Bird Dark Poems | Bird Poems About Dark

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

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Details | Quatrain |

Cawing Crow

In the night movement there’s a wary crow Straight up into the blue moon it flies high Cocking its flight to avoid its cold rays Each night in the moon brings a large crow’s sigh Elbows of their feet bend throughout the air As the bird sings, a gorgeous sound to me I can sense its flight near me, overhead He’s flapping near to me, but I can’t see Only if the moon is shining greatly Can I see, tonight it comes in and out But sure when it comes out of the darkness The moon only brings shades that are about Circling there above me cawing with joy Listening do I hear his great power Appearing now within the little light Dips down on me as I stand and cower Conquering my fear I reach for him near I hope that he comes onto my dark arm He does just that, I look deep in his eyes He swallows my heartbeats without alarm Now I move to the nearest tree and caw Allowing him to fly to high branches Power envelopes me, I seem to float I must leave him to the highest reaches Russell Sivey

Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse |

The Grim Reaper

I see you
I am no fool
Like ravens over prey
You are keeping your eye on me
I see
With my one good eye
Your hunger
Salivating lips
My heart may stop beating
My arm feeling the pain of your grip
I laugh at you
You forgot to keep the musical score
As I wrote my notes for the masses to pursue
Ah you let go once more
You will win one day, no doubt
Darkness is our brotherly connection
Death our final compromise

We all know you will fly again
Over death and ancient ways

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Pantoum |


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

Copyright © Daniel Cwiak | Year Posted 2010

Details | Prose Poetry |



Evening slipped out of the cave
Crossed the rock wall
And buried the city in soft kisses
Sun god‘s dripping soup
Gave her child a sunset glow
She went back to her cave
To sleep, to grow

Night birds on the prowl
Growl of dark panther
Unsteady footfalls of ghosts
Silhouetted trees
Cacophony of fledglings 
Snakes ripe with venoms
Green eyed owl preening feathers
Deep in jungles fairies play
Near a lake moon sneaks in
Embers of childhood
Smoldering in deep.

Copyright © RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY | Year Posted 2014

Details | Light Poetry |

Bird with no wings

I lie to myself I don't know who I have become. 
I am a wife a daughter, a sister and also a mum. 
I put on a mask for the world to see.
but underneath it all do they really know me. 
I'm a shadow, a fake a perception of who I should be.
when underneath it all, 
I really just want is to be free.
Not free in the sense of running away. 
but free in the sense I do things my way! 
I have been through so much, that is why I am I so sad.
I did what I wanted the good and the bad. 
I feel lost alone and forever in denial.
the life that I have chosen it makes me want to run a mile. 
I love my husband my kids and I wouldn't change a thing. 
but I feel trapped and uneasy like a bird that cannot sing. 
Free like a bird is what I want to be,
free like a eagle soaring through and around the highest tree. 
I want to perch on the heavens and look down from up above. 
because where I am trapped I am not feeling any love. 
I Have two sides the good and the bad,
I mimic sometimes happy and sometimes sad. 
I Will find the thing that centres me one day, 
until that time all I can do is stay.

Copyright © Chelsie Kerr | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |

Green Spanish Eyes - Part 1

Ah Consuela! Invoking vast vistas for visions of green Spanish eyes, I discern them again where she left me back then, as we kissed when she parted, my friend. So I’m daring to tread towards the klieg lights ahead, where I’ll wait till I see her ascend. Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she teases the mirror with green Spanish eyes; Her serape entangles her ebony bangles like lace on the sorcerer’s looms, And her capes of the night, she drapes tight to excite, and her fan is embellished with plumes. Ah Consuela! I’m watching as spectators savour her green Spanish eyes; Taming wild concertinas, the dark ballerina performs on the concert hall stage, But she shies from the sound of ovation unbound like a timorous bird in a cage. Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she quickens the pit with her green Spanish eyes, As the cymbals shake, clashing, the floodlights wake, flashing, igniting the wild fireflies, And the piccolo piper’s inviting the vipers to coil in the cold caldron skies. Ah Consuela! I’m watching the shimmering shadows in green Spanish eyes As I rise from my chair and converge to the stair with a hesitant sip of my wine. Though she doesn’t deny me, she wanders right by me with neither a look nor a sign. Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she waves to the stage with her green Spanish eyes, (For her senses scoff, scorning the biblical warning of kisses of Judas that sting, With her pierced ears defeating the echoes repeating) and smiles at the bluebird that sings. Ah Consuela! I’m watching faint embers a’ stir in her green Spanish eyes, For a soft spoken stranger enveloping danger has captured the rhyme in the room As he slips into sight through the scent of the night and the breath of her heavy perfume. Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she gauges his guise through her green Spanish eyes - From his gypsy-like mane, to his diamond stud cane, to the raven engraved on his vest - For a faraway form, a tempestuous storm, lurks and heaves neath the cleav’e of her breasts. Ah Consuela! I’m watching the caravels cruising her green Spanish eyes; With the castanets clacking upon the deck cracking, he whips ’round his cloak with a whiz And without sacrificing, at mien so enticing, she floats with her face facing his.
Part 2
Ah Consuela! I’m watching, the vertigo veiling her green Spanish eyes, While the drumbeat pounds, droning, the rhythm sounds, moaning, of jungles Jamaican entwined In the valleys concealing the vineyards revealing the vaults in the caves of her mind. Ah Consuela! I’m watching life's carnivals call to her green Spanish eyes, And with paused palpitations the tom-tom temptations come taunting her tremulous feet With her toe tips a’ tingle while jute boxes jingle for jesters that jive on the street. Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she rides summer tides in her green Spanish eyes, And her silhouette’s travelling on ripples unravelling and shaking the shivering shores, As she strides from the light to the taste of the night through the candlelit cabaret doors. Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she dances till dawn flashing green Spanish eyes, With her movements adorning a trickle of morning as sipped by the mouth of the moon, While her tresses twirl, shaming the filaments flaming that flow from the sun’s oval spoon. Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she masks for a moment her green Spanish eyes. Then the bluebird that sings ceases preening her wings and descends as a lean bird of prey - As she flutters her ’lashes and laughs in broad splashes, his narrowing eyes start to stray. Ah Consuela! I’m watching fey carousels spin in her green Spanish eyes, And the porcelain ponies and leprechaun cronies race, reaching for gold and such things, Even being reminded that only the blinded are fooled by the brass in the rings. Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she shepherds the shadows with green Spanish eyes, But as evening sinks, ebbing, the skyline climbs, webbing, and weaves through the temples of stone, While the nightingales sing of a kiss on the wing in the depths of the dunes all alone. Ah Consuela! I’m watching the music and magic in green Spanish eyes, As she dances enchanted, while firmly implanted in tugs of his turbulent arms, Till he cuts through the strings, tames the bluebird that sings, and seduces once more with his charms. Ah Consuela! I’m watching, the citadel steams in her green Spanish eyes, And behind the dark curtain the savants seem certain that nothing and no one exist, But though vapours look vacant, the vagabond vagrants remain in a mythical mist.

Copyright © Terry O'Leary | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |



I am trapped in a dimension
Where only repetition exists,
That reoccurs the colour theme of black. 

But the windows are very visible from the doom,
Delineating bright sunlight and pavement colour of the moon. 
Best of all, I can see the birds flapping their mighty wings.

I unfold my arms with barely any strength, 
And reach for them, 
Hoping to become one of them.

Every night and morning when the outside of the windows,
Is beautifully shaded with calming grey that mellows.

And when it is painted in soft blended colour of thick orange and light yellow,
Birds fly between South and North through the colour of fallow. 

I can tell very easily without effort, 
Each of them holds great stories
Because I was like them once, 
Who also held great stories. 

Yes, I was one of those birds, 
With pride and strength, 
That glided through the treasure sites, 
And enjoyed when the warm breeze kissed my cheeks
Over golden sparkling oceans.

But now my wings are broken,
Memories and valuables torn apart in ashes,
In to pieces that cannot be glued back. 

So I always whisper to myself,
With solemn remorse,
I sure do miss those days. 

Copyright © Andrew Park | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

The Twilight Moor

Gazing out upon dusky barren moor,
Where gray grass grasps the air
Finding no purchase but sad allure
Straight stalks elapse their endless despair.

Teased by tales of golden reach
Tricked by gales, whose song they preach.

Redtail’s velvet wings breach the sky,
Maroon lips who kiss the grass
Stirring the song, its desperate sigh
Catching the words, her beak of crystal glass

Behind her, midnight shadow draws
Fells her beauty with unseen charcoal paws

Scarlet tears dampen the earth below
Nurture the roots held by dusty truth
Finally, the wind, gray grass’ will bestow
The hawk once, now the fountain of youth.

Litany of silence reigns in dusky glare,
Each blade bowed in mournful prayer.

Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015

Details | Heroic Couplets |

Twice Born

A gentile man of vivid dreams oft apt to walk at night
Followed where his feet would lead under the pale moon light
When chance he did into a grove of oak and alder trees
He spied a pool of nature's own fed by an ancient spring
There upon he cast his gaze beneath the moon so bright
And saw him something oddly fey revealed with second sight

At once belief that made him he who walked where others went
Faded in the mist of myth and planted there instead
A vision of a greater truth not seen, and yet perceived
From deep within the pool of being, liberation to receive
Reflections at the water's edge revealed his truest form
A life he's yet to realize, or a life he's lived before

For there upon this moon lit night, deep in that ancient wood
Where once there was an aging man an ageless raven stood
Twice born of myst beneath the sky, no longer bound by fear
Casting off his worldly flesh, he leapt into the air
He set his course by moon lit ways, a shadow taking flight
Till found he day light's brilliant rays that freed him from the night." 

                                                                   ~Christopher Thor Britt

The Everything Halloween Poetry Contest

Copyright © Christopher Thor Britt | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

The Humans and I

Ones who wage,
Ones who rage,
Ones who take,
Ones who pay,
Ones who craze,
Ones who rave,
Ones who crave…

Ones who fear,
Ones who breathe,
Ones who give,
Ones who need,
Ones who will,
Ones who weave…

Ones who plead,
Ones who beg,
Ones who beseech,
Ones who entreat,
Ones who appeal,
Ones who volunteer,
Ones who disappear…

The ones who follow,
The ones that don’t know about tomorrow,
The ones who don’t deserve the morrow…

The ones who sleep,
The ones who cry,
The ones who live,
The ones who die…

The ones who proclaim,
Those who say they create,
The ones who ache,
The ones who don’t wait,
The ones who hesitate,
The ones who don’t concentrate,
The ones who fornicate,
The ones who procrastinate…

Those who fall in temptation,
Those who get in frustration,
Those who sometimes feel desperation,
Those who keep going without caution,
Those in motion,
Those in tension,
Those losing notion,
Those being poisoned,
Those getting in distortion,
Those following the broken diction,
Those dying like the billions,
Those without unction,
Those washed in the oceans…

I might seem cold,
But it is you who is bold.
I might not express,
But it is you who doesn’t let me progress.
I might not seem like I seek,
But it is you who doesn’t know me…
I might seem like I need,
But it is you who might always be begging on your knees.
I might seem dull,
But it is the one that is fool.
I might not be alight,
But it is you who isn’t truly alive…

I will remain neutral,
I will remain silver,
I will remain gray,
I feel darkness,
I feel light,
I will remain hallowed…,
After all, it is you who deserves no life…

I am a metal hawk,
I am a mountain goat,
I am a silver bird,
I am a gray wolf,
I am a white tiger,
I am a mystic rose…,
I am I…

I’m alive,
And I survive,
You are here,
However, it is you who deserves no life…

Being human does not imply that you have humanity…

Copyright © Ruben Alejandro Hernandez Diaz | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sonnet |

The Raven

Again the raven whose sleek, dark wings shine
sits upon my sagging sleek power line.
His eyes so questioning, he does sure stare.
Does he know something? Do I ask?
Should I dare? 5

Never, ever saying not even one little word
so still and silent, this dark looming bird.
Visits me each and every single day, but never a 
word does he say. My emotions I sense he knows
are mixed with his curious eyes affixed. 10

As the evening sunset finally domes
the dark bird returns to his home.
He leaves me with a feeling of such dread 
I hope tomorrow he will stay home instead. 14

Copyright © Sharon Gulley | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |

Darkest Day

In loving memory of Silly

The ominous clouds brew, icy darkness looms,
Evil cackle flashes sparks of its menacing fangs,
Sinking them deep into my soft yellow downy,
Yanking me apart, leaving me naked and lonely.

I shiver, tremble and chatter.
Mama, mama, where have you been?
I look at my nest up in the tree,
Mama, mama, why did you leave me?

Gnarled tree branches snatched away my home,
Clawing, ripping and towering tall over me,
The fall - blurred vision of trees, terror painfully gnaws,
Now, only, cold and numbness as I cannot feel my claws.

I inch forward slowly to find a worm.
Mama would have picked some for me.
But now, I scarce can see no hope,
The bittersweet taste of the worm makes me choke.

Suddenly, I find I am nestled in a little girl's hands.
The slightest tinge of warmth delights me,
Gently, she ruffles through my scarce feathers,
Puffing up, I brace the changing weather.

The pungent smell of the rain stings my nostrils,
I chirp helplessly in disgust,
Tears from the sky pelt on me, lashing out angrily,
I retreat, sink back in, and cry along silently.

Her home smells of fresh toast,
Mine smells of juicy worms, but I settle in anyway.
The fall has crushed my feet in its cruel hands,
My feet are broken, I cannot stand.

For the next few hours, I wallow in misery.
She knows nothing about my agonising pain,
But fits me into a sock to keep me warm,
As I listen to the sighing trees mourn.

The sock begins to feel cold and icy,
I try to swallow the slimy papaya she mushed,
But in my throat, the concoction swells and becomes thicker,
Burning sensation, daylight flickers.

I shiver, tremble and chatter.
Mama, mama, where have you been?
The rain distorts my view of my tree, 
Mama, mama, why did you leave me?

You guaranteed my freedom one day
You never said the price I had to pay
To never see another sun ray

If my life were a thread, it would now have frayed
What little daylight I saw had become grey
And as I cuddled up and started to pray

I became an angel today.

Copyright © Priscilla Lewis | Year Posted 2013

Details | Blank verse |

The Barn Owl

In silent air on silent wing
the deadly flight to one will find
unwelcome communion in the gloom
that hails the never-ending night

The heart shaped face belies the truth
imparting spiritual grace
a beating heart then nothing more 
a flash of white then empty space

Copyright © Ben Hamilton | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

Burning Our Dreams Into Cold, Dark Ashes

Burning Our Dreams Into Cold, Dark Ashes

Shall we dance to music 
of misty dawns
Celebrate the beauty of newborn fawns
join in Nature's treasures
stroll the woods and never measure
The beauty of its silent sound
the depth of its holy ground

Or just remember to praise
joy it shall forever raise
Songs in our hearts that give
paradise glimpses as we live
Pause to gaze at covering sky
stir its birds to forever fly
into arcs of colorful flashes
burning our dreams into cold, dark ashes!

Robert J. Lindley  09-29-2014

Note. - Greatly shortened rewrite of a poem I wrote in 1981.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014

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

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

A Candle In The Dark

A Candle in the dark
I could not see
A hand holding,
Could not hear
A voice calling,
But I was cold,
And sore for sight,
Was old
Long tired of night
And any spark would do
If in passing by chance
Was left
A glow of You.

A candle in the dark
No fancy cradle
Or proper handle for holding--
Not the slightest flutter of
Angel wings
Or strum of harps,
Reverent chant rising
From mysterious
Cloaked beings--
But always I have
Sensed Your warmth,
Safe suspension somewhere
Holding me
And anywhere will do
Because somehow
I know
At least
One supporting air
Is You--

A candle in the dark--
All warranties expired
None having ever
Been guarantees;
No sound trade-in
For newer model,
Too few years left
For loan-paying,
My little-light dimming
As The Thief
With illumination in his pocket
Slips silently away
As Time
Camouflaged as living
Leaves me where I started
But never doubting
In the end
To be led
Safely home
By Your loving candle
Out of my dark….

Copyright © Joe DiMino | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |

Six Blue Jays

Six blue jays converge at the birch
To sing their anomalous colloquial song,
They fashion a serene scene as they perch;
My mind so inclined to blindly sing along.

As I ponder their ways, in my midmorning daze;
I recall a tale my grandmother told—
Of a desolate day through a dishwashing gaze;
A heinous sight she was doomed to behold. 

Through her window; across the drive,
On the very top of some man-made pole,
A sinless and beautiful robin arrived;
Assembled a nest and called it her home.

She laid some eggs at the edge of spring,
And by summer they joined the day,
She taught her young about everything
For the time that comes when they should stray.

But then one day while mother was out
Collecting a feast for the rest of her nest,
A single blue jay swooped in for a bout—
Snipped off their heads and left.

Mother came back to the horrid mess;
The tragically pointless abhorrent wreck,
And with frantic confusion and great distress
She flew into the window and broke her neck.

So as I stare in the garden today;
And view such a seemingly innocent sight,
Behind the charm of those six blue jays
Could possibly rein six times the fright.

Copyright © Lxnnnie Rutledzh | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

The Swan

The peaceful, humble beauty 
of a white lily drifting on reflective night
hums a sweet melody 
of contrasting light.

Trusting the darkness 
to be his throne
and the moon of loneliness
to crown his soft, unheard moan.

I watch from bushes of scorn
that mock him cruelly.
His fragile crest is pierced by the thorn
of rejection and bleeds its sorrows silently.

The rejected jewels of nature are mourning
for the king of the skies to raise his wings
but he can't see beyond remembering
and can't see past the thorn's stings.

Oh, scarred heart of grace,
spread strenght and flee with wild freedom
unto priceless solace 
away from this desolate kingdom.

Oh, jewel in creation's crown,
look not to stirred reflection
for it is mere perversion, a frown,
of the white rose of perfection.

Go now, leave behind only
a legacy of despised beauty.

Copyright © Robyn Thomas | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku |

Haiku Calendar

Haiku Calendar 
(January to December in the Southern part of the U.S.A.)

snow and more snow falls 
cold wind and more cold wind blows 
all branches are bare 

starving and weak birds 
a chill grips before sunrise 
fall from bare branches 

warm afternoon wind 
thin morning ice melts on pond 
a song bird is heard 

poppies hide in grass 
drink from early morning showers 
bees drink from open buds 

warm ruffles new weeds 
clover covers budding ground 
crickets find their song 

hawk hunts small rabbit 
green hedges give good cover 
blood drips on clover 

sun waves off dark soil 
flowers grow only in shade 
bees hive drips sweet wax 

in shade cow chews cud 
waits for dark to find water 
sleeps on top of mound 

east winds pull cool rain 
quinces bright hill flowers thirst 
streams roar then fall quite 

squirrel hides acorn 
digs hole at foot of oak tree 
barks at gray wet sky 

leaf fall from elm tree 
vacant bird nest are exposed 
geese sound over head 

deer move over trail 
fawns loose baby spots and jump 
graze on holly leafs  

Copyright © Mike Samford | Year Posted 2007

Details | Couplet |

In the Morning Mist

The rose unfurls its petals to drink the morning dew,
warblers sharpen their trills, granting the Son his due.

Mother bat folds her wings, hangs upside down to rest,
baby clings to mother's fur, hidden in their leafy nest.

Four-o-clocks hide their faces against the dawning light, 
morning glories open wide, only to wilt and die at night.

Leaves on lavish branches with baited breath, await
lilting notes of day-wind sighing through the garden gate.

Deep within the forest glen, where fox hides and owl hoots,
the hidden world changes pace, each creature to its own pursuits.

A world without change would soon grow dull and invisible,
if all were night or all were day, diversity might be impossible.

Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

The Bird that is Loved and Loathed

It burns and it stings.
It hurts.
More than drowning beneath 
the ice.
More than remaining in a 
kindled flame
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 
of joy.
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 
the throne.
Rampage and rage why did you 
I began to wither and wither 
slumping along. So very soon I-
the child of fines- became a 
human raceme. 
The droops of the Lily of the 
Valley became the slumping of 
my heart.
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 
you so? 
Your intense spirt vanished only 
to supplement a monster. 
Mother, Monster and your tar 
filled lungs. 
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 
brown eyes
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

Details | Rhyme |

The Vultures

How anger steams the desert sand;
Dead bodies sprawled about the land, 
Beaks tear while cacti grimly stand.

Among the dead he is alive;
Devouring one-two-three-four-five,
Another fall - ten more arrive

October 2, 2014

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2014

Details | Senryu |

In the Shadows

Man sits in shadows Darkness consumes all of him… Blackness of the crow
Russell Sivey Contest: 1 senryu any subject Sponsor: Black Eyed Susan 5/24/2013

Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Said the turkey - Murder

Said the turkey,
Please, Please, Please pardon me.
Look at how I tilt my head in plea!
Y'all are ugly fat-head Killers?
A lot of gall,
even telling God you'll are going to killing me.
You flesh eating devils.
Y'all disgust me.
 11/26/2013       © A. Juman The "said" Poet
Type In (A. Juman) For A relaxing and astonishing moment with all my POEMS

Copyright © A. Juman | Year Posted 2015

Details | Blank verse |

Tonight Winter Startled

Tonight winter startled

It came unexpectedly

Few people walked 

Below the gleam moon

Shivering beneath their fur coat

I stood trying to figure 

A black contorted portrait 

Drawed from the yellow dim lamp

On a cold brown dune

Which I stared

As they passed

Waving a friendly gesture

Greeting me with unknown tongue

Still I am naive

Longed for each nostalgic sweet sound of 

My homestead, thus this cold 

Consume my certain pause

Not far from the clustered bush

Also do heared a lone bird lark

My sigh and the whisper on that shade

Gone howling with desert breath

Copyright © Herbert Siao | Year Posted 2014

Details | Lyric |

O Beautiful Lady

Draped in blue are the moon of the skies, O beautiful lady
How can I reach you?
Possessing the seven colors of the rainbow, as you move your waist like a spinning top,
How do I hold you dearly on my arms?
You elate me with joy by caressing me, you delight me by embracing me
And in no time, you drift away from me
Beautiful lady, who gleams like a flash of lighting, who drenches us like a flood with her charm
There is no one on this earth who is not enchanted with your magic
This beautiful lady is life...and life is nothing but this lovely lady
Swinging with her happily, face any hurdles of life bravely
Revere the hug of your lady as the eternal bliss of your life. She is the moonlight descended
down for you.
Predicament in a life is a tender flower approaching, pricking the heart like a
thorn and
Life conveys the message that nothing follows you till your last
Treating yourself as a guest, step a head
Life itself is a rarest beauty of its own kind
Life is a miracle, if you start playing, it rolls down to be a ball of flowers
When you plough the fields with endurance and foster the yield, Every day is a filled with
As you place your stance strongly in the race of this life of struggle, and turn yourself into a
weapon that
aids you, Every day would be marked as a day of victory

Copyright © Ankur Mazumder | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |

The Raven and the Dove

The dark raven’s soulful flight goes singing Where an evening song bird blends in the skies Making flight into the grand wilderness Tender is the dove that goes up and flies The two birds as one entwine together But they are like two different beings The raven so dark and evil attacks While the dove, full of love, counters and sings White brightens around the darkest raven Suffocating the raven’s great powers And takes the life right out of the raven Darkness lost, dove conquers all that cowers Flying, the dove coos in joyful triumph Reaches the death of the raven below Resurrects the bird as a dove, and now They go along together as one show
Russell Sivey

Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |


Dreams of darkness
comes the black birds 
that are crying in the fields 
the birds has told so many lies 
that Dark Angel taken the home
to a place they will never forget,

Oh, little black birds 
look what you have done !
the bird see death right in the eyes
death sitting in a nest right by their side
he is the one that will take you 
to darken places 
you will have to face each place
no matter how painful it gets,

He is the one who will make you cry
day and night
he will make you feel you are almost dead
he will scare you to your last breath 
the black bird 
that stands around are hidden crowd 
Oh Black Bird
there are no way out ,

shadows of darkness is over you
that holds power over every move of you
Oh, black bird
do you feel your loneliness yet?
to you feel your emptiness
you are found and bound 
locked away in your cage 
water you will always crave ,

you will have a mirror of your ugliness 
you will have to pay for all you have done 
that kept loved ones always on the run, 
Life is a beautiful gift 
until you take that away 
Oh, black bird 
look what you have done !

you whispered lies way too many times
to keep other birds on your side 
your secrets are deadly 
and full with fears 
to all who stands so near
soon that to will despair from you
the atmosphere will no longer be at peace,

Oh, black bird
you are now caught 
you will never be free 
from darken dreams .
Poetic Judy Emery (c)

Copyright © Judy Emery | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegaic Lyric |


My heart
Like a dying nightingale,
Seaks your company,
Either in doleful silence
Of twilit evenings,
Or enfolded in joys of endless love,
Of your warm and gentle arms.

And it pipes its most beauteous song,
Into the eerie crepuscule,
Perched upon a tombstone
Waiting to hear the call from the darkness,
But it comes not.

And the little wings are folded,
Feathers dripping with rain,
Or tears pearly white,
As the solemn bird sings it’s last breath,
“If I only could hoot like an owl,
Or croak like a mighty raven
Then you would hear sorrow,
But my song, my last song,
Inspires in you a sensation of beauty.”
But you hear not the misery of my heart.

“Oh when I sing of melancholy, you see light,
When I sing of misery and solitude, you hear lush opulence,
So with my last breath I sing to you,
My mistress who sorely beguiled me,
For my life was an agony,
But I die a happy bird,
For my tears fall with rain,
And you shall wash yourself in them,
So fragments of me may stay upon you,
And you will sleep on a pillow,
Soft with the feathers of me.

“And you must hear the silent scream,
From Tanathos’ halls of eternal night,
As I pipe my songs with the dammed,
Still celebrating your name.
For eternity my love.”
And with those words of longing,
The cold, silent body fell upon the grass,
Never to be heard,

Copyright © Max Corvus | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |


Tomorrow ... will be changed all cases
More listening to birds
What say?
Perhaps to grouse 
Or was thrown insults to us
What saying?
Whenever views our blood at the Earth pigment.
With war stats


Poverty will a pause
And poor eats
They Tears volcano fullness
And others... not conceive
What Suffering
Poor’s … chosen by God


Love will prevails universe
From lowest to farthest
Love is the lowest ways of existence
Feelings created
 With human

Copyright © Abdel latif Moubarak | Year Posted 2016