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Bird Philosophy Poems | Bird Poems About Philosophy

These Bird Philosophy poems are examples of Bird poems about Philosophy. These are the best examples of Bird Philosophy poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

Dead tree

Dead tree.

She stands there like she has for years
The life in her all gone
Once she wore a coat of green
And she'd be filled with song
As feathered friends of every kind
Would rest among her leaves
And as in life the same in death
Our tree will never grieve.

So all alone, she looks, this tree
All etched against black clouds
Although the life in her be gone
She stands there looking proud
And all her majesty is seen
By those with eyes to see
I take her picture once again
Try to catch her mystery

21 September 2013 @1920hrs.


Details | Pantoum | |

WHEN I WAS YOUNG

When I was young and life was easy
I never thought but of the next day.
For the young, things can be so breezy
It is the child's way.

I never thought but of the next day
Until that day came upon me.
It is the child's way
And I did not want to see.

Until that day came upon me
I was carefree like the bird on high.
And I did not want to see
The dark adult horizons that would make me cry.

I was carefree like the bird on high
Only to be trapped by love
The dark adult horizons that would make me cry
Crushing me down from above.

Only to be trapped by love
For the young, things can be so breezy
Crushing me down from above
When I was young and life was easy.


Dan Cwiak ... written for:
Paula Swanson's Pantoum contest


Details | Rhyme | |

Phoenix rising

Phoenix Rising.

She's a golden bird with wings afire, like an eagle she appears
Her age be often very great some say one hundred years.
At death she builds her funeral pyre and puts herself to flame
But she will rise above the fire and she will live again.

This mighty bird rules Scorpio, a deep and mystic sign
Which births those brooding types of folk with questions on their mind.
Who's lives be ruled by transformation, who must rise above the fire
Yes Scorpios be here on earth to rise above desire.

It starts off with the Scorpion, boy she knows how to sting
She hides herself in icy water, to desires she will cling.
And she must grow into an eagle and fly high in the sky
She must peel away the onion layers and learn before she dies.

And then her golden feathers, come ablaze with orange fire
And the Phoenix bird she will rise up above those bold desires.
The fiery eagle will build her pyre and put herself to flames
This be the song of transformation, when life's no more the same.


Details | Free verse | |

Look

Look from inside yourself and you will see.
All the splendor of God's creativity.
Flowers mountains bird bees
Animals and plants of all species.
Beautiful sights to please the eyes.
All people of every color shape and size.
Look at yourself your are God's prize.
Built by his hands so healthy and strong.
Given the strength to always carry on.
The beauty of life is open like a book.
In every little cranny and nook.
God's love is always there 
All you have to do is look.
Everything is within your grasp
All you have to do is ask.
Look to God to complete all tasks.
See the bird fly and see his grace.
The beauty of God is in every Human's face.
Look! His love shines brighter than sunrays.
Look to God and you will be happy all your days.





Details | Ballade | |

In love with life

In love with it all

I’m in love with all of it
I haven’t got much wealth
I guess I’m getting older now
I’m running down on health
But I’m in love with all of it
Every blade of grass, each tree
I love it with my heart and soul
I adore its mystery.

Everything in life excites me
I don’t know why this be
But I don’t suffer anymore
With depressive misery
Within my world I am a king
Cause I have everything
Every day is dear to me
Each moment makes my heart sing.

That golden Sun there in the sky
Is looking down on me
As he colors all with wondrous glory
Creating so much mystery
As here I sit, so all alone
The whistling soothes my soul
As canary, caged, just sings for me
And the morning feels so whole.

16 September 2013 @ 1125hrs.


Details | Narrative | |

A TRAGEDY OF PRIDE hubris or BIRD BRAIN

                     A TRAGEDY OF PRIDE ( hubris)
                       

In the Arctic nights the jazz born North Lights sound
with a music of their own. Fair winds ferry fragile birds--
take to the skies in search of sympathetic warmth profound

while white breathless silence magnifies each sound as it is heard
and few venture forth, like bears they dash to find a haven
where they can hide until reluctantly the sun has stirred--

But, there is one jay bird who is not one of nature’s craven
creatures-- Waiting for a spring call from his mate, he hops into the hungry snow
to dance a dangerous dance in icy morning with the ravens.

There is a God flung magic that dashes high above the haughty human know
among the ancient secret kingdoms of the mystery sky--
And there it is that Wisdom’s Word is spread by wing and wayward winds that blow

their way in worldwide splendor and intricate magnificence that defies
the mind of man.  It is a truth that dalliance in vanity is inborn---
Man or bird, into the nature of some spirits-- it low lies

and becomes incited when grand fame or imagined glory has been shorn
by another .  And , so-- in Persia when the Prince of Peacocks heard
murmurs of the razzing ravens and the sassy sparrows high sky airborne

a proclamation that the World knew now there lived a peerless bird--
plucky-proud, surpassing the peacock -- Jay magnificent with a spirit daunting, a weight
of valiant blue in shades escaped of double rainbows, color-blurred

who bedazzled all nature’s eyes and winds of ear, that judiciously beheld each trait.
The peacock, no longer Highest Prince of Birds, screamed a terrible and cosmic sound
of jealousy.   Ignoring all the glory that still made him great--
the vain and foolish peacock fell-- stunned and breathless to the ground.




Victoria Anderson-Throop  2012 ©
Written in Juja, Kenya
Bird is Stellar Jay, common in Valdez, Alaska


Details | I do not know? | |

'Little bird, what troubles thee'

Little bird, what ails thee
      is it the bread in your belly
little bird, what troubles thee
      is it the bread of misery

is it the bitterness in your heart, 
     or the offense you can't forgive
is it the anguish that sets you apart, 
     or the hurt that holds you captive 
 
is it the cancer of bitter love, 
     or the loss of deserved affection 
is it the cruel withdrawal of 
     his tenderness and compassion 

life is much too brief
      and youthful love's even briefer still,
your forestalled relief 
      keeps you from seeing His eternal will

what befalls you 
      is neither unshared nor a mystery
God sheds tears for you
      in the midst of your painful agony

little bird, what ails thee
      is it the bread in your belly
little bird, what troubles thee
      is it the bane of misery


Details | Free verse | |

Freedom Reigns

"'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


Details | Ballade | |

The power of life

The power of life

It’s so refreshing, sitting here
On the banks of Margaret river
Such a wondrous kind of feeling
My life, it does deliver
As I sit here on this patio
Letting world just seep on in
The sound of birds the breeze a singing
Oh my, what a lovely din.

So many birds here in this land
So many different songs
I sit here in this morning light
And I know that I belong
To all this wondrous stuff around me
I am it, and it is me
I know it when I hear that breeze
It’s a song of mystery.

Oh, what joy to be alive
On this lovely summer morn
Oh how wonderful to see
This new day being born
Oh, what joy to listen to
This bird song symphony
Oh what power there is in life
What power there is in me.

31 January 2014 @ 0552hrs.


Details | Ballade | |

I have it all

I have it all

What need I, I have it all
There’s nothing that I need
This garden offers everything
Oh, yes, it does indeed
Those branches dancing on the breeze
Green parrots gentle call
Soft music on the stereo
Oh yes, I have it all.

No treasures in this whole wide world
Could give me any more
One moment spent among the flowers
This be what I adore
Hibiscus with its purple flowers
Those softly cooing doves
Soft green leaves in the morning sun
Oh, all of this I love.

Those dark grey clouds that fill the sky
Give off a hint of rain
As I wait to feel the velvet drops
I’m like a man insane
Drinking in the sweet damp air
And this beauty all around
I open up my heart and soul
To the harmony here found.


Details | Ballade | |

Questions for everyone

Questions for everyone

Has anybody ever sat? 
In a garden filled with flowers
Have you felt the magic there?
Have you felt the power?
Have you sat there with the body still?
And the mind too, just the same?
Have you ever lost yourself?
As the mind stopped playing games

Have you seen those magic colours?
And really seen them too!
Have you felt the touch of the morning breeze?
Have you seen the way she do?
Touch those branches with her glory
Make them dance in the morning sun
As the sparkles nearly blow your mind
And you’re the holy one?

Have you ever heard the dove’s warm Coo
And that deep, deep ravens croak?
Have you seen the mulberry tree?
As she dons her summers coat?
And radiance and reverence
Are all that one can know
Have you ever sat there in the garden?
And watched the morning flow.


Details | Light Poetry | |

Rabbits and Frogs

I believe
In dark matter
Nuns in robes
Making their habits
Deep with in the earth
Running rabbits
Singing of the end
Eat all you can
Matter it will not
Expansion till fully bloated
There will be a resurrection
We all shall become frogs
Making quantum leaps
Until nothing matters
The big bang
Warped inside my mind
I believe
In rabbits and frogs


Details | Rhyme | |

My Kingdom

My Kingdom

When I’m in my garden
I’m a King, I have a throne
I sit here very solitary
I am happy on my own

All my subjects gather round
The birds, the flowers, the trees
And all those noisy Sand gropers
The frogs, and all the bees.

Canaries have a special place
They play music for my court
Often wild birds join along
As I sit wrapped in thought.

My courtyards are not tidy
All the bushes cling together
But hey, they give me so much shade
In our hot sticky weather.

So I sit and write my memoirs down
Like a good King really should
As I sit here in my kingdom
And I really feel so good.

28 August 2013 @ 1419hrs.


Details | Dramatic Verse | |

The Silent Lamb

The silent bell rings in the night,
Calling the devils to kneel to the light,
What once was, becomes no more,
As the light breaks through the open door.

What you think and what you feel,
What you saw and thought was real,
Is now only dust on the road,
The desolate remains of your ancient abode.

The new light is rising on the hill,
The new song is singing down in the well,
The new souls are dreaming of your face,
The new hearts are beating at you pace.

The old ideas and reasons you gave,
Are buried in the tomb and in the grave,
The rotting bone and flesh are gone,
In the morning dew, in the morning sun.

The light shines through the open door,
Casts no shadow on the old dirty floor,
The ancient laws of reason and might,
Crumble to dust in the morning light.

What once was real and certain as rock,
Is now the dream the baby forgot,
The new light coming to wake you my love,
The silent lamb and the flying dove.

more of my poems at :
http://labyrinthoflies.com


Details | Free verse | |

Seven Billion Reasons

Another baby born, another bushel of wheat
Another piece of land, for another family to eat

Another net is cast, another fish is caught
Another fire in the forest, another tree sought
Another bird flees, another bird gone
No home for the beast, diversity all gone

Crops in the amazon, Rivers clogged up
Flooding in cities, Seas on the up
Nature under pressure, Pollution the price
Shortage of wheat, Shortage of Rice
Temperature rising, Deserts expanding

Oil running out, the world is in doubt
War for resources, the west uses force
While the poor beg in cities
Victims of policies, Victims of atrocities

Seas that are empty, bellies that are swelled
Mankind too many, Riots a plenty
The button is pushed, and humanity is hushed

The Earth is now empty, Heaven is full
And we are seven billion reasons
For God to cry “Treason” ”Treason”

And the stars look on, silent
And galaxies die alone
And no one will know.
This place,
Where once, our babies did grow.
But time will go on
And the earth is aglow
Just as it was, seven billion years ago.

Seven billion today
Tomorrow more
What is the real figure?
For all out Nuclear War?


Details | Lyric | |

Through that door

Through that door

As the Sun crashed through my window
As the birds awoke the dawn
My mind made new by daybreak
It became the day reborn.
And a whisper stirred within me
From my heart arose these words
“Go through that door to the other side
Then you’ll  “hear” these blessed birds”.

And those trees did softly rustle 
In the early morning breeze.
And I became the morning 
and the breeze that moved these trees
And the whisper softly told me 
As the dawn it beckoned me
“Go through that door to the other side
Then you’ll dance just like those trees”.

Through that door, through that door
Go through that door beyond.
Just keep on moving to the other side
Let the shadows all be gone.

That door seemed so elusive
When I sought it with my mind
Then the whisper seemed to tell me
Just leave your mind behind
Then I felt the sweetest music
As the trees they shone so bright
And as I wandered through that door
I felt such sweet delight




Details | Rhyme | |

Little birdie in a tree

Little birdie in a tree

Little birdie in a tree
Singing your song just for me
Oh how wonderful you be
Filling me with mystery                                                                                                                                                            

You have no worries, have no care
Though danger it lies everywhere
A hawk flies over, off you flee
But soon you’re back here in this tree.

The human race could learn from you
Cause worry, worry’s, all they do
About the past, tomorrow too
They get themselves in such a stew.

Sweet little bird, I love your song
It’s in your world I do belong
With no tomorrows, just today
I always like to live this way.

15 February 2014 @ 1340hrs.









Details | Ballad | |

The joy of the pheasant shoot

The joy of the pheasant shoot.

Getting set for the big event
The good folk do their stuff
They beat the earth with sticks, do they?
With their little dogs so tough 
They flush those pheasants from the scrub
So all can have some fun
Killing them with smiling faces
As they fire beloved guns.

Then as the pheasants in a panic
They bolt into the sky
Our hero’s with their guns in hand
Make sure that hundreds die
As the air is filled with the cracking sounds
As birds fall all around
Just so these fools can get there jollies
These corpses cover ground.

I wonder sometimes if these hero’s
Have any souls at all
That they could get such satisfaction
Doing these acts so cruel
Sometimes it leaves me speechless
At the way folk get their pleasure
Killing beauty just for fun
Is an ugly kind of leisure.

10 September 2013 @ 1340hrs




Details | Ballade | |

Galah tree

Galah Tree

I heard the squawking screeching, shrieking
Oh, the sound was deafening
Looked up in that Banksia tree
So much joy to me did bring
Those pink and grey birds
Scattered there
Amidst the branches everywhere.

It’s morning time they’ve come for feeding
Ain’t no seed upon their, trays
As they perch among the green leaves
They shriek and scream and screech away.
I see me there the sight of beauty
All those pinks amidst the leaves
It was the way the sun was shining
Oh, such a picture it did weave.

I fill the seed trays up with tucker
I love me so these little guys
They come into my garden daily
I watch them feed it makes me wise.
Watching me, the song of nature
Taking photos writing poems
This be what my life’s about now
Oh, how such beauty keeps me glowing..


Details | Ballade | |

The bubble deep within

The bubble deep within

Beyond the din in all of us
There’s a core of happiness
Just like a small bird in a tree
Who just let’s life’s caress
Cloak him in its sweet delight
Then flees from a bird of pray
Yet returns and sings again his song
As he celebrates the day.

We humans all have this within
Behind the foolish din
All one has to really do
Is take a look within
Behind all of life’s misery
There’s a bubble deep inside
And all it really wants to do
Is come out from where it hides.

Most they wallow in there mire
They’re choked by all those weeds
Buried in their deep desires
Drowned within their greed
So filled with wants they do not see
The sweetness of their lives
But still this bubble deep within
Is there, it still survives.

21 December 2013 @1327hrs.


Details | Couplet | |

Tiny Bird

I can’t complain I’m sheltered and fed
But this nagging ambition still builds in my head
Of what was written and what was said
Of a lonely road far from my bed

You don’t venture far tiny bird in the thicket
The home you mind is safe from the wicked
It’s a shame you can’t fly far away
And see all the cultures time built on its way
With the people of both peace and war
And the beauty of things in nature to adore
But your home is well kept and happy it seems
But what of your heart, your wishes and your dreams

I can’t feel shame it would make me weaker
About the wasted moments left to the meeker
The scoundrel in me keeps my heart from fever
But fever is wanted by my soul the dreamer

So tiny bird would you say you much wiser
The time you spend you count like a miser
Or is it that you take simple love in your day
In the little you make from the soil and the clay
Do the storms bother you at all little one?
Do the storms keep you hiding waiting for the sun?
I see the light is there in the weather so destructive
Are clouds to you renewal or counter productive?

I take it we differ in thought and song
Though I can no longer say yours is wrong
But I take from you a lesson - a lovely subtraction
In the happiness to be found in simple satisfaction


Details | Couplet | |

JAIL BIRD

            JAIL BIRD

To U.S. born both wild and free
There is no worse place one could be
Than in a prison cell for years
For most men ‘tis a gruesome fear

But to souls in other lands
Where freedom’sjust a word that stands
On paper-- but an object dead--
With it you cannot bake your bread.

In movies in these lands they watch
Thugs whose pants fall off their crotch.
Who off to court they go-- then jail--
No mention made of tears or bail

Third Worlds watch the U.S. cells
That should resemble Dante’s hell.
Instead they look so germ free clean
Like the quarters of a Queen

Luxury in killer's cell?
How can thieves live-- oh so --well
U.S. jail is no bad life--
Well, you might miss someone's wife

As one boss of one small store
Told me-- as he scrubbed his floor:
“Me, I'll fly to U.S. land
Kill some guy and live so grand."

His tune said joke-- but it was not--
(U.S. TV makes brains rot)

But-- twas no secret-- truth could tell
He'd snuggle in Obama's cell.








Victoria Anderson-Throop ©               December 1, 2012


Details | ABC | |

The punishment of the Paradise

I saw my dream fly away like a bird that escaped my body.

It is dificult to touch something that can fly like a bird because dreams are born to 
live free in the mind, as the birds to the skies.

You can see the dreams, but from the moment that you try to touch them they 
disappear...just as the water disappears in the desert if you go close.

Don't try to taste the apple of paradise.
See it but don't touch it.

Because the dreams keep all the secrets and the magic of our lost paradise.


Copyright Constantinos Grigoriadis © All rights reserved


Details | Ballade | |

Why would I swap

Why would I swap?

What have they, these men of wealth?
What could they give to me
I have the skies the clouds the rain
I have eternity 
For I would live within this now
Expecting naught at all
Because this world, all by itself
Is so, so beautiful.

I see them with their dull, glum faces
No hint of any smile
And yet I’m supposed to envy them!
With all their wealthy style
No belly laughter comes from them
Cause this be all dried up
As for the joys of life itself
They hardly fill the cup.

While birds are singing in the trees
And the stars shine bright at night
While the flowers smell so wonderful
And the birds give sweet delight!
Oh, I could go on all day long
Why would I want at all?
When my world is oh, so beautiful
And theirs seems oh, so cruel.

2 August 2013 @ 0740hrs.




Details | Couplet | |

Bear and the Mocking Bird

Should I? Could I? Would I?  The teenage bear was getting nowhere, fast.
He wanted that big salmon that had come up the falls, almost to his grasp.
But the current appeared too swift, for even a bear as strong as him.
Still, that salmon’s presence mocked him; he was dinner on the fin.
So as the bear lumbered out, a mocking bird suddenly began to mock…
“You’re going over the falls in one more step. Stop! Think! Think! Stop!”
“Didn’t your momma ever teach you even one simple little thing?”
Now, he had left home because his Momma had always told him what to do.
So he turned to the bird and growled… “Why should I listen to you?”
The bird mocked back… “Because you don’t stop and think things thru.”
Then, at that point the bear slipped, and almost went over the falls, it’s true! 
He heard the bird mock, “Stop! Think! Think! Stop! Listen, you lumbering brute!”
Angrily and begrudgingly, he admitted the bird was right: a plan was due.
So with a branch he sent the salmon down to the bottom of the falls below.
Then, later with dinner replete, it was now time for dessert to bestow.
So he decided to visit the berry farmer and plunder most of his crop.
Again the mocking bird hollered at him. “Stop! Think! Think! Stop!”
“The farmer has a dog and gun! If you destroy his summers’ crop…”
“A bearskin rug will be your fate. So Stop! Think! Think! Stop!”
After 3 or 4 more times at mocking… The bear finally gave in… 
For each time he had mocked him… He had also saved his life, again…
Since he had left momma behind, he now realized that he had done nothing right.
And though they were both rough, tough, loners: they still became strangely tight.
So in the end, they became fast friends, with each one helping the other out…

The moral to my story is: there’s a friend that can understand anyone, even you.
Friends don’t have to be beautiful or popular to be true and help you thru.
They are all very precious and none should be thrown away.  
For you’ll need all their understanding to help: see you on your way.


Details | Ballad | |

How the I Ching came about

How the ‘I Ching’ came about.

Once there lived a wise old man
His name, it was Lau Tzu
This man he lived in ancient China
And what he loved to do
Was watch the birds, and all the beasts
And watch the rivers flow
He had no time for the foolish ones
Who’d say these words ‘I know!’

Folk would come from miles around
To hear this old man speak
Hanging on to every word
For they had come to seek
The secret of their lives, through him
Though he had naught to say
Except to flow just like a river
And live your life today.

One day he made to go and live
Where the forests, they grew wild
But he was stopped there at the gate
For the guards he had beguiled
They made him stop and write a book
Before they’d let him go
That’s how the ‘I Ching’ came about
A book to help folk grow.

26 December 2013 @ 1130hrs.


Details | Free verse | |

Hippo and the Dodo

The Hippopotamus and the Dodo Bird wanted to paint pictures on the rocks.
They truly loved what humans did and were called pictographs.
Now the Dodo bird was flighty, so much so, that he could not even fly.
But still he took off all day long, FaLaLa’ing... inspiration for to find.
You see, taking care of business was not the Dodo’s normal state of mind…
He went from pictographs, to inspiration, to finally just running all around.
You might say what he worked for, like himself, will never now be found.
Him like his ideas never came close, you see, to getting off the ground.

The Hippo was so different… as different as he can be…
He wanted to do his best so he went to the Prehistoric University.
The University taught him all the finer things of being alive.
It also taught him pictographs and in the water how to survive.
To him learning was evolving as he painted on the finer art of dance… 
Now all the hippos learn from this, as babies in the water, they do prance…
Today, the pictographs still remain hidden on the underwater cliffs enhanced. 
And with this help… Hippos still become so graceful in their intricate dance.
That even Zoo’s demand their presence and protect them on their land.

The moral to this story is to always do the best you can…
And pay close attention that you do everything very well.
For the Dodo was too flighty to survive even to this day…
But the Hippo is still so very graceful as he dances the day away.


Details | Free verse | |

Maturity is for thr Birds

Maturity is for the birds
I heard the vultures gossip 
Over sinews and crunchy bones
At the time it seemed almost prophetic 
When I saw the crows
Coming down 
For leftovers 
Ravenous joining fun
Over spirits and fine innards 
The special guest forgotten
And true a nameless victim 
But, maturity is for the birds 
An attribute only wasted on some


Details | Lyric | |

HOW CAN A BIRD THAT WAS BORN FOR JOY SIT IN A CAGE AND SING

The Cage is so dark and so misty, I can hardly breathe there.
The words that echo there are so melancholic and appalling,
The Voices can only whisper as if they are strangled by Fear.
How can a bird that was born for joy, sit in a cage and sing!

The constellations of night, the luminescence of rainforest,
The infinite azure sky, the crimson horizon, the cozy pond,
The ocean, the stony mountains, even the shady bird-nest,
Everything summons my Heart but still it cannot respond.

My Heart is a song bird that is imprisoned in an inner Cage.
How can a bird that was born for joy, sit in a cage and sing!
Let my Heart fly towards liberty, breaking bars of bondage
So that it can sing in a merry tune again by flapping its wing.


Details | ABC | |

You never can fly like a bird

If you want to fly 
First of all, learn to walk. 
If you learn to walk, 
Walk a lot before to fly. 
Always remember though 
You are not a bird. 

The oldies don't count with years. 
It is the experiences that makes somebody to feel old. 
The knowlege comes from inside the experiences 
But you can fly all you life in the sky of knowledge... 
And you never can fly like a bird.

Copyright Constantinos Grigoriadis © All rights reserved