The Proud Peacock
I am the Peacock,
the beautiful bride
of the bird kingdom.
I am in no doubt
fairer than the cock
for I dwarf its pride
with feathers that stand-out.
I am the Peacock
who desires serfdom
from the bird kingdom,
for I long to usurp
the title of king
from the strong Eagle
who soars atop
with its air-borne wings.
Though fit as fiddle
with an awesome strength,
gliding the sky’s length
at a blistering pace,
yet dreaded for a face
that is void of grace.
I am the Peacock,
the elegantly clad.
Humans would be mad
to contend with me,
for shame you would see
if unclad they be.
poem by Joseph C Ogbonna (19 January 2015)
Submitted by Joseph C Ogbonna
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Related quotes
A Peacock
a peacock meets a peahen
on a grassy garden
'what the hell' says the peahen
to the peacock
the peacock asks
'why the hell? '
and the peahen
snobs the peacock
and says
'yours is just a peasize! '
and the peahen leaves
the peacock for good
and they know
they cannot live
happily ever after
for sure
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Peacock
A pleasant stroll,
The peacock takes
On its way back,
Each evening.
The sun has set;
The moon has come;
The air is cool;
’Tis twilight time!
The peacock walks
Effortlessly,
Amongst house-sites,
On lanes of own.
All through the way,
It feeds on leaves
That sprouted new,
A few days’ old!
A feast to eyes
Of young and old,
The peacock runs
On seeing men.
A hardy bird
With colored plumes
That gives its stroll,
A majesty.
Across the fence,
Over the bush,
It gently flies,
If need should rise.
It makes no noise,
On way back home;
It has walked miles
Unknowingly!
No snake dare near
The alert bird
That wards off foes
By flying low.
And when it’s dawn,
The dancing starts
On terraces,
As pea-hens watch!
The national bird
Of India,
Is protected:
‘So, please don’t kill! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-6-2010
poem by John Celes
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An old Peacock meets a Crow in a Cuckoo's wedding
'Hello! Brother we met after a long time.
Isn't it? ' Peacock greeted.
Then the crow said; 'Certainly, do you remember when we met last time at one eyed scavenger's funeral.'
'Oh! You have a good memory,
He drowned in the Mayor's sewage line if I am not mistaken.
What's going on in your proud city limits? ' Peacock gossiped.
'As usual, We get a scanty meal in the garbage bins on their pay days only.' Crow replied.
Cuckoo introduced his bride to old Peacock.
Then crow interrupted; 'She is my niece.'
Peacocks, Crows and Cuckoos sing the national anthem when the chief guest Mr.Anopheles.Mosquito Minister of Health who arrives with his
bodyguards.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The tulip is, among flowers, what the peacock is among birds. A tulip lacks scent, a peacock has an unpleasant voice. The one takes pride in its garb, the other in its tail.
In man’s eyes
He moves as proud as a peacock
And is viewed as stupid as a turkey.
She looks as proud as a peacock
And is viewed as royal as a mare.
Woman’s pride sells well in man's eyes.
02.11.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Fair Peacock
Flamboyantly clad,
Feathers arranged in an astonishing
array of colours,
distinctively seen,
brightest of all,
and uniquely adorned for
a century's wedlock in
a bird's haven.
That is I, the Peacock.
The angel with elegance that you
crave for.
An epitome of standards coveted by
models fair.
Endowed by nature with neither
mascara nor lipstick.
But having features elusive that
pageants in a lifetime ache for.
poem by Joseph C Ogbonna (19 March 2018)
Submitted by Joseph C Ogbonna
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Gliding Bird
(Tom Slocum)
Gliding bird gliding through the sky
I'm wondering why I can't be why I can't be as free
Gliding bird gliding all day long
Sing your secret song away from all these faces that I see
Is where I want to be
My feet are so tired
They walked too many miles
If I run so wild like heaven's child
I'll learn to fly someday
Gliding bird riding in the sun
Rainbow colors run
I hear the wind
I hear its mournful call
Gliding bird high above the sea
Is it longing to be free
Your voice is silent
But your wings tell all
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Purple World
If all of a peacock was purple
It would be a star—
No cerulean or evergreen—
No place for
Mermaids to admire it—
Purple fanning underneath the sun,
Showing all of the tourists—
All of the housewives that he is
A man—maybe if they could love
Through an everyday metamorphosis,
They would wish upon him—
To feed him popcorn
And to make love to him—
The usual hijinks between the orchards
And the highways—in the singing
Prisons where they they—
But it is not possible for them to think of
Him as anything else than a peacock,
Even if all of purpled fanned—
Though he is more beautiful than them—
And at night,
After the busses leave the animals naked
Underneath the heartthrob heavens,
He will count dreams to himself in
His purple world—
Think of all of the women he could have
Married—
If he were not only a peacock, a star in
The purple world.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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A New Flair
and so the peacock having
survived from a
broken wing
(sigh! it could have
been a broken heart)
now rises up
from the bushes
struts head high on the
park
under the trees
and fans herself with her
multicolored tail
i could not help
(identifying
myself with her)
and i said directly from
spontaneous
instinct,
' I like this
beautiful bird'
how i wish somehow that like
an eagle
it can also learn the art of flying
and trick the
air
with its new
flair.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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O' Peacock
Just one glimpse in full plumage
Caged me in stunning amaze
Wink of an eye missed ye
Swiftly fluttered ye
Searching for ye o' peacock
Blue-green iridescence lengthily tailed
Decor of red and gold
Winged large your train fully ornamental ocelli
Filling feast for my eye
Searching still o' peacock
Pretty bird, distinctive crest
Tufted majestic, ye foretelling the rain
And your dancing train
Seated sight merrily deep in my heart
Surpassing dreams past
O' bird turquoise, fear of ye poached
Fear of hitherto pesticidal food? Charisma unfeathered
O'Paravani, Skandha your lord
Come back with Him blessed
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Stone and Peacock
Lend me a stone
I'll lend you a peacock
What you see in the picture, In reality you'll not
When our reality be in those pictures? ?
Look into the face of the sun
Seven colors seems flying, like a peacock
I once asked the sun
Seven horses drawn, Chariot of your, where to heading? ?
'Into the battle', replied the sun
In the battle, don't grief of what you lost
Look deep into the faceof the sun
Those stones were shaping swords sharp and shiny
Sun did borrowed it from my great grand father
Today I'm out into the battle ground
Its time now, I need that sword back
Look very deep into the face of the sun
Those stones were shaping my Great Grandfather's swords sharp and shiny
You lend me that stone
And
I'll lend you a seven colored peacock………
poem by D'menz Veen
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I Wish I Had Been Born A Bird...[Personal; Birds; Humor]
My parents were both humans, so I am human too,
but I'd wish to be a bird, if I could be born anew.
Though I 'love' birds, you may think my wish absurd.
But more absurd wishes I'm sure you have heard.
Of course I'm not a bird and never will be.
But if I could talk to birds I could better see
if the life of a bird would really satisfy me.
Eating seeds and bugs and such, and sitting in a tree.
My bird of choice? How would I pick a winner?
Not a penguin, who has to dress for dinner.
Not an ostrich, another flightless bird.
And a strutting peacock might just be absurd.
Perhaps an eagle, soaring high above you,
or a hummingbird, acrobat of the blue.
Or perhaps a mighty swan swimming gracefully,
or a nightingale whistling a concert, free.
For certain I would not choose a caged-life,
though, uncaged, dangers for me might be rife.
I think I'd prefer fresh-kill to old road kill,
and a nest in tree rather than on window sill.
If a bird, I'd not have had to deal with military draft.
Or had others think sometimes that I am daft.
All sorts of human signs and laws I could spurn.
And there'd be no reason to file a tax return.
I'd have no need to wear or ever change diapers,
no need to get gas or change windshield wipers,
no need for lawyers or too many teachers,
no need to listen to rehashing preachers,
no need to plan for death or watch my cholesterol.
As a bird I'd just have to listen to Mother Nature's call.
(September 2009)
poem by Bri Edwards
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Advice To The Kings And Administrators
The axle of the cart, loaded
with light-weighted peacock feathers
too, may break if the cart is overloaded.
ThirukkuRaL 475
This is the advice
given to the Kings and administrators
to know their strength,
their opponents' strength
and act accordingly.
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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Bird Or Beast?
Did any bird come flying
After Adam and Eve,
When the door was shut against them
And they sat down to grieve?
I think not Eve's peacock
Splendid to see,
And I think not Adam's eagle;
But a dove may be.
Did any beast come pushing
Through the thorny hedge
Into the thorny thistly world,
Out from Eden's edge?
I think not a lion,
Though his strength is such;
But an innocent loving lamb
May have done as much.
If the dove preached from her bough
and the lamb from his sod,
The lamb and dove
Were preachers sent from God.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Neatness In Apparel
In your garb and outward clothing
A reservëd plainness use;
By their neatness more distinguished
Than the brightness of their hues.
All the colours in the rainbow
Serve to spread the peacock's train;
Half the lustre of his feathers
Would turn twenty coxcombs vain.
Yet the swan that swims in rivers,
Pleases the judicious sight;
Who, of brighter colours heedless,
Trusts alone to simple white.
Yet all other hues, comparëd
With his whiteness, show amiss;
And the peacock's coat of colours
Like a fool's coat looks by his.
poem by Charles Lamb
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peacock walks proudly
national bird of India
which poachers kill sadly
quote by by John Celes
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A Dignity
as the peacock
struts its fan of feathers
like a rainbow
in the barnyard
the hen keeps its
own home
protecting its chicks
around its feathers
from the invasion of
the rat
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Peacock.
Once Juno's Bird (as Authors say)
Was seiz'd on by some Birds of Prey:
They pluck'd his Feathers, one by one,
Till all his useful Plumes were gone;
Stript him of ev'ry thing beside;
But left his Train, to please his Pride.
Some other Birds admir'd to see,
He tamely bore such Injury;
And often on his Patience jok'd--
He cry'd--They must not be provok'd:
I'm in their Pow'r, nor shall debate,
But yield to my unhappy Fate.
Yet in this Plight would he resort,
To where the Eagle kept his Court:
For, tho' oppress'd, he still was proud
To make his Bows among the Croud.
The Eagle, gracious, saw him there;
Which envious Courtiers could not bear,
Well knowing, should he tread that Soil,
He would in time put in for Spoil.
As Tameness Injuries provokes,
In Birds, as well as mortal Folks;
The Peacock they assault again,
And strip him of his glitt'ring Train.
Enrag'd at this, he stamp'd and tore,
And quoted Precedents a Score,
That Peacocks ever were allow'd
To shew their Beauty to the Croud.
At this the haughty Courtiers sneer,
And cry, What Bus'ness have you here?
He had a Right, they plainly saw;
But let him know, That Pow'r is Law.
At length a Pheasant standing by,
Beheld him with a pitying Eye:
And said, You now begin too late
To stem the Torrent of your Fate:
Yet are you not of all bereft;
For still a fair Retreat is left:
Why will you here neglected roam,
When you might be rever'd at home?
poem by Mary Barber
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A peacock who rests on its feathers is just another turkey.
quote by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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