.

You were Man, you who ran farther than our eyes can scan,
Man absurd, gigantic, eager for impossible Romance,
Overthrowing all Hell's legions with one warped and broken lance.

On the highest steeps of Space he will have his dwelling-place,
In those far, terrific regions where the cold comes down like Death
Gleams the red glint of his pinions, smokes the vapor of his breath.

Floating downward, very clear, still the echoes reach the ear
Of a little tune he whistles and a little song he sings,
Mounting, mounting still, triumphant, on his torn and broken wings!

poem by Stephen Vincent Benet
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Related quotes

Broken Wings

Broken wings
Broken wings
Twirls in ballroom gowns
Echos of glory
And reminders of things lost

Broken wings
Broken wings
Only feet to help carry on now
A thousand voices
Singing the same song

Broken wings
Broken wings
Feathers litter the ground
Where the proud used to stand
Where only broken wings remain

poem by Autumn Winds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Daedalus And Icarus

Daedalus says:

Go on sonny but remember that you are walking and not flying
the wings are just an ornament and you are stepping on a meadow
that warm gust is just the humid earth of summer
and that cold one is a brook
the sky is full of leaves and small animals

Icarus says:

The eyes like two stones return straight to earth
and see a farmer who knocks asunder oily till
a grub which wiggles in a furrow
bad grub which cuts the bond of a plant with the earth

Daedalus says:

Sonny this is not true The Cosmos is merely light
and earth is a bowl of shadows Look as here colors play
dust rises from above the sea smoke rises to the sky
of noblest atoms a rainbow sets itself now

Icarus says:

Arms hurt father from this beating at vacuum
legs are getting numb and miss thorns and sharp stones
I cannot keep looking at the sun as you do father
I sunken whole in the dark rays of the earth

Description of the catastrophe:

Now Icarus falls down head first
the last frame of him is a glimpse of a heal childlike small
being swallowed by the devouring sea
Up above the father cries out the name
which no longer belongs to a neck or a head
but only to a remembrance

Commentary:

He was so young did not understand that wings are just a metaphor
a bit of wax and feathers and a contempt for the laws of gravitation
I cannot hold a body at an elevation of a great many feet
The essence of the matter is in having our hearts
which are coursed by heavy blood
fill with air
and this very thing Icarus did not want to accept

let us pray

poem by Zbigniew Herbert
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Paradise: In A Symbol

Golden-winged, silver-winged,
Winged with flashing flame,
Such a flight of birds I saw,
Birds without a name:
Singing songs in their own tongue
(Song of songs) they came.

One to another calling,
Each answering each,
One to another calling
In their proper speech:
High above my head they wheeled,
Far out of reach.

On wings of flame they went and came
With a cadenced clang,
Their silver wings tinkled,
Their golden wings rang,
The wind it whistled through their wings
Where in Heaven they sang.

They flashed and they darted
Awhile before mine eyes,
Mounting, mounting, mounting still
In haste to scale the skies—
Birds without a nest on earth,
Birds of Paradise.

Where the moon riseth not,
Nor sun seeks the west,
There to sing their glory
Which they sing at rest,
There to sing their love-song
When they sing their best:

Not in any garden
That mortal foot hath trod,
Not in any flowering tree
That springs from earthly sod,
But in the garden where they dwell,
The Paradise of God.

poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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The Dream Star

Whisper, O wings of the wind! Sing me your song, O sea!
Grey is the weary world, and grey is the heart of me!
Into my shadowy heart pierce like the star of old,
Pearl of the tender dawn, kissed by the trembling gold!

Sing me the hope made sure, sing me the heart made strong!
Give me the battle-fire, give me the bugle-song

Onward ever and on, O swift, green bird of the sun;
Ever a vaster goal for the goal that thy wings have won.

Keen with a tireless beat is the rush of thy wings that soar;
But keener, swifter than thee is the vision that flies before.

What though we die forgot and sad for the song unsung!
Fresh from her thousand deaths ever the world is young.

For, ever the dream-world floats, a light on a misty bar,
And ever the grey earth follows the wake of that pilot star;

Follows a spirit ship that bears o’er a spirit sea
Shadows of thoughts unborn, phantoms of destiny.

Silver the giant sails loom through the amber haze,
And ever the helmsman Hope steers for the halcyon days;

And ever the voices call, out of the golden light,
Into the dreamer’s heart, sad in the lonely night—

Call like the ring of steel and thrill as of bugles blown,
Splendours of days to be, flaming in skies unknown.

Deep in the eastern skies glimmers that phantom star;
Dim in the distance dies the surge of the world afar.

Ah, but like broken swords, scattered along the van,
Perish the outpost souls that fall in the march of Man!

Ah, but they die not so; out of their ashes then
Flowers of immortal Love spring in the hearts of men!

Wings of the swift green Earth, ever and ever young—
This is the whispered word the wind of the morning sung!

This is the rune I heard flung by the ocean old,
Pearl of the tender dawn, kissed by the trembling gold!

poem by George Essex Evans
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Light Day and Night

A golden rain falls down

A golden dawn

A golden age

At last a Angel appears

She dreamt ever so sweetly

The rain comes down
Like a song
An angel plays a harp
A bird dances
And Joy is echoing
In the footsteps
And the shoes are running
As if with wings

A round the tree
Under the sun, angels dance
In circles and all night too
A large bee is sitting
As an angel blows in its ear
A purple rose appears

An angel bows, his head

Into the silence
And on his pillow

Sleeps with tears
Of love streaming down.
A dove calls and moves
Towards the Light

All angels sing
A fog comes down

An angel sings
Three angel’s wings
Spread out for flight

An eagle flies across the sky
Sharing a nest with a diamond
An angel flies by singing
So all the trees can grow
A sun is setting
Over a deep forest
All the birds and animals
Are sleeping now
A moon comes up
And some stars
And all the world

A star is singing about joy
Of the waves on the ocean
And the fish in the sea

And the dolphins jump

And a wave is running by
As a boat has many masts
Moves forwards, backwards
A song dissolves into the mists
Like a poem that soon passes
An angel is swishing
Above and below
And now a moon looks on
A rose grows
Ever so slowly
A candle burns quietly
A snail loves to walk

On the grass in the morning
And an angel flies home in the night
This is a prayer, given to the air

When the rains come down
And the tears fall, I will be

Holding you firm in my wings
I will step in the Shadows before you

The angel’s feather blows across
The wide skies, it falls at my feet
To my surprise it intrigues me
It warms me. it warns me
That love is coming
That truth is foretold
And that I am witnessed
I am a witness to love
Angel love of feathers keen.
Light feathers wanting to be
A song that comes down
Is sung, is light
A heart reaches out this day
No Night. a dream is shared
Angel’s wings, angel’s might
And a gift is brought into being
This cannot be matched
Under heaven and earth.
This truth has been granted
And a blessing to health.
Guard it, know it well
As it sings through the universe
As an angel would sing
In the morning as birds
Watch by, two feathers fall

From her graceful wings
Messages from the departed.
Various melodies are calling
Various paths back to her heart

Love’s refined and refrain.
And in that morning mist
When all around seems filled
Future dreams are lurking, waiting
For the moment when paths
Shall cross. Their Light shall shine

The water that runs smoothly
Downhill, over grass, and weeds
And flowers, all the same
As An angel carries an urn
Filled with birds, and treasures
And messages and laughter
Her heart opens up like a flower
And her feet dance as in the snow
All the ancestors stand up in smile
A Vague moon, showers its peace
And doves flies over

As an angel starts a journey
Coming home to all things
Small and great
I listened for the heart beat
Eternal, justified, complete
In the twinkling of an eye
The Journey had begun
Life was carrying me before it
In its Arms and in its way
Towards a destination pure
And sweet and at peace
Love was my joy was my family
Nature was before me
My Justice my guide
The veils of truth were parting
Layer after layer, tide after tide
In rhythms of rain and sunlight
And warmth. was born again…

poem by Char Pattrick
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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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Icarus

song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Feel You

I feel you
Your sun it shines
I feel you
Within my mind
You take me there
You take me where
My kingdom comes
You take me to
Leave me through
Babylon
This is the morning of our love
It's just the dawning of our love
I feel you
Your heart it sings
I feel you
The joy it brings
Where heaven waits
These golden gates
Back again
You take me to
Leave me through
Oblivion
This is the morning of our love
It's just the dawning of our love
I feel you
Your precious soul
I'm a whole
I feel you
Your rising sun
My kingdom comes
I feel you
Each move you make
I feel you
Each breath you take
Where angels sing
And spread their wings
Our love's on high
You take me home
To glory's throne
By and by
This is the morning of our love
It's just the dawning of our love
This is the morning of our love
It's just the dawning of our love
I feel you
Your precious soul
I'm a whole
I feel you
Your rising sun
My kingdom comes

song performed by by Placebo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ecstasy

The shore-lark soars to his topmost flight,
Sings at the height where morning springs,
What though his voice be lost in the light,
The light comes dropping from his wings.

Mount, my soul, and sing at the height
Of thy clear flight in the light and the air,
Heard or unheard in the night in the light
Sing there! Sing there!

poem by Duncan Campbell Scott
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When Icarus Did Fall

When Icarus did fall
his wings were scorched,
when Icarus did fall
a bolt of lightning did strike him
in the sea near to a island,
to help him there were nobody
when Icarus did fall

poem by Gert Strydom
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A Noon Song

There are songs for the morning and songs for the night,
For sunrise and sunset, the stars and the moon;
But who will give praise to the fulness of light,
And sing us a song of the glory of noon?
Oh, the high noon, the clear noon,
The noon with golden crest;
When the blue sky burns, and the great sun turns
With his face to the way of the west!

How swiftly he rose in the dawn of his strength;
How slowly he crept as the morning wore by;
Ah, steep was the climbing that led him at length
To the height of his throne in the wide summer sky.
Oh, the long toil, the slow toil,
The toil that may not rest,
Till the sun looks down from his journey's crown,
To the wonderful way of the west!

Then a quietness falls over meadow and hill,
The wings of the wind in the forest are furled,
The river runs softly, the birds are all still,
The workers are resting all over the world.
Oh, the good hour, the kind hour,
The hour that calms the breast!
Little inn half-way on the road of the day,
Where it follows the turn to the west!

There's a plentiful feast in the maple-tree shade,
The lilt of a song to an old-fashioned tune,
The talk of a friend, or the kiss of a maid,
To sweeten the cup that we drink to the noon.
Oh, the deep noon, the full noon,
Of all the day the best!
When the blue sky burns, and the great sun turns
To his home by the way of the west.

poem by Henry Van Dyke
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Vulture

I had walked since dawn and lay down to rest on a bare hillside
Above the ocean. I saw through half-shut eyelids a vulture wheeling
high up in heaven,
And presently it passed again, but lower and nearer, its orbit
narrowing,
I understood then
That I was under inspection. I lay death-still and heard the flight-
feathers
Whistle above me and make their circle and come nearer.
I could see the naked red head between the great wings
Bear downward staring. I said, 'My dear bird, we are wasting time
here.
These old bones will still work; they are not for you.' But how
beautiful
he looked, gliding down
On those great sails; how beautiful he looked, veering away in the
sea-light
over the precipice. I tell you solemnly
That I was sorry to have disappointed him. To be eaten by that beak
and
become part of him, to share those wings and those eyes--
What a sublime end of one's body, what an enskyment; what a life
after death.

poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Dear In The Headlines

Still in moonlight the scarlet sings
silver and black like piano keys
somewhere an angel gets her wings
call her for supper
and other things
still the the moonlight the scarlet sings
candy wrappers voices
pinned to the screens
somewhere an angel gets her wings
caught in the arms of a speakeasy
still in the moonlight the scarlet sings
bathing in the flashbulbs
and the legalese
somewhere an angel gets her wings
breathless and smoking chambers sings
of pages of magazines
stillin moonlight the scarlet sings
somewhere an angel gets her wings

poem by Patricia Schooff
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Freedom

I do not want happiness.
A little space is all that I want,
and a little freedom
to stretch my almost numb limbs.
My wings are broken now
My dreams all dead.

I would rather be Icarus,
fly high to the sun, escape the double death,
of life in this prison
where my dreams
meet their slow death everyday.

poem by Aimanu Begum
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From Spring Days to Winter (For Music)

In the glad springtime when leaves were green,
O merrily the throstle sings!
I sought, amid the tangled sheen,
Love whom mine eyes had never seen,
O the glad dove has golden wings!

Between the blossoms red and white,
O merrily the throstle sings!
My love first came into my sight,
O perfect vision of delight,
O the glad dove has golden wings!

The yellow apples glowed like fire,
O merrily the throstle sings!
O Love too great for lip or lyre,
Blown rose of love and of desire,
O the glad dove has golden wings!

But now with snow the tree is grey,
Ah, sadly now the throstle sings!
My love is dead: ah! well-a-day,
See at her silent feet I lay
A dove with broken wings!
Ah, Love! ah, Love! that thou wert slain -
Fond Dove, fond Dove return again!

poem by Oscar Wilde
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His Love Is Diagnosed with a Serious Illness

I love to listen when the blackbird sings
His sweet, sweet song which always brings
New hope to the heart, but what can I say,
There is such sorrow at the end of the day
As he lies there suffering with his broken wings! !
You bring me joy and lighten my heart
When I see you again after being apart,
So I think it's one of the most terrible things
That, like my blackbird, you have broken wings!
I curse the gods who give us such pain,
Who ruin our lives and drive men insane.
What the doctor told you is bound to depress
You, it's horrible and I must confess
I don't know what I can do, unless
You accept my love, because my heart says 'Yes,
I love you much more than you'll ever guess,
And I wish I could help you out of this mess! ! '

poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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To A Friend Whose Work Has Come To Triumph

Consider Icarus, pasting those sticky wintgs on,
testing that strange little tug at his shoulder blade,
and think of that first flawless moment over the lawn
of the labyrinth. Think of the difference it made!
There below are the trees, as awkward as camels;
and here are the shocked starlings pumping past
and think of innocent Icarus who is doing quite well:
larger than a sail, over the fog and the blast
of the plushy ocean, he goes. Admire his wings!
Feel the fire at his neck and see how casually
he glances up and is caught, wondrously tunneling
into that hot eye. Who cares that feel back to the sea?
See him acclaiming the sun and come plunging down
while his sensible daddy goes straight into town.

poem by Anne Sexton
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Psalm 116

Who steps down from the seat of glory?
Who comes down from the heavens above?
It's my Lord and my King who has heard my cry
Who flies to me on the wings of a dove

It's an incredible thing in the darkness
When its shattered by light from above
Just when I thought there was no more hope
You came down on the wings of a dove

I was falling ever deeper into darkness
And I could see no light from above
And I cried out with all that was in me
And you came down on the wings of a dove

You have delivered my soul from death
And you have filled my soul with love
You restored my crushed and broken heart
When you came down on the wings of a dove

poem by Frank McEleny
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I Did Not Die (Butterfly Vision)

I drempt I was a butterfly
In a hurricane;
The world was the storm,
I just wanted to fly...
The wind controlled
But could not contain me
For I would not quit -
Trees and mountains moved
All was tattered and torn
From the earth's core
To the surface of the moon...
Still I would not quit,
My desire to live, too deep
My heart too sure, too strong...
For years the savage storm raged
On and on...
My wings bent and nearly broken
The suns light gave out, ceasing to shine
Black smoke hid the sky
In that tremulous passing time...
And yet, I refused to die.
Houses crashed
Hearts broke
Indeed, life itself did churn and choke,
All so very lost,
For those who count such cost...
But, not I; No,
I refused to die!
My spirit too strong
My dear dream drempt for so long,
I would not stop
My hope I could not drop
I flew steadily on,
My goal the Western horizon
Where the sun sets bright
And the winds find calm
In the night... and now,
The storm has gone
The dusk so clear
The stars of vision draw ever near
Beckon hope's true dawn,
Sunrise is assured.
Dreams finally realized,
I kept my dream
I would not let it go,
I did not die.
Now, forever freely
May I fly...
I am the air
The wind
The sky!
On my wings shines the sun,
Says it to me: ' Welcome home
Little butterfly, well done.
You never sold your dream, so now
Freedom and lasting love
Are forever yours,
Never again
Will your wings be broken or torn,
By any storm. '

From thus dream
I did there awake,
With a feeling light as air
That nothing has been able to shake.
Now when things around get crazy
And my mind, like my heart
Feels so hurt, its purpose rather hazy,
I close my eyes... and let my soul go
To that far, inner place, where once again,
I am the butterfly
Whom shall never ever die.

poem by Smoky Hoss
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I Dream of a New Land

my soul chained with fears
caged in a dark place
cries with sorrowful tears
down my pale, hollow face

the notes of my song die
before even being born
my broken wings cannot fly
deep in my heart, I can feel
this sharp, constant thorn

I dream of a new land
the land of the blue skies
-the land of the free-
across this desert,
across this dry sand
across this stormy sea

will I dare to act on my dreams?
will I dare to rise and break my chains?
will I dare to free all the inside screams?
will I dare to reveal all my pains?

my soul without any fears
flies free in a colorful place
cries with new happy tears
down my bright, beautiful face

a new song is born in an instant
I carry it on my new silver wings
there’s no time and no distance
I’m born in the eternal existence
my heart forever sings