Flying The Cage
Hope
your having
a better day
and that
you managed
to get
to work
safely again.
That is
as always
the most
important thing.
Another hour
and your free
to fly the cage.
poem by Terence George Craddock

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Inside A Cage
he is inside a cage
and he does not really want to be inside the cage forever
the cage however is different
it is not locked and no one guards it
he is free to go out and get in anytime
this cage of his choice
he wants to get out of this cage for good
he just can't
he loves to be caged somehow
despite the protest of his reason
he goes out to free himself but only after a while
he gets inside the cage again
in fact he is more inside it and locking himself in it even
he loves what this cage can provide him
his sense of privacy his taste for an enclosure
his genes his sense of wanting to be alone
his beloved prison where he keeps his sins
it is where his ecstasies are hatched and grown
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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A Bird Story, The Hint...
watching you in full beauty
is an attempt of my hand to set myself free
i have the key and the door is not locked
there is no use for the key even
no one is locking me in and i am always
free at any time of the day to go
and be the wings of the bird that
my mind imagines every hour of the
waking day
there was once a bird captured by an enemy
put inside a cage and well feed
and well attended
it sings of freedom and love and beauty
in one sad song
the enemy decides to open the cage to set it free
the bird doubts this time
the enemy has become a loyal friend
the cage has become its sweetest home
the words are the same as arranged in that desired ending
ah, they all live happily ever after....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Work, Sleep, Work, Sleep, Work
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work:
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work.
Oh free me please with gentle ease
From work, sleep, work, sleep, work!
This odium, pounding tedium
Of my work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
Just whisk me off to lands afar
From work, sleep, work, sleep, work -
That grinding train of rhythmic pain
Called ‘Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.’
Poor neural circuits fizzle and pop
In work, sleep, work, sleep, work,
In trying to make some sense of all this
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
But Hark! I see a golden gleam -
A saving spirit of hope:
‘You’re fired! ’ He screams. What news to bear,
This wondrous hangman’s rope!
So now I’m free, released from all this
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work -
Eternal peace and rest for me, no
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Hemingway Never Did This
I read that he lost a suitcase full of manuscripts on a
train and that they never were recovered.
I can't match the agony of this
but the other night I wrote a 3-page poem
upon this computer
and through my lack of diligence and
practice
and by playing around with commands
on the menu
I somehow managed to erase the poem
forever.
believe me, such a thing is difficult to do
even for a novice
but I somehow managed to do
it.
now I don't think this 3-pager was immortal
but there were some crazy wild lines,
now gone forever.
it bothers more than a touch, it's some-
thing like knocking over a good bottle of
wine.
and writing about it hardly makes a good
poem.
still, I thought somehow you'd like to
know?
if not, at least you've read this far
and there could be better work
down the line.
let's hope so, for your sake
and
mine.
poem by Charles Bukowski

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We Can Work It Out
Now that I know your name and U know mine
Ain't it just about time that we got 2gether?
We should make such beautiful music 4ever
Oh, 2gether 4ever
Put your trust in me, I'll never let U down
Cuz I know I can count on U 2 help me make it
Ain't no doubt about it
We can work it out, work it out
I know we can work it out
Work it out, work it out
Ooh wee!
CHORUS:
Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out
(Everybody sing) Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out
Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out
(Everybody sing) Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out
Makin' music naturally, me and W.B. (CHORUS)
Music 4 the young and old, music bound 2 be gold
Work it out
Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out {x2}
Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out (Can we work it out?)
Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out (I want 2 work it out)
Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out
(Everybody sing) Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out
Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out
(Everybody sing) Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out
Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out
(Everybody sing) Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out
Makin' music naturally, me and W.B
song performed by by Prince

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Little Man
Little little man, little little man,
set free your canary that wants to fly.
I am that canary, little little man,
leave me to fly.
I was in your cage, little little man,
little little man who gave me my cage.
I say "little little" because you don't understand me
Nor will you understand.
Nor do I understand you, but meanwhile,
open for me the cage from which I want to escape.
Little little man, I loved you half an hour,
Don't ask me again.
poem by Alfonsina Storni

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Domain Name Server (DNS) is the Achilles heel of the Web. The important thing is that it's managed responsibly.
quote by Tim Berners Lee

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eternal Freedom
They say the truth sets us free but lately it feels like it's been choking, suffocating, and binding me
Some people would describe me as free as a bird say I go with the flow, at least that's what I've heard
I hope this is just a phase because lately I've been feeling caged, I must have thought a thousand times about flying free, but somethings always been there thank God to stop me
As long as I can remember I've been in this cage as a matter of fact in this 'cage' I guess you could say I've been raised
But as the years go on I'm not gonna lie my love and need for this 'cage' has started to die and all because of my stupid desire to fly
'Why dont you just fly away free? ' You may ask me, because I'm afraid you see of what would happen if the ones I love were to catch me being something I promised I would never be
I'm afraid they'd no longer be proud of me and everything I've worked so hard for would be down the drain you see
'What is freedom? ' You may ask me, honestly I don't know none of us do really, for this whole world is caged and waiting to be set free and I long for the day when our savior will give us the key
The Key To Our Freedom Eternally
poem by Tiger Lily Love

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VI
The tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest.
They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.
The free bird cries, "O my love, let us fly to wood."
The cage bird whispers, "Come hither, let us both live in the
cage."
Says the free bird, "Among bars, where is there room to spread
one's wings?"
"Alas," cries the cage bird, "I should not know where to sit
perched in the sky."
The free bird cries, "My darling, sing the songs of the
woodlands."
The cage bird says, "Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of
the learned."
The forest bird cries, "No, ah no! songs can never be taught."
The cage bird says, "Alas for me, I know not the songs of the
woodlands."
Their love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing
to wing.
Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to
know each other.
They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, "Come closer, my
love!"
The free bird cries, "It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of
the cage."
The cage bird whispers, "Alas, my wings are powerless and dead."
poem by Rabindranath Tagore from The Gardener (1913)

Submitted by Silvia Velea
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Sweet Thing
Its safe in the city, to love in a doorway
To wrangle some screens from the door
And isnt it me, putting pain in a stranger?
Like a portrait in flesh, who trails on a leash
Will you see that Im scared and Im lonely?
So Ill break up my room, and yawn and i
Run to the centre of things
Where the knowing one says
Boys, boys, its a sweet thing
Boys, boys, its a sweet thing, sweet thing
If you want it, boys, get it here, thing
cause hope, boys, is a cheap thing, cheap thing
Im glad that youre older than me
Makes me feel important and free
Does that make you smile, isnt that me?
Im in your way, and Ill steal every moment
If his trade is a curse, then Ill bless you
And turn to the crossroads, and hamburgers, and
Boys, boys, its a sweet thing
Boys, boys, its a sweet thing, sweet thing
If you want it, boys, get it here, thing
cause hope, boys, is a cheap thing, cheap thing
song performed by by David Bowie

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sometimes with people their work is the most important thing to them, and sometimes the work enables you to do other things that are more important to you. I probably am closer to that.
quote by James Spader

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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In Your Bird Cage
If I were a little bird,
Would you play with
me?
Catch me for your cage,
Hold me tenderly.
Someday, place me safely
there,
In your cage, without a care.
Find a blanket oh so warm,
To protect me from lifes
storm.
One day when its hot and
dry,
Provide a drink, so I won't
cry.
Always help to quench my
thurst,
So my little tummy won't
burst.
Give me love each day through,
This I will return to you.
In the bird cage of your
heart,
This little bird, will not
depart.
poem by Heather Burns

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A New Hope
What does hope mean? ?
Hope is the bright shining light which keeps darkness at the bay
Hope is the gentle cold breeze on a hot summer day
Hope is to remain positive when it gets tough
hope is seeking more when others think of having enough
Hope is dreaming of tomorrow
Hope is simmering under sorrow
Hope is sparkles when tears in our eyes
Hope is a beautiful thing & beautiful things never dies
Hope is as light as a feather
Hope keeps all of us together
Hope is ubiquitous and free of cost
hope is the last thing ever lost.....
poem by Ultimate Cyan

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What is hope.................
What hope means
Hope is bright shining light which keeps darkness at the bay
Hope is gentle cold breeze on a hot summer day
Hope is to remain positive when going gets tough
hope is seeking more when others think u had enough
What hope means
Hope is dreaming of tommorow
Hope is simmering under sorrow
Hope is sparkles when tears in our eyes
Hope is a beautiful thing & beutiful things never dies
What hope means
Hope is as light as a feather
Hope keeps all of us together
Hope is ubiquitous and free of cost
hope is the last thing ever lost.....
poem by Vineet Bansal

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The Tame Bird Was In A Cage
THE tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest.
They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.
The free bird cries, 'O my love, let us fly to the wood.'
The cage bird whispers, 'Come hither, let us both live in the cage.'
Says the free bird, 'Among bars, where is there room to spread one's wings?'
'Alas,' cries the caged bird, 'I should not know where to sit perched in the sky.'
The free bird cries, 'My darling, sing the songs of the woodlands.'
The cage bird sings, 'Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of the learned.'
The forest bird cries, 'No, ah no! songs can never be taught.'
The cage bird says, 'Alas for me, I know not the songs of the woodlands.'
There love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing to wing.
Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to know each other.
They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, 'Come closer, my love!'
The free bird cries, 'It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of the cage.'
The cage bird whispers, 'Alas, my wings are powerless and dead.'
poem by Rabindranath Tagore

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A caged bird`s plea
In the cage for years,
this cage my home,
a wingless bird
forgotten how to fly
You have cut my wings Oh! man
in the cage let me be,
my folks are away, know not where
do not set me free
poem by Dr Madhavi Grace

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Work
Andy was a catholic
The ethic ran through his bones
He lived alone with his mother
Collecting gossip and toys
Every sunday when he went to church
Hed kneel in his pew and say
Its work
All that matters is work
He was a lot of things
What I remember most hed say
Ive got to bring home the bacon
Someones got to bring home the roast
Hed get to the factory early
If youd ask him hed tell you straight out
Its work
No matter what I did it never seemed enough
He said I was lazy, I said I was young
He said, how many songs did you write
Id written zero, Id lied and said, ten
You wont be young forever
You should have written fifteen
Its work
You ought to make things big
People like it that way
And the songs with the dirty words
Make sure your record them that way
Andy liked to stir up trouble
He was funny that way
He said, its just work
Andy sat down to talk one day
He said decide what you want
Do you want to expand your parameters
Or play museums like some dilettante
I fired him on the spot
He got red and called me a rat
It was the worst word that he could think of
And Ive never seen him like that
Its work
I thought he said its just work
Andy said a lot of things
I stored them all away in my head
Sometimes when I cant decide what I should do
I think what would andy have said
Hed probably say you think too much
Thats cause theres work that you dont want to do
Its work
The most important thing is work
Its work
The most important thing is work
song performed by by Lou Reed

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fierce Storms
Fierce are storms when they first appear,
Killing the school, killing the family,
When strikes are managed in the atmosphere.
The allegiance forming can be a career,
Kinsfolk are blamed for it actually,
Fierce are storms when they first appear.
The damage is a conflict, of a charioteer,
Waging war of a storm additionally,
When strikes are managed in the atmosphere.
Gods are of a stormy nature, like a chandelier,
The work is able, of a tempest working abnormally,
Fierce are storms when they first appear.
A school admits us when the weather is to cheer,
How do we fight in class and work fitfully?
When strikes are managed in the atmosphere.
The leisure of the skies is about what is near,
My moments stray into oblivion foolhardily,
When strikes are managed in the atmosphere,
Fierce are storms when they first appear.
poem by Naveed Akram

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I think it was the preparation and every thing Lombardi represented, you know, about hard work and that every game was important. So when you get to the real important games, you were ready to go.
quote by Ray Nitschke

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eat every thing
Eat every thing
Every day
Eat every thing...
Heart attack free...
Eat every thing
Every day
Eat every thing
B.P. free...
Eat every thing
Every day
Eat every thing
Suger disies also free...
Eat every thing
Every day
Eat every thing
You are not feel free...
Understand too
Eat every thing
Every day
Did not eat every thing...
Some thing stop
For eating...
Take good for eat...
Good for think+health...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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