My morning began
Hunting for the Early Worm
Fuel for my life
It's a well fed blackbird sings
The most exquisite love songs
tanka by Res John Burman
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My Heart Sings
My heart sings.
My heart sings the songs of happiness.
My heart sings the songs of joy.
My heart sings the songs of peace.
My heart sings the songs of the Blues.
My heart sings the songs of the Gospel.
My heart sings the songs of good news.
My heart cries a melody for all to hear.
My heart sings the harmonies of love.
My heart sings a song of beauty
that comes from the Thorne Birds
just before they die.
My heart sings songs to keep me alive.
My heart sings songs for as long as it beats.
My heart sings forever.
My heart sings haluwasa.
My heart sings.
poem by Jennifer Burns
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Early In The Morning
Early in the morning and I cant get right
Had a little date with my baby last night
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Now its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to all the places where we used to go
Went to your house but you dont live there no more
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to your friends house but she was out
Knock on your fathers door and he began to shout get out there boy
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to doogie chain to get something to eat
Waiter looked at me and said you sure look beat
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To hear a blackbird sing
To hear a blackbird sing is such a pleasure to our ears
so full of promise, hope and without fear
there he stands so proud and at ease
as whispers blow along a summers breeze
of memories of long summers past
like warm still evenings upon the mind that last
of frantic family BBQ's with much chat and laughter
the blackbird sings of happy ever after
Their songs are so similar to angels sighs that blow
always for joy, not to boast or glow
if you are ever sat troubled remember those days
sat in the garden of a summers golden haze
single out the blackbird and listen to his joy of each day
and hold it close to your heart, for always
for no matter what joy or difficulties life brings
we can always rely on the joy in the way a blackbird sings
From the stillness of dusk to the glory of dawn
the promise of life like the birth of a fawn
songs that burst forth from the darkness to light
lifting us from the depths to a future so bright
it doesn't matter how down we can be
his song brings us hope for all to see
wherever we are, wherever we go
the blackbird will always be there with the best darn show!
poem by Alison Drew
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The Little Black Bird: A Poem For The Other Woman
the little black bird
goes home in a cave
just below her belly
between
her legs
it sings about love
that she always kills
for nothing
before midnight the
blackbird flies
seeking the warmth
of other blackbirds
it is cold and
dying
in her keeping
now she sings alone
like a blackbird
cursing
the trees and the flowers
she wants to disown the
blackbird
in exchange for the
earthworm
she likes it that way
wriggling
without any feet at all
pointed and
penetrating
the curse continues
it can never be hers
and the blackbird
keeps coming back
mocking her like
an old man
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Blackbird Metaphor
the Beatles had it
as the struggle for freedom of the blacks
that blackbird singing in the dark
wanting to be free
the Americans
had that blackbird swirling in Vietnam
that chopper that saved lives
that war that caused them humiliation
in the world's opinion
that lie of Nixon
Steven Wallace had eight ways of seeing
that blackbird
Noah sent that blackbird
that did not come back since it was happy
picking on the rotten flesh
of the remains of the dead
the ninth way
of seeing
disobedience
One writes again about the blackbird
that lives singing the songs of neurosis
in his mind
at winter time
The poet commits suicide
His colleagues bury him
with eulogies and ' what ifs'
One sleeps with a blackbird
The other sings with a blackbird
Someone flew away with a blackbird
and did not come back
since then
So many stories
So many poems are written
Now i have to write about this blackbird too
But there shall be no disturbance
No unhappy ending
I swear to you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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0398 The Blackbird's Song
Waking to the blackbird's song -
insisting, so it seems, on something close to joy and praise...
the sun's just breaking through the morning mist;
the smell of coffee and hot bread rolls,
the gentle stir of household come to life:
it's a good day, the best of days, right now.
Showered, with the inner glow of a man who's
just those few and precious minutes ahead of schedule
and thus with goodwill there to share -
and what?
Is goodwill quite enough, as you bounce into the office,
or (o hero) into the morning classroom, or
the matey pride of factory floor?
This is the tricky crux of this poem, and who am I...
now in this summer morning's glow of goodwill to all men
- and to all womankind, rejoicing themselves and you
in summer's clothes - is there a place
within this glow, for, go on say it, joy?
And if joy, is there, then, gratitude?
And if there's gratitude, is there, then, praise?
Meanwhile
the blackbird
just sings.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Hunting Season Is Open
Gun hunting season opens tomorrow morning
my husband is gathering his hunting gear around.
He'll be getting up really early in the morning
way before the break of dawn.
He's trying his special orange hunting cap on
so that he's not mistaken for a deer.
Us wives always worry about that you know
it is one of a hunter's wifes greatest fears.
The weather is suppose to be very cold and rainy
my husband says that is the best weather for hunting in.
Because the deer are on the move much more
then when it's warmer like some recent days have been.
I will say a prayer to our Lord above
asking that He protect all hunters, on this opening day.
And that they all come back with that Buck or Doe their after
and no bullets from their guns shot go astray.
poem by Linda Winchell
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The early blackbird
A blackbird has been sitting outside the window
for some time this morning, and
I’m trying to tune in to its blackbird thoughts,
if indeed it’s burdened with such tiresome
delaying tactics to action…
it seems indecisive, though; evidently, plumply,
having well breakfasted; does
the head switching left, right,
a little slower than with alarm,
signify some Hamlet thought?
it could be wondering, if,
in view of what a blackbird would call
global warming rather than
an early summer,
it should sing?
since the early bird, it must have been
taught, or intuited, catches the first mate..
I try looking at it severe of mind,
as mindless tool of Evolution
(and yes, me too…)
only concerned with food and sex
and sex and food,
and other internet concerns
in cyber blackbird space…
but that goes nowhere in the mind..
I open the front door a crack,
whistle a poor imitation of a blackbird’s song;
it twists its head for a moment
as of impatience at some irrelevant comment;
flies off; returns; like I do, when
I’ve lost the train of thought
that sent me somewhere in the house
but have forgotten what it was…
I’ll keep an eye out for it tomorrow…
and turn back to the computer,
remembering Nicholas of Cusa
who says, there is no other:
always, we are looking
at the face of God…
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Early Christmas Morning
Listen to the children sing
Watch them dancing all around the Christmas tree
Waiting for the opening
Early Christmas morning
All around the world is sleeping
Little children there's no peeping
Wait and see what Santa's bringing
Early Christmas morning
Early Christmas morning
Icicles and breakfast cakes
Friends and family we will celebrate
Sounds that joy and laughter make
Early Christmas morning
All around and far off places
Angels waken smiling faces
Wrapping us with love and graces
Early Christmas morning
Early Christmas morning
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper from Merry Christmas... Have A Nice Life
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early In The Morning
Oh I bet
You were a virgin
'Til you let me
Oh I miss your kiss
When you are gone
I was young and foolish
Didn't know what I was doing
Didn't know I'd lost you
'Til you were gone
Oh I miss your loving
When you are gone
Now I gotta get up
Early in the morning
Find me another lover
Now I've got to get up early
Every morning
'Cos the early bird
Always catches the worm
Now I've got to get up early
Every morning
Got to make up for the
Lesson I learned
Got to find me a lover
Who won't run for cover
Find me a lover
Who won't run for cover
Got to get up
Early in the morning
Find me another lover
Now I gotta get up
Early in the morning
Find me another lover
I was young and foolish
Didn't know what I was doing
Didn't know I'd lost you
'Til you'd gone
She had a pretty face
Drove me wild
I even wanted her to have my child
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Hear Music From The Wind
i hear music from the wind
it 's the arias of the diva air.
i hear the sad song from the conch
i keep it singing in my ear
i see the great love from the rays of the sun
spreading
embracing me this early morning
i taste the coffee-ness of coffee from the cup
i love the sweetness of sugar the creaminess of cream
i love the liveliness of life
i dance its dance and sings its songs and taste its taste
i face all things sitting down
in a lotus position
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Need For A New House....Or Home...
early morning
when the doors are still closed and the windows still tipsy
like the whole house
you fly away
the sun comes out with the clouds
early morning you fly away
away from it all
the clouds are floors and grasses
and you are a lonely bird among a flock of chairs
early morning you fly away
thinking about nothing
you fly away and you feel like a leaf inside
that gentle beast
it is a ride-awA Need For A New House....Or Home...ay
among the paradoxes of life
and its ironies
early morning there is this flight that takes you to a stop-over
of your life
no one knows that you are grieving
over a search for what you feel
the one you had which you lost
intentionally
among the flock of chairs landing early morning
on unstable floors
early morning you take a cab
you choose still
which house
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The early bird gets the worm.The early worm... gets eaten.
quote by Norman Ralph Augustine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Saw From the Beach
I saw from the beach, when the morning was shining,
A bark o'er the waters move gloriously on;
I came when the sun o'er that beach was declining,
The bark was still there, but the waters were gone.
And such is the fate of our life's early promise,
So passing the spring-tide of joy we have known;
Each wave that we danced on at morning ebbs from us,
And leaves us, at eve, on the bleak shore alone.
Oh, who would not welcome that moment's returning
When passion first waked a new life through his frame,
And his soul, like the wood that grows precious in burning,
Gave out all its sweets to love's exquisite flame.
poem by Thomas Moore
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Early Morning
(pal waaktaar/ mags)
Early morning
Eight oclock precise
I see the lonely august sun arise
Say you know
You will
Move me like you do
Out on the fields...
Im waiting the whole night through
Early morning, early morning, yeah
Ran the whole way
Down to the tracks
Through the doorway, then a last look back
Say you know
You will
Save me like you do
Out on the fields...
Ive waited the whole night through
Early morning, early morning, yeah
I climbed all the stairways
To find the rooftop clear
Got the shotgun lying with me here
Say you know
You will
Move me like you do
Out on the fields...
You know how it feels, yeah
Early morning, early morning, yeah
Early morning
Eight oclock precise
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early In The Morning
Ohh, early in the morning and its time I went down
So I go sown 'cause I know I can say anyway
Oh, I love you 'cause I want to
Oh, I love you 'cause I want to
Oh, I love you 'cause I want to
Oh, I love you 'cause I want to
Summer sun is shinin' in my eyes as I go down
To feel you around me makes my life worthwhile night and day
Oh, I love you 'cause I want to
Oh, I love you 'cause I want to
Early in the mornin', early in the mornin', yeah
Lazy days drift away in time as I go down
To see you smile is to know what love means all the while
Oh, I love you 'cause I want to
Oh, I love you 'cause I want to
Oh, I love you 'cause I want to
Oh, I love you 'cause I want to
Down early in the mornin'
song performed by by Bad Company
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blackbirds Can Dance
What an easy Spring day watching the garden grow
Then along comes a blackbird dancing, feet to toe
You might call it the worm-dance for tucker’s chance
That little critter was doing the two-step, at a glance
He hopped to the left and, then, two-steps right
I tell you that blackbird’s dance was rather alright
Guess you think I had nothing better to do…
Than to watch that little fella with his dance one-two
Sure I do; but the garden work was all done
Still, I was so amused for all the worms he got for fun
poem by ArmourQuill Hunter
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Dr Worm
They call me Dr. Worm,
Good morning, how are you? I'm Dr. Worm.
I'm interested in things,
I'm not a real doctor but I am a real worm,
I am an actual worm,
I live like a worm.
I like to play the drums.
I think I'm getting good, but I can handle criticism.
I'll show you what I know and you can
Tell me if you think I'm getting better on the drums
I'll leave the front unlocked 'cause I can't
Hear the doorbell...
When I get into it, I can't tell if you are
Watching me twirling the stick.
When I give the signal, my friend
Rabbi Vole will play the solo...
Someday, somebody else besides me will
Call me by my stage name, they will
Call me Dr. Worm,
Good morning, how are you? I'm Dr. Worm.
I'm interested in things.
I'm not a real doctor but I am a real worm,
I am an actual worm,
I live like a worm.
And I like to play the drums,
I think I'm getting good, but I can handle criticism.
I'll show you what I know and you can
Tell me if you think I'm getting better on the drums.
I'm not a real doctor, but they call me
Dr. Worm!
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Doctor Worm
They call me dr. worm.
Good morning. how are you? Im dr. worm.
Im interested in things.
Im not a real doctor,
But I am a real worm;
I am an actual worm.
I live like a worm.
I like to play the drums.
I think Im getting good,
But I can handle criticism.
Ill show you what I know,
And you can tell me if you think Im getting better on the drums.
Ill leave the front un-locked cause I cant
Hear the doorbell
When I get into it I cant tell if you are
Watching me twirling the stick.
When I give the signal, my friend
Rabbi vole will play the solo
Some day somebody else besides me will
Call me by my stage name, they will
Call me dr worm.
Good morning how are you, Im dr worm
Im interested in things.
Im not a real doctor,
But I am a real worm;
I am an actual worm.
I live like a worm.
I like to play the drums.
I think Im getting good,
But I can handle criticism.
Ill show you what I know,
And you can tell me if you think Im getting better on the drums.
Im not a real doctor,
But they call me dr. worm.
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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