Poe laid flowers on her grave
His lost Lenore
One he’d love forevermore
But doomed to see her nevermore
Storm clouds expelled true daylight
Yet near her grave on a dead oak tree
An ebony raven stared and seemed to agree
“Nevermore,” the bird mocked, flying off with ironic glee
Clouds burst, pelting the cemetery with rain
Back to his horse and carriage Poe ran
Was Poe a pawn in this raven’s game plan
An unhealthy racing of his heart began
Arriving home, Poe sought to forget
But there was the red-eyed, sinister bird
Perched on the pallid bust of Pallas, it said just one word
“Nevermore,” was all Poe heard
Stealthily the bird had entered through an open window
“Did God summon you to add to my grief?”
Poe pleaded, “Will I ever find relief?”
“Nevermore,” cried the demon, to Poe’s disbelief
Poe tried to rid his home of the tormenting invader
“Fly away; take your word with you!”
But the evil visitor would not bid adieu
Its single word was malicious; Poe could not misconstrue
When rainfall ended, the raven flew to the windowsill
“Be gone!” Poe screamed, his voice filled with hate
It eyed him once more, leaving Poe in a crazed state
But loving memories of Lenore it could not desecrate
*Written October 1, 2014
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2014
While you sleep I tell you all of the things I keep inside throughout day.
Now that you can hear but not listen I find them much easier to say.
My hopes, my dreams, my fears, and everything in between
Your subconscious hears so keen, or so it seems.
My tongue is soft; I speak so sweetly
Knowing your reaction will never greet me.
Tonight will be different in what I want you to know.
It has everything to do with what I can’t help but show.
I hold no claim to any religion but you’ve given me a place for my faith.
Somewhere it will never stale or lose its lavish taste.
You’ve shown me something I can see, touch, and feel,
And so before it I choose to kneel.
I know I don’t say it but I miss you every day.
Sitting, thinking of the perfect words to be my choice,
Yet when you call I can’t find any of the right words to say.
I’m just happy to finally hear your voice.
Even just a moment is enough to sooth my heavy heart;
Fearing the ends of conversations knowing we’ll have to part.
I’ll never be too far from you, always within arm’s reach,
And in your days of darkness I’ll be the light that you will seek.
I’ll never let you leave too far from me, I’ll stay close behind you in this world;
Secretly protecting what is mine, you will always be my girl.
I only want the best for you so the best of me I will employ.
Faithfully yours, I will always be your boy.
I close my eyes and kiss your soft sweet lips
And see the very best of you in loving bliss.
I see past the physical which makes you attractive
And focus on the things I can’t see in which I’m attracted.
Your thoughts I’d love to hear them all.
Of the things you speak disinterest never makes its call.
My day will come, I know someday I’ll be the only one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give, to love unconditionally.
Yes our day will come, I know someday we’ll be as one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give… to love unconditionally.
Copyright © Kristopher Higgs | Year Posted 2012
Sitting on a wire
Why is your back turned towards me?
Do you wish to hide the intelligence of your eyes,
or do you wish to create some mystery?
I have seen you
Here at this old dump
Picking through the unwanted wanted things
I wish I could search along with you
Check out what the Jones's have no more use for
The bits of unfixed
The not new enough
Their "I think we deserve the very best"
"This ain't good enough, let's buy more and more stuff!"
At one time
I wore their discarded clothes
Wore them without pride
I should have been proud
For I dug for them with wanting hands
Hands that waded through decadence
I watched you and your brothers
As you feasted on our last suppers
Ripping open black bags
Fighting for morsels
Unconcerned with the rotting
Intoxicated by fermenting fruit
Bones that needed to be picked clean
Me noticing but not recalling until now
I was hoping
Praying for a bicycle
Desperately wanting to ride far away from here
Escape my then
My, I hope no one sees me!
"Where did you get that coat?"
"We threw that in the dump!"
Boy oh boy do I like clothes now.
No one makes fun of what I wear!
Part of me wishes to return with you Black Bird
To see what I left behind
Recycle that little boy
But I can't
The dumps aren't open anymore
It is like those old bones
Items placed in appropriate piles
All the while
You sit on your wire
Back turned to me
Intelligent eyes hidden
Knowing I can't disturb you
In a while you will feed on yesterday
For this place
Is not closed to you!
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015
Scared by the sound of his own voice
Following the girl home from school
In his mind this is normal
He grabs her jacket
Pulling her backwards unto the ground
Placing a cloth around her nose and mouth
Gagging her until she sleeps for a while
He drags her through the woods
Branches hitting her every which way he turns
Dragging her along until he reaches the cabin
Picking her up over his shoulders opening the door to the cellar
Locking the door behind him he walks down the stairs slowly
He places her on a chair and ties her wrist to the handles
Tying her feet to the legs of the chair
Tightening the rope around her neck to the back of the chair
He undresses her waiting for her to wake up
Several hours pass
She wakes up
Sweating and screaming
Crying and yelling at him
He places duct tape around her mouth
Placing a knife against her stomach
She groans and yelps
He takes the knife away and looks at her
Grabbing her face and telling her shes beautiful
He turns around and stands with his back towards her
As he starts to say
But its the beautiful people that need fixing
He takes the tape off her face and holds her chin tightly
He carves a smile on her face
Cutting her mouth from ear to ear
Smile dear it makes you adorable
He grins and sits the knife down
Laughing as she bleeds
She tries to move her mouth
It just drops open
He looks at her smiling
Now that makes you truly beautiful
He leaves her there for a while
Placing a needle with a string attached to it
Sticking it into the skin around her mouth that is hanging open
He stitches her back together
Cant make up his mind
He slaps her and leaves her there for another few days
She sits with her eyes peeled wide open
A tear falling as she tries wiggling her hand free from the rope
As she frees her hand she runs her fingers over her stitches
Only to find out her whole mouth has been stitched together
She cant speak
She can only mumble
She frees the rest of her limbs
Trying to stand up and walk but she's to weak and falls
He runs down the stairs
Yelling at her to get up
She doesn't move
He kicks her in the stomach
She doesn't budge
He picks her up and uses her as a puppet
For his own needs
He then buries her beside his other victims
Only to find out shes still alive
Her hand slips through the dirty old mud
Copyright © Orlin Collier | Year Posted 2013
Crown of Sonnets
I am lost
I can feel no presence
I know of no human or animal that has a measure of significance alike mine
I have a teacher
A teller of all there is to be known of the world
She has bestowed upon me the gifts of a magi
I have sailed deep oceans with noblemen and written great works with worldly scholars
All of this I owe to her, my "teacher"
But through all her wisdom I have heard or seen of no such creature
The one of whose value is as mine
I looked upon the oracle and many great libraries with scriptures overflowing
I still have read or seen of no such monster
I've heard witches speak ancient incantations
and I have sung songs with the sirens
Out of the monsters and spirits that came none of which had a significance as is mine
Upon my dreariness and woeful thought came the final place
A painting of life and death
A tale of heaven and hell at war
The purity of truth blackened by man
I saw upon them a thing of which is mine
Not upon the dead who will be missed
Nor the skeletons carrying away the dead, the ones with purpose
Not even of the severed limbs and broken bones discarded at random in the field of chaos and confusion
No, I saw my equal upon the shadows
A black being darker than silence
A causer of mischief and misfortune
A wielder of pain and sorrow
My equal is hated by all for all he has done
My equal is upon the wicked and the damned sadly he is to dumb to care
My equal of such tresspasses is a demon
My equal is a man who dressed in black kills and dies and is born again through his ashes of filth
He sees his crimes
It is because of this he wept upon his hands
The hands stained my children's blood and scared by the scratches of the innocent
But I was wrong
I am not equal to a demon, for these are not the acts of a demon but of man
That is my equal
My equal is man
My sins are everlasting
My transgressions are in stone
Man is the cause for the failure of men
Man is the cause for the failure of many!
Posted by Haley Melton at 3:37 AM
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Copyright © Haley Melton | Year Posted 2014
Shadows Resting On Stones
I follow the birds of night seeking a roost,
place to rest my old, weary head on high.
Looking down below for my heart's big boost,
as the lonely eerie darkness drifts on by!
I follow red racing lines of my future fate,
on paths strewn with big jagged boulders.
Seeking deeper knowledge of life not too late,
fill this head resting upon my shoulders!
I follow a ghost of her soft,sweetest caress,
thin mystical veil of gently mercy sent.
Behind the wail of all that I dare confess,
sins, pains and past life so ill spent!
I follow the shadow of a fleeing old man.
From the boiling pot into the frying pan!
Robert J. Lindley, 07-08-2015
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015
Life, it is so beautiful
When we grow up, we love it all
As old age comes most people wait
For their lives to dissipate
In mourning for their younger days
That now seems very far away
It’s best to grow up, not grow old
Each new day is then pure gold
Doesn’t matter how old you be
Life is filled with mystery
The birds still sing, the flowers grow
Be like a river, let life flow
Watch the trees dance with the breeze
Hear the song birds from those trees
Let your old heart open wide
Life is always deified
I know someday I’ll surely die
I don’t know how, or even why
I just don’t know where I will go
I’m not a guy who says he knows
But birth and death they both conjoin
Like heads and tails on any coin
So I’ll dance out to my demise
Cause when I’m gone, I’ll still be life
24 April 2016
Copyright © peter duggan | Year Posted 2016
My knees were the things that
kept me up and my skin is my
cutting board my eyes are the
rain clouds to the fire running
down my arms and my heart is
the fire place that keeps me
burning so calm
Copyright © brittney lopez | Year Posted 2013
Trapped like a bird in this filthy cage
Where I am starved of compassion and understanding
Left to survive on meager crumbs
Of affection and tolerance
Held captive and unable to fly and be free
From the physical and emotional restrictions
Placed upon me by my keeper
Who’s only reason for my presence it seems
Is to stay its loneliness and insecurity
To feed its selfish need for control
Through its twisted concept
Of love and adoration
I am looked upon as a possession
Other than the living, breathing individual
That I long to be
So now I sit upon my proverbial perch
In my so called gilded cage
In the confines of my seemingly mundane existence
And walk though my mind confused and alone
Aimlessly wandering through the now empty spaces
That no longer hold the dreams or aspirations
Which I once thought gave my life purpose
Memories which were bright and alive
Full of promise and hope but have faded away
Into a past that is now grey and bleak
Devoid of anything worth remembering
My footfalls echo in the silence
Giving testament that these memories
Have been empty and forgotten long ago
My only hopes now are that my keeper
Will grow tired of my deliberate silence
And obvious disdain and release me
Whether through life or by death
At this point either would be welcome
How I long for the freedom
And comfort of the clear blue sky
The ability to soar like a bird
High above the reaches
Of those who only want to keep me
And fly towards the bright and colorful horizon
Where I know my future waits
And new memories and dreams can be made.
Copyright © Thomas King | Year Posted 2014
Burning down all around EVERY LIVING SOUL.
UP IN SMOKE, You choked? That MIRROR YOU KNOW
YOU BROKE? The flames you stoked. UP IN SMOKE.
Not a living soul has an ABODE to call their own. No
HUT NOR HOME. Be stronger than strong sang the playing
Song. Now WHO STIRRED THE VERB? EVERY LIVING
SOUL HEARD THE WORD. "WELL, on the brink of the brim
Of a empty bottle of rum" grunted the sober bum.
HOMELESSNESS ABOUNDS. BURNING DOWN ALL AROUND.
THE FIRES RAGED WITH MORE BLAZE. Then hear the
FURIOUS FLAMES FLICKER AND FIGHT FOR FUEL.
EVERY LIVING SOUL CRIED WITNESSING THEIR FUTURE
Up in smoke, cursed the soaring bird. Quenching, down CAME
The crushing DELUGE FROM HOSES, SEEMING to be every
Where in mediocre DOSES.
"THE END OF LIFE AS WE KNOW IT " said my fine feathered
Friend first to fly.
The end of life as we know it, repeated I, and I AM ON HIGH.
THAT'S THE WORD. AMEN, AMEN AND AGAIN AMEN.
Copyright © VAL BROOKLYN Rogers BLK PANTHER | Year Posted 2015
Winter grates as the blackbird roams
through frosted limbs of trees... and shrills;
while moon hides from a brooding night
its call, the threadbare air, refills.
My eyes mirror this drowning hymn
while breaths cry out to agonize.
Deep within a starless backdrop
iced feathers cause anguish to rise.
And ebon wings defrock my mind
embedding stains on bleak frontier;
keeper of omen dares to haunt
as love’s requiem awaits here.
Though wrapping the light from its crawl,
snowflakes drop on my pallid face
till raven foul the morning breaks ;
in dawn’s arms I lose fate’s embrace.
Kelly Deschler's The Raven
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014
There is a bird
inside your heart
that's singing to the moon
of lives around you
friends around you
and all you cherish
Just listen to the bird
when it does not whistle
but sings a melody
sad songs in your ears
Copyright © Voahanitriniaina Rabary-Andriamanday | Year Posted 2013
Reflections of imperfections
have shown me a way
that I can move mountains
through my power of faith
even though I can't see him
I know he is real
through the power of prayer
and a Love that I feel
It's growing inside me
like a flower in bloom
shall I reveal my powers
or is it too soon
I am reading the signs
through my darkness I find
a reason for belief in
the light of mankind
that I know shall overcome
the greatest of odds
the Love I seek amazes me
especially through the flaws
because now I am inspired
through the hero's that bring
my throne through the darkness
on which I return on as your King.
Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013
Basking in moonlight,
Old birds remember the nest.
Ruffles my feathers.
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014
Arise, you song birds sing in morning dew;
The flow’ry host to colour fields and furrows,
And sap of Spring runs gold in willows veins;
As tender leaves unfold to speak of birth,
Fresh mountain ranges iced give life anew—
While waters melt and stream through cricks and borrows
The gleams of light will melt the winter strains
Though spills of oil have quenched the songs of earth.
The corporate sting of greedful revenue,
Has bankrupt natural wonders—greedy farrows
The eagle has no pow’r to save her eggs,
Tall forests fall and crush the robin’s hue
When flow’ry petals change to black on yellow—
The spotted fawns arise with warbled legs
Copyright © J.R. Dawson | Year Posted 2013
"'Cause when your back's against the wall
That's when you show no fear at all
And when you're running out of time
That's when you hitch your star to mine
We won't be leaving by the same road that we came by"
~Keane - My Shadow Lyrics ~
There is no celestial place for you to guide my thoughts
Can you not see that I am free from you?
I am a black bird perched high in the treetops
You will hear my crowing and you may hate it
But my dear, you cannot take away my voice!
Yet still, as fire oppresses forests of life,
You can abuse my freedom to find your glory
You may discard these words for your love of gods,
And in so doing you may simply ignore
All the cries that I so passionately utter
But my infectious species will guide your mind straight back
To that once so lonely treetop where you merely glanced
And there will be multitudinous, oppressing thoughts
That shall enslave you and bind you unwillingly
The crows will only grow louder when you turn away—
When you pretend to ignore with your remaining, strangling pride
For my voice is a production sent from above
Dispatched to judge you pitilessly for your swelling lies!
And the choirs of ferocious beaks shall open forever
Harmony and dissonance as one
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013
On an open road through the driving rain
She drove fast and deadly like a hurricane
Sad yellow stripes in between white lines
Covered cold dead flowers and some valentines
Her baby grows and her mother cries
A painful evelution right before their eyes
She left him bleeding as the future glowed
From a dying past down the open road
She fights the lions as she curse it all
The men the drugs and the alcohol
The radio dj makes it all look good
With songs about love and of motherhood
She saw her future going down the drain
Her baby's tears feeds her growing pain
A blade in the night and the bad blood flowed
Down in the gutter on the open road
A big black bird at the top of the shelves
Judging what they all did to themselves
With fingernails growing like a raven's claw
She will never see what the big bird saw
Like the drugs of the dying like a martyr's faith
There was light in the dark but no open gate
She hunted the keys to the secret code
As she watched him fade on the open road
Copyright © Steinar Gismeroy Olafsen | Year Posted 2014
I once veered from the road less traveled
And gazed upon the minion sheep
Watching as they followed
Their mindless paths
My soul begin to weep
For the endless torture they had unraveled
Led by dictation
Fed on tribulation
Never once seeing
An open mind equals an open heart
I want to shout
I want to scream and shake them
As if waking them from a dream
And tell them to realize
The world around them is a lie
Not what they are programmed to see
But in this free will way of life
Nothing is as it seems
Copyright © Darla McGinnis | Year Posted 2014
From seas of green, to darkened woe
The winds do blow the grief
In Maelstrom's tide, to havens low
We waken death from sleep
Harkened to the evening star
The evil calls the foe
Into the tide of the Maelstrom
Into the deep below
Dark haven, cruel Raven
Where shall you then depart?
The whole ship has sunken
Into the whirlpool's heart
The moon will shine from up above
Till darkness ends the light
The moaning mist of deadened love
The sad, lost wings of flight
Demon waters drown the glee
Of all remaining hope
The gift to hear, the gift to see
Left us long ago
Dark haven, cruel Raven
Where shall you then depart?
The whole ship has sunken
Into the whirlpool's heart
Dark haven, cruel Raven!
Where shall you fall tonight?
The whole world is shaken
In Maelstrom's sick delight
-experimenting on this verse;
trying to make a four part
acapella...wish me luck!!
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013
I sit -looking at the river gracefully bending
Flowing smoothly over moss covered rocks and stones
Measuring in endless time -my life
My loves, my losses
Posing my thoughts with unspoken words
Just me and the river...
Sitting all alone
I cry- my whetted, salty tears
Like the river weeping her warm liquid waves
Showering the earth with her promising shades of life
Breathing her liquid grace over all the lands she saves?
I could not save us
My hungry heart hides my tears as I breathe in your image
Calling your name -whispering our story
And all the tender moments
Of our once remembered glory
With my thoughts softly weaving their dreams
I trace the memories of the sweetest fruit from the vine
Painting vivid pictures of warm candlelight and roses
That turned into a sad, bitter tasting wine
My grieving spirit hides the breeze that softly blows
Whispering in its low, hushed voice
My sad, lonely story…
That only I and the river know
Hiding my shattered heart
With a broken wing
Copyright © anne p. murray | Year Posted 2012
The mockingbird sings,
Confusing all nearby birds.
He keeps me awake;
Won’t step on the brake.
So glad he cannot speak words.
For what I utter
Might cause a flutter
Among other choristers.
“Please choose one,” I smile,
“And do not compile
The sweet tunes of your sisters”
*Written July 27, 2014 for Dr. Ram's "Alouetee" contest
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2014
Beating wings of gold,
To his breast they fold.
From the heights now descending,
Soaring on winds fair.
Joys of life declare
The skylark's songs unending.
In the meadow sweet,
Comes their call to greet
The new morning wet with dew.
Swaying on a reed,
Seeing my deep need
With my dreams away he flew....
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2014
Swinging in the pavane of love
Doves doze where ravens nest
And bells toll for sick and poor
For drifters and muggers
Jokers and jugglers
And ones who spot a dirty floor
They fly away eventually
Rejoice by chance they may
Maybe they’ll remember
When wings tomorrow fray
Oh, the bells sing for all that is
And all that isn't too
Oh, eternal bells ring for me
Chime through cracks in truth
Oh, when bells toll I never hide
From battery buzz above
Oh, bells ring for me and you
The raven and the dove
Copyright © Nicholas Rush | Year Posted 2015
It burns and it stings.
More than drowning beneath
More than remaining in a
She hits and I no longer cry.
Why mother, why?
It burned and it stung.
The markings remained,
returned, and were relived
Looking, loving, and little
known loathing were the known
ways of living.
Never was their pity for the
child that cried
Never was their relief for the
child that tried
You were that lovely bird that
understood the complications of
Nothing looked the same in
those dewy browns of yours.
My everbeating would cry tears
The others-they were yet to
Caring Mother, o' so fair
You were that beautiful bird
filled with care.
The others came and were not
alone. Their two suitors sat on
Rampage and rage why did you
I began to wither and wither
slumping along. So very soon I-
the child of fines- became a
The droops of the Lily of the
Valley became the slumping of
My lovely bird the enemy had
taken you and the person you
were is far from near.
For that divine nature left its
intricate self and you became
irretrievable my big bird.
All of your fairness died.
With that went my pride.
Mother, Mother what moved
Your intense spirt vanished only
to supplement a monster.
Mother, Monster and your tar
How did I kill that liver that was
so, so strong?
The lesson of pain was one you
came to learn.
My darling bird why did you
My lovely bird and your big
I'll tell you once, but never
Pain is only a flower for it
blooms and dies
And a mistake can be killed as
quickly as lice.
You dear bird hurt me well.
Though, haven't you heard?
Weakness is a souls greatest
You brought me up, then you
brought me down.
You haved helped, hurt, and
hindered my blazing spirit.
A hero in my heart-I left you
down in your deep black
Escaping those terrible nights
To go for the town of delights.
Copyright © Layla Elkoulily | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
The bird wanted to fly
But the wind wanted to blow
“Rest now bird”, said the wind
“You now take it down slow,
And let me flow.”
The bird accepted thinking it was a request,
And ignored the proud in his words,
She sat down on the branch to rest,
Keeping down her guards,
Unaware of what is next.
An hour passed,
But still the wind didn’t stop,
Now the pace became fast,
Now the wind gone, in place was the storm.
Unable to stand against it,
The bird felt helpless.
The emergence of automatic persuasion,
Left the bird in stress.
Her home is not the ground,
She lives in the sky,
Feeling gloomy and bound,
She doesn’t even try to fly.
She stays where she was,
And starts envying the wind,
The kind of power he has,
That brought down even the born free.
Flying is what she loves,
And the feeling of spreading the wings,
Something that cannot be expressed in words,
The beauty can only be felt within,
But when the storm persists on blowing,
The persuasion reminded the bird of a cage.
The feeling of being trapped,
Even turned down the sage,
Within the bird and now a panic engulfed,
Because everything was happening against her will,
And the storm and his manic laugh,
Harassing and shrill,
Dominating over the world with his power.
Now there is water added,
Pouring everywhere from the sky,
So hard that the vision blurry and fade,
The bird now wants to hide.
And so she trusts the woods,
Under the leaves she takes shelter,
Hoping the safe place could,
Understand and help the helpless her.
But today even the trees are of no help,
The rain is too heavy,
No matter where she hides,
Towards her somehow it will glide.
A day passed but still the storm wasn’t satisfied,
He kept on blowing,
Kept dominating the little with pride,
But the bird was now over sorrowing,
So, she decided to challenge the flowing.
And it seemed like years had passed,
Since the bird took a flight,
Into the blue and those effects that lasted,
Of serenity, luxury and rights.
Now the tolerance was coming to an end,
Her loud chirping of frustration speaks,
And so she comes out of the safe place and,
Into the grey she leaps.
It’s like, she dares the storm,
Even though she knows it’s futile,
The proud in him confirms,
That the end could be brutal.
But the little now doesn’t care,
She just wants to fly.
The storm does see the bird’s hindrance,
But would not understand the heart,
He will do what he wants,
That is what he is doing from the start.
He will choose when to come,
His wish no one can predict,
When his fun will become,
A thing getting vapid,
He’ll spare the imploring planet.
The rain can be the reason of someone’s laughter,
It can also make one morose.
The torrent of pouring water,
Is also something he does.
If his will says,
It’ll be a shower of delight.
If he wants it to be the other way,
It can become an element of fright.
Now after going a mile,
The bird is in terror,
Still the storm being hostile,
And the bird being the bearer.
Though she is tired,
But hasn’t lost all hopes,
And so with eyes like angel she desired,
The thoughts of good and optimism.
But when she looked up with faith,
And saw the grey sky,
She fatigue and her pale breath,
But still she flies.
“Stubborn she is no less”,
Thinks the storm, and now he the outrageous,
Losing his charge on the rage,
The sky shines a red that’s vicious.
Then from somewhere a lightning bolt,
Suddenly strikes before the bird,
While she runs from the jolt,
Several others in her surround appeared.
She moves carefully,
But the storm is furious,
And he would not stop,
Until he becomes victorious.
Then a surprising tremor ripples,
Through her and little’s every part stops,
Down the bird with rush tumbles,
With eyes full of teardrops,
And her vision turns grey,
But did she lose the fray?
As the bird, hit the soil,
She remembered a life,
A life that never once gave her the turmoil,
But always love in rife.
Also a light that the bird saw,
When she first opened her eyes,
Now got vacuumed,
Leaving behind the blackness of demise.
The storm witnessed the whole saga,
But still he won’t remorse,
A beautiful little lay dead down,
Sometime else, again a creature would morose,
Because the nefarious never bows.
Copyright © Tuisha Sircar | Year Posted 2013
I stand here by my window looking outwards
In a house across the street are pairs of newly caged birds
Parrots , sparrows and some fancy exotic birds all in a single cage
I knew in that tiny contraption, they were filled with ultimate rage
Maybe their wings were cropped and space scarce
I have seen their movements change in due course
They’re a restless lot , their struggles relentless
But their desire to fly is boundless
To the owners, they are just beautiful pets
A sense of ownership , something to possess I guess
But to these birds, this is sheer hell
How in happiness would they possibly dwell?
Birds are natural dancers
And they are such graceful prancers
In fact everything alive is meant to move
To be nourished in frredom for it to grow
it was never meant to be still and stuck in tiny places
That is why God made this world so huge with expansive spaces
It was meant to fly free
It was meant to be.
It seeks fulfillment as it flies
Across the sky and watch the world go by
I hear their songs of sadness as they chirp everyday
They aren’t singing tunes of hope, life for them is bleak and grey
Its more a wooful cacophony than a melody
Perhaps as the time goes by, they will learn to live by
And accept their new surrondings
But alas what a waste of wings
If only they hear the plight of these hapless birds
And sense the sounds of silence, what a waste of life’s joy in flight
Cos their clipped wings can never flap in delight …
Whose loss is it anyway?
Is what the world might indifferently say
And perhaps justify as karmic cycle being repaid
Alas! Isn’t another vicious cycle being relaid?
Contest Question : After death if you have to enter this Earth life ...why?
Copyright © Savvy Raj | Year Posted 2015
I do not know?
Criminal lies, criminal ties
To a past of what beneath we try
To escape a suffocating why.
Forever exploited by a past
Experiences gone wrong so fast
The bad seems to forever last.
Can’t seem to gasp a single breath of air
In a world so cold and so unfair
These four concrete walls, now my lair
Forever waiting to see the day
When justice will come my way
Until then I bow on knee and pray
Copyright © Nicole Signorelli | Year Posted 2010
That's what I feel like- a bird
in a cage
Who from imprisonment, is filled
On the brink of self-destruction; about
Due to the melodrama of a theatrical
Got Me with grey hair looking a bit beyond
And, contemplating LIFE without ME, turning
Copyright © Karin Edwards | Year Posted 2013
On the green hill
I could not see
For the birds
Beyond the rock
I could not see
Once was natural
Is now reduced
Copyright © Uwe Stroh | Year Posted 2015
If you can’t find sweet joy today
It’s no good waiting for it
Most people search for happiness
Then it worries them a bit
When real joy does them elude
Happiness might last a while
Yet if it comes from your desires
Then not for long, you’ll smile
Folk wish for this, they wish for that
They always want something
And as each time they get their wants
It’s surely bound to bring
Unhappiness again real soon
For then they’ll yearn again
Then round, and round those circles go
That drive a man insane
Life is filled with untold joy
Watch a squirrel in a tree
Or listen to the dawn chorus
They’re always telling thee
That life is joy, and joy is life
One don’t need much at all
When awareness, it is honed
Then life is beautiful
13 February 2016
Copyright © peter duggan | Year Posted 2016