
Silence will carry your voice like the nest that holds the sleeping birds.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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SONNET: And This is Life!
Two Birds, a male and female met at last;
They found the tree on which to build their nest;
But soon, their little ones came rather fast;
The Birds hadn’t time for love-making or rest!
The Wind blew strongly; scorching was the Sun;
The Rain fell heavily upon their nest;
Rearing the young ones was both strain and fun;
Even a Snake came to their nest as guest1
But God helped them to find the worms for food;
And Spring replaced the Winter’s freezing cold;
The Birds laboured all life as best as could;
Their young ones turned adults; and they grew old!
When Death came like a robber in the night,
Both Birds never offered the slightest fight!
poem by John Celes

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Set them free..They will multiply..
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time,
colorful birds to colored birds,
chirping birds to singing birds,
flying birds to walking birds,
cunning birds to love birds,
Watching birds is just a lesson,
making mind to have a vision.
collect the twigs to make the nest,
one by one, they think the best,
choose the right tree,
just high and free,
Making the nest perfect,
without any single defect,
The birds toil together or alone,
all day long until it is done.
I bought two love birds,
that were kept in a cage.
Hung the cage under the balcony,
above the reach of dogs not felony.
chirping disturbed their sleep,
Nikko, the dog set them free.
Only two flew away,
but I have a few dozens now,
making their nests,
right in front of me, on the trees.
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

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Voice breach the wall of silence
Voice breach the wall of silence
A baby's cry
The mother
Collection from around the
Wearing hats questions
Uttered after a long silence
Why?
Headers reversed
Tongues bridled
Eyes froze
Deaf silence
The child cries
Yell
Treacherously killed, however, the occupier
Humility
Stop the child from crying
Dry tears
Carry Stone
Cried a high
Not to cry
No to injustice
No treachery
No to occupation
Voice breach the wall of silence
poem by Mohammed AlBalushi

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Quiet
Waiting for the voice
The sound of silence
The secrets, the heart beat
The autumn is gone
Where are the birds hiding
When are the flowers blooming
The winter is coming
with no snow
For the sunshine sleeping
For the sea in the night
All in dark, all in depress
How can I pray for the happiness
Pray for the romance
Pray for the spring
Freedom From...
the nest no matter
how warm
cannot keep the birds
forever
there is always a day
ripe for flying away
the fish too cannot live
forever
in the mouth of its mother
there is a time in the sea
for swimming away
and finding one's
new destiny
mother's arms that cradles
you
gives way to
your new found freedom too
no nest, no corals, no arms
holds a bird, a fish, a boy
forever
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Two birds one nest
In a nest two birds live together
In Between two banks of a river
Water flows and life goes better
One dove and many hopes under
One sky holds many stars above
When two hearts fly we call it love.
poem by Abdul Wahab

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Introduction to Silence
Silence upon other silence grows;
Taller than any skyward cathedral,
Wider than divisions, between two brothers.
The only sincere silence is natural,
Or found by a flickering candle’s flame,
And the latency, of a sleeping child.
After a death, some silence may roar
Down zigzagging corridors, of dazed;
Haunting midnight's vertiginous dreams.
Numbness opens vast reservoirs of quiet
And in the resultant- preternaturally stilled-
Silence sometimes finds its earthly voice.
I now present to you, Silence itself-
Bereft of courtesies, or dignified flourishes;
Bare as a babe at death- or birth.
poem by Patti Masterman

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In the dusk of the evening the bird of some early dawn comes to the nest of my silence.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Silence
I got a feeling
Everything's gonna be alright
And I still find my way
And I heard
It's always darkest before the storm
So come on let it rain
Everything was different when I was seventeen
The world was so much brighter
Now I finally found the truth
Of what they hid for me
That world was so much kinder
Silence
Don't hear a sound
But my own voice
Silence
Is what it is
By my own choice
I believe
That we were meant to learn from our mistakes
And stumble along the way
Now I know
That people are gonna grap what they can take
Then just turn away
Everybody's searching
But no one really knows the truth
The world is upside down
What it's all about right now
Will soon turn to gray
Their promises have faded
Silence
Silence
Silence
Don't hear a sound
But my own voice
Silence
Don't hear a sound
But my own voice
Silence
Is what it is
By my own choice
All my little merry friends
Have turned their backs on me
Excuse me if I'm jaded
I'm so tired of people telling me
How it should be
Their promises have faded
Silence
Silence
Silence
Don't hear a sound
But my own voice
Silence
Don't hear a sound
But my own voice
Silence
Is what it is
By my own choice
Silence
song performed by by Tiffany

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sleeping together
Sleeping together, yet being alone
This soliloquy has nothing to do with sex
It’s more ramblings, about cuddling, and just lying unconscious
And about intimacy, about sharing morning breath.
It’s about spooning, hugging, sharing the covers
And most of us have these nighttime pleasures to own
While many others, and I’m sure there are many
Are sleeping together, yet being alone.
Sleeping together is a thing based in the primeval
In the litter, in the nest, in the pack
The piling upon, over and under and among
One’s brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers
All sleeping together, never alone or lonely.
At any time 'lonely' can start and grow like a cancer
So nestle up, cling tightly, so you’ll never be
Sleeping together, yet being alone
poem by David Whalen

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Carry Me (a River)
carry me (a river)
carry me a river
take i there, by the river
let the cool breeze wash away the pain
from within me not in vain
carry me a river
where the sweet melodies of the birds reign
the birds in a singing mood so plain
wipe off my mind from the railing train
and carry me over yonder to clear my brain
as you carry me a river
carry me a river
by the river side
the pebbles and the bubbles
clear as water by the stream
as you carry me a river
told me the best poor surrogate of wisdom is pride
but intelligence and self trust will avoid troubles
not even in your dream
carry me a river
in touch with i roots
in my gideon boots
and some khaki suites
carry me a river
to dream a better me
and look back to see
the horizon by sundown
lost but not a clown
with my thinking crown
i stood up to go back-a town
next time
carry me a river on time
though you carry me there for some time
but next time
carry me a river on time
® ntema, o.p.
[email protected]
©25.08.2011
2133h rs
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema

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One sad voice has its nest among the ruins of the years. It sings to me in the night,--"I loved you."
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Lullaby, Oh, Lullaby!
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Flowers are closed and lambs are sleeping;
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Stars are up, the moon is peeping;
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
While the birds are silence keeping,
(Lullaby, oh, lullaby!)
Sleep, my baby, fall a-sleeping,
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti

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0068 The Connoisseur (2)
Is there a god
sleeping in this room?
even the doorhandle, gently turned,
seems to speak a message
before the room entered, the first breath taken
of the room’s own air
and on the table, the grey-green vase seems
to be the host; the silent messenger: the furniture
somehow eternal in its order; every line and curve
within the room speaking of some
divine geometry; the shaded sunlight seems
to fall on tiptoe, touch in silent praise;
the air, to be refined; and the silence –
what does the silence say unspoken
as if it holds some god-smiled word,
some solemn laughter, about what
is there and is not there, has made
of this room, this ordinary room,
a shrine where one can worship without form
oneself?
the vase too holds itself both
open and reserved; its perfect curves
the subtle decisions of a history
of centuries, of generations
of human hands; of things made
for oneself, for others, for all else
where all else is known;
silent the vase; the room full of its sound.
Is there a god
sleeping in this room?
you; moving forward with respectful quiet step
to touch this grey-green
Chinese vase
poem by Michael Shepherd

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Carry On
Carry on ...
So what can I do, what can I say
Do I have to stand and
Watch you walk away
I know theres got to be
A better way
I just cant go on living for today
I thought I heard a voice
Out on the wind
And Im sure I heard it say
Id find a friend
And it said Id find
The answers in the end
All I gotta do is carry on
Carry on, carry on, the time is flyin
You need another love
Maybe another town
Carry on, carry on
Dont wait until your hope is gone
When your last chance
Comes round
Im gonna keep on looking
I wont quit
Aggravation
It aint gonna hurt a bit
And I believe that
I have seen the last of it
Theres nothing left to do
But carry on
song performed by by Uriah Heep

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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First Flight
Brand new baby birds in a nest
don't you fall to the ground.
For there are too many predators waiting
and quietly lurking around.
Don't leave your nest 'til you can fly.
Be patient and bide your time.
Then when you feel your wings are strong
then out of your nest you'll climb.
Now see what you were born for.
Flap your wings and soar into the air.
The sky's the limit for such as you.
As for me I can only stare.
poem by Edwina Reizer

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Aubade And I Am Not Like Other Birds Of Prey
Morning at last!
Every night is a fight till you're waking
Dreams dancing past
Through the silence of sleep
Dawn is breaking
I wake and watch them till then
And I am not like other birds of prey
And I am not like other birds of prey
Oh, night is long, you won't needing me
For a dressed up time I am there to see
That fear holds no sway
Soft is my plan
And my eyes kill the lies that felt happy
Life is my right
And in sleep's little bed
I'll protect you
So, hear, let my presence dismay
That I am not like other birds of prey
That I am not like other birds of prey
When hopes are young and your cares are few
Then I'm sure above keeping truth in you
And my name is love
Submitted by Michael Hack
song performed by by Supertramp

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Never Again Would Bird's Song Be the Same
He would declare and could himself believe
That the birds there in all the garden round
From having heard the daylong voice of Eve
Had added to their own an oversound,
Her tone of meaning but without the words.
Admittedly an eloquence so soft
Could only have had an influence on birds
When call or laughter carried it aloft.
Be that as may be, she was in their song.
Moreover her voice upon their voices crossed
Had now persisted in the woods so long
That probably it never would be lost.
Never again would birds' song be the same.
And to do that to birds was why she came.
poem by Robert Frost

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Sleeping at last
Sleeping at last, the trouble and tumult over,
Sleeping at last, the struggle and horror past,
Cold and white, out of sight of friend and of lover,
Sleeping at last.
No more a tired heart downcast or overcast,
No more pangs that wring or shifting fears that hover,
Sleeping at last in a dreamless sleep locked fast.
Fast asleep. Singing birds in their leafy cover
Cannot wake her, nor shake her the gusty blast.
Under the purple thyme and the purple clover
Sleeping at last.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti

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We Didnt Dare
the soul dies in the body's tears,
even as the straw nest fallen to the ground,
weeps with empty fullness.
my heart does not speak to me,
we walk in silence...
veterans of wars you cant imagine,
returning to homeless streets.
and the bodies of touch and wanting,
are strewn with a beautiful horror.
yet the guilt is named to be forgotten,
as memory turns to vanity.
the sins we wear on the outside,
are nothing to the sins we carry within.
and the weight i carry will be much,
as much as the gift i've felt.
for in the end it is the candle we lit,
and all the ones we didnt dare.
so forgive me for my failures...
and love me for the same!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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