geese flying south
over the school bus
a perfect V
haiku by Ben Gieske
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The Goose who Loved Golf
On the flight path down from Quebec
in the recent past, they say,
The lead goose saw a foursome
on the fairway, hard at play.
Their clothing was intriguing
Bright Argyles and Staid plaids
Little lackeys followed them,
carrying their bags.
The goose brigade lost interest
in proceeding South that day.
Instead they landed on the course
intent on watching play.
The lead Goose now spent all his time
At Bethpage, on the Black,
and honked golf commentary
to all his fledgling flock.
This lead Goose was the First,
brave Avian pioneer,
who broke the pattern going South-
instead he wintered here.
The Geese are protected by the law,
so we have no recourse.
We can't hunt down these honkers
who are greasing up the course.
Within one human lifetime-
a revolutionary change.
the geese have all stopped flying South
They're students of the game.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Almost a Perfect Day
My memory of almost a perfect day
the weather was sunny and perfect
seem like it was beginning of spring
or maybe possibly it was in summer
almost a perfect day
when I was the age of six or seven
the two of us mother and I both took
a walk to a cool mountain spring
close by was a chattering brooke
set back in the leafy green forest
everything was in such harmony
almost a perfect day
walking back down the narrow path
our home set farther down the lane
we encountered a family of geese
which weren't in a very good mood
couple of these geese were agressive
with plans to chase and bite anything
or anyone who came close to them
almost a perfect day
poem by Rachel Nichols
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The Perfect school
THE PERFECT SCHOOL
A place where a student worships his teacher as a god,
The heads of the children before their teacher nod.
The place is the school where teachers give education,
It’s a school where there is afforestation.
A school that has all the beauties,
Is a perfect school whose students have all the qualities.
A school whose students will become president and magic vista,
A school whose students will become Rabindranath Tagore and Mother Teresa.
The Perfect School is a school whose trees will always be uploaded with fruits of joy, success and happiness,
A school whose students will never have a future of darkness.
That school will conquer the world,
In that school, music will be sung by birds.
CONTRIBUTED BY:
Gautam Kumar Sharma
poem by Gautam Sharma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Tune of The Wild Geese’s Tomb
Among the earthly mortals, I ask: what is Love
That engages couples through life and death?
This flying pair, traveling from south to north,
Had old wings, which survived several summers and winters.
Staying paired is happy,
But to severe, bitter: a trap in itself where devoted lovers
Still long to be trapped. He must have had a thought:
For whom shall I trail a forlorn shadow flying over
Ten thousand miles of gray clouds
And mountains of night snow?
On this road by Fen River, the old pipes, and drums
Are gone. Only bleak smoke and vast woods are left.
Vain to evoke the ancient ghosts. The Mountain Spirit
Also, wails in vain. Heaven envies the geese,
Not believing they’ll return to dust like orioles
And swallows. There they’ll remain, for a thousand
Autumns, awaiting the poets of later generations
Who is coming, rhapsodizing and quaffing
Just for a view of the wild geese’s tomb.
poem by Yuan Haowen
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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April In My Heart
H. meinardi / hoagy carmichael
Theres snowflakes in the sky
And geese are flying high
But its april in my heart again
The devil got his due
Loves holiday is through
Love and I have made a happy start again
Through leaves lie on the ground
The world just turned around
It isnt fall at all you see
Its spring that I have found
Theres frost in central park
At five its almost dark
Whats the difference
When youve heard loves sweet amend
Theres snowflakes in the sky
And geese are flying high
But theres april in my heart again
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My House
The image of the poets in the breeze
Canadian geese are flying above the trees
A mist is hanging gently on the lake
My house is very beautiful at night
My friend and teacher occupies a spare room
Hes dead, at peace at last the wandering jew
Other friends had put stones on his grave
He was the first great man that I had ever met
Sylvia and I got out our ouija board
To dial a spirit, across the room it soared
We were happy and amazed at what we saw
Blazing stood the proud and regal name delmore
Delmore, I missed all your funny ways
I missed your jokes and the brilliant things you said
My dedalus to your bloom, was such a perfect wit
And to find you in my house makes things perfect
I really got a lucky life
My writing, my motorcycle and my wife
And to top it all off a spirit of pure poetry
Is living in this stone and wood house with me
The image of the poets in the breeze
Canadian geese are flying above the trees
A mist is hanging gently on the lake
Our house is very beautiful at night
Our house is very beautiful at night
Our house is very beautiful at night
Our house is very beautiful at night
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flying V
Flying V
If you're standing underneath it, you will see when you inspect it
That a flying V is made of flying geese
The pointed end flies in the lead
So when it flies, it's hard to read
You've got to tip your head to see
Flying V, Flying V
It's a V
In the window of a music store, or on stage at a rock show
Now a flying V is made of a guitar
The pointed end flies in the lead
So when it flies, it's hard to read
You have to be upside-down to see it
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Revolt 25 June 2009
Bursts of noise
officials in full school uniform enter
excitement as we
hug and laugh
I’m wearing Tiaan’s track suit
his school cap – his blazer
he wears himself
I’m bursting with delight
so many people
commemorating 1976 when
South Africans refused
to go to school
I can’t wait to run through
the building from floor one
to ten to check on everyone
see what the others
have done
Sylvia looks fantastic in
her school gear, Karen will soon
be here and the day will really
begin – no work is the general cry –
that is what they did in 1976
we have to stick to the spirit
of their revolt that dismantled
apartheid and
bought freedom for all!
25 June 2009 - Department Arts and Culture
commemorates the 1976 school protests
against apartheid in South Africa.
poem by Margaret Alice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Free
Birds flying free
where can you be going?
I just wish knowing
would help me be free.
Flying south in winter,
no more cold for you.
Ample berries on the trees
under skies so blue.
Flying north in summer
where the nests you'll build
where twigs and feathers
will do fine
'til your nest is filled.
Birds flying free
never will there be
escape from the landscape
like yours, for me.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gates Of Paradise
I'm in school staring out the window,
The school gates open, almost telling me
With words to just go, walk out,
Be as free as speech.
Cars cruise along,
Engines quiet and hoarse,
Drivers sunk into soft leather seats
Having a nice day.
I wish that was me right now.
Then partners stroll along,
Hands clasped tight,
May be walking in no real direction but
Having a nice day.
I wish that was me right now.
I'm halfway through the day,
But it has only begun.
If time was a plane, it would be in a hangar,
Still, not flying.
In the end though, I think of
The silver lining in a cloud.
The suffering of school
Brings beauty in life.
School will turn on the flashing lights
Of that airport landing strip,
Lead me in the direction of
Flying freely out of them school gates,
And through the gates of paradise.
Miracle of the Geese
The Catholic school children gathered
obedient to the bell, silent, waiting
for morning prayers
to begin another day,
when geese
raced suddenly above
tight formation crossing the
playground, stroking high air, shattering
our discipline with lusty
call, savage
song!
And the children,
raising their arms to heaven,
shouted in praise
at the wonder and glory,
the holy presence,
the miracle of the geese!
poem by Steven Federle
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Perfect Part 2
I don’t need perfect cloth
I don’t need perfect hair
What I need is a confidence
I don’t need perfect score
I don’t need perfect job
What I need is a support
I don’t need perfect word
I don’t need perfect dream
What I need is a chance
I don’t need perfect agreement
I don’t need perfect control
What I need is a solution
I don’t need perfect holiday
I don’t need perfect memories
What I need is a peace of mind
I don’t need perfect home
I don’t need perfect family
What I need is a comfort
I don’t need perfect love
I don’t need perfect life
What I need is an understanding
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flying
Forever is ending
But you see a deer
Love isn't bending
It's gone with the beer
And I know that I am feeling better
Mary wants to love me so I'll let her
Chains and the irons
Have fallen off of me
I am much much lighter
Everyone can see
And I know that I am feeling better
Suzi wants to love me so I'll let her
I'm flying
I'm flying
Look at me
I'm flying
I'm flying higher than ever before
Ain't lying
No crying
Look at me
I'm flying
I'm flying higher than ever before
Singing so loudly
I'm drowning out the birds
Singing nothing special
Just any happy words
And I know that I'm feeling better
Sally wants to love me so I'll let her
I'm flying
I'm flying
Look at me
I'm flying
I'm flying higher than ever before
Ain't lying
No crying
Look at me
I'm flying
I'm flying higher than ever before
I'm gliding
I'm soaring
I'm riding
I'm sweeping
I'm flying high
I'm flying
And I know that I am feeling better
Mary wants to love me so I'll let her
I'm flying
I'm flying
Look at me
I'm flying
I'm flying higher than ever before
Ain't lying
No crying
Look at me
I'm flying
I'm flying higher than ever before
I'm flying
I'm flying
Look at me
I'm flying
I'm flying higher than ever before
Ain't lying
No crying
Look at me
I'm flying
I'm flying higher than ever before
I'm flying
I'm flying
Look at me
I'm flying
I'm flying higher than ever before
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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School Just School
School we need it
school, friends
school you have teachers
school is great
high school is even better
college, PARITES
school you mite find your true love
new experiences everyday
school, dances
school just school
school who dose not love it
school is fun
school, preps
school, classes
school, math, science, computer classes
school is great love it
school just school
we need school
poem by Kerri King
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The Princess: A Medley: O Swallow
O Swallow, Swallow, flying, flying South,
Fly to her, and fall upon her gilded eaves,
And tell her, tell her, what I tell to thee.
O tell her, Swallow, thou that knowest each,
That bright and fierce and fickle is the South,
And dark and true and tender is the North.
O Swallow, Swallow, if I could follow, and light
Upon her lattice, I would pipe and trill,
And cheep and twitter twenty million loves.
O were I thou that she might take me in,
And lay me on her bosom, and her heart
Would rock the snowy cradle till I died.
Why lingereth she to clothe her heart with love,
Delaying as the tender ash delays
To clothe herself, when all the woods are green?
O tell her, Swallow, that thy brood is flown:
Say to her, I do but wanton in the South,
But in the North long since my nest is made.
O tell her, brief is life but love is long,
And brief the sun of summer in the North,
And brief the moon of beauty in the South.
O Swallow, flying from the golden woods,
Fly to her, and pipe and woo her, and make her mine,
And tell her, tell her, that I follow thee.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Beautiful snow sight,
Geese flying to southern lights
Now gone with the wind
haiku by Ken e Hall
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a glittering pond
bronze reflection of sunset
a geese flying low
haiku by Alice Cuenca
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Do Not Worship It
Caught in the wind, the eagles sway and swing,
Fortune is a balancer of their wings, like the wind.
May fortune ride like the wind as the breeze blows,
Going to the celebration is of flying there,
Geese are also flying in the sky, less than us.
Gases and liquids bulge in the air,
How destructive it feels from the horizon!
How are we told this fate, if we ourselves hate?
poem by Naveed Akram
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On my way to school (ballad attempt)
It was a pleasant day
walking down the road
too bad it's so early
carrying a heavy load
on my way to school
As I walk down the same street
taking in what I see
quiet birds are flying by
as if they want to flee
on my way to school
then I see a body
lying on the ground
looking cold and brittle
its face showing a frown
on my way to school
I get to the ravine
and smell the fresh air
and hearing the running water
thinking life is fair
on my way to school
I arrive at my goal
tired as can be
the day has only started
and I already want to sleep
because of my journey to school
poem by Venus Fire
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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