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 | 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 | Monoku |

Two Birds

The Tao stares at its reflection on a lake as two birds.

Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2016

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

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |


                     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

Copyright © Victoria Anderson-Throop | Year Posted 2012

Details | Personification |


Blackbirds in the sunshine (are)
Omens (that) fly high in the sky…
Solemnly seizing Martin Luther’s time (of)
Religion and precarious minds…
White men personified lost their lives (without) 
Fear or compromise…

Blackbirds in the sunshine (are)
Omens of their time (were)
Grave to Jackson’s mental denial of the Missouri Compromise…
The Confederate flag yet hangs high.
White men lives personified were of manifold (because) 
Fear or compromise was not a greater source.

Blackbirds in the sunshine (are like)
Eagles soaring high in the sky…
Solemn to Civil Rights time (while)
Ritualizing a political asylum (caused by)
Oppression and incarceration of the mind…
Transition is denied; but oh, transgression defines.
Written March 4, 2016!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

Angry Bird

I gazed up to the sky
When a wounded bird but caught my eye
She fluttered down and landed on me shoulder

Creating vast misunderstandings
Between me and others of good standing
As they all whispered behind me

Have you but heard!
He gets grumpier as he gets older
He sure has a big chirp on his shoulder

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |

''Little bird, what troubles thee''

Little bird, what troubles thee
      is it the worm in your belly
little bird, what pains thee
      is it the worm 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 His tears for you
      in the midst of your painful agony

little bird, what troubles thee
      is it the worm in your belly
little bird, what pains thee
      is it the bane of misery

Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen | Year Posted 2013

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 | 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 :

Copyright © ness tillson | Year Posted 2013

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

Copyright © Michael Smith | Year Posted 2013

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?

Copyright © steven cooke | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |

Zen Buddhist Bird

A Buddhist bird flies 
Under the eyes 
Of winter’s sun 
As I watch his flight 
Across a lonely wintry sky 
Gazing up 
At his long, long flight south 

He diverts himself 
From the chilly northern wind 
A wind 
That the sun cannot warm 

He diverts himself 
With a single thought 
As only a Zen Buddhist bird might do 
And asks 

What is the sound 
Of one wing flapping? 
"the sound of one hand clapping"...(by J. D. Salinger) Thank you Leo

Copyright © CJ Krieger | Year Posted 2011

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.

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2012

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

Copyright © Mathieu de Casanove | Year Posted 2009

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.

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |

The Worm Ate The Bird

When the worm ate the bird
and its body became big
and puffed,
we would never hear the end of it.

When the population
took over from the kings,
it became big and puffed...
Isn't this the trouble with the world?

Copyright © Julia Ward | Year Posted 2015

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

Copyright © Constantinos Grigoriadis | Year Posted 2008

Details | Couplet |


            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

Copyright © Victoria Anderson-Throop | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme |

All that Glitters is not gold.

Soaring into the air,
strafing the  clear blue skies
traversing  land and moutains high,
the eagle flies, a bird of awesome size.
 It's wings, huge bellows trapping air, 
send tiny creatures into spasms with fear.

Stooping low,  talons  drawn 
scoop  up unsuspecting prey
an innocent  hare  out to  play 
then lays its find in a nest on high
food for another day.

Birds in the air tremble and roll 
  at the flap of its mighty wings
that slice  through currents of air, 
a powerful force on course 
to  a distant  shore.

Silent like the wind that blows,
the clouds that float,
it sweeps the highs and lows
a haughtier bird we'll never know
nor witness allure so rare. 

With  feathers  of winking gems, illusive hues
teased by playful rays of the sun, 
 It streaks accross oceans deep
turning waves into defensive ones
that hope the eagle will not stay
 but continue on its merry way.

Despite it all, man can only
 stand in awe, so rare,so wondrous  a sight.
 With oohs and  ahhs he stands agape,
 transfixed by  a beauty untold
yet  remembers too the sayings of old
All that not gold.

Copyright © Margaret Okubo | Year Posted 2007

Details | Lyric |


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.

Copyright © Osman Gani | Year Posted 2012

Details | Sonnet |

All Wonders Are Free, No Admissions Price

All Wonders Are Free, No Admissions Price

Lord grant me, days in Nature's rainbow hues
Walking among wildlife, searching for clues
Thankful for these very fine hiking shoes
In splendor of morn's new risen sun
This peaceful, calming walk will be fun
Later,  short picnic before I run
To find butterflies fluttering about
In Nature's pleasing joy, no need to shout
Here waters 'aplenty never a drought
Blue lake lies just beyond Oak-tail heights
Flower banks and ducks a graceful sight
Even more beautiful seen by moonlight
Lord grant me, more years in this paradise
All wonders are free, no admissions price.

Robert J. Lindley, 12-14-2016 

Written as was promised this morn, to my dear friend and that very kind and generous poet, Peter Duggan.
With my thanks for introducing this new sonnet form in his fine poem, 
In the Hills, Of Walyunga..

Jussaume’s Sonnet created by Christina R Jussaume on August 20, 2015. 

It is a 14 line poem left justified as all other Sonnets.

It is made up of 4 Triplets and 1 Couplet
Rhyme for my Sonnet is aaa, bbb, ccc, ddd, ee
Syllable count is as follows: 10, 10, 10, 9, 9, 9, 10, 10, 10, 9, 9, 9, 10 and 10.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Couplet |

Why The Caged Bird Sings

Do you know why the caged bird sings?
 She sings because of little things;
A meal of worms, a bright blue sky,
 The sounds of freedom ever nigh.
Of simple things that set apart;
 She sings because it's in her heart.

Copyright © Ashley Lowery | Year Posted 2006

Details | Rhyme |


My Bird at the rear of bars yet again
Nay at Blue, into bosom it looks deep
Better knows the wisdom to be insane
Raptness, the solitary sort Beyond to peep.

My Bird smil’d after losing a feather
How weird to Kite, how sly to ugly owl 
Even sings in the cage amid rough weather 
My Bird, like soul it resides in the bowl.

My Bird somehow yester night broke the cage 
Into ether submitted fine hair and tail
Baffl’d to see, he had lived but in bondage
Returned Alas! liberated on the bail.

Copyright © Mushtaque Barq | Year Posted 2013

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

Copyright © Constantinos Grigoriadis | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse |

Jack's Pidgeon


Will make you do crazy things
Angry things
Turf wars for lunch
Sniper missions deployed to
Secure trace crumbs
Seminal tidbits
Feasts strewn in honor of
The scrappy mutants
Known as us
High noon
I rule
With fierce patience
Absolution, focus
Tempting my bemused audience
Of patrons I seek
To wrest the tired scraps
The waste piling up after
More satisfying bites
Are snarled, consumed
Mad dash, goes I
They amused, bewildered
Gawking "My gosh, such aggression
I've never seen from a bird"
Well, not a bird
A winged, feathered beast
You've created
Your selfish motives hindering
My flight, my plight
Dreams of us and nothing else
I, now, the scapper seek
Bristled at competing flocks
Fraught, wretched
True to their being
Held at bay by my motherly love
For the land I call home
I'm validated when
Gifts flung my way
Land at my heavenly feet
I pounce on this
Bite-sized reality
Worn salty, peppered
Frayed allegiance
Now inside
Alongside me
Now enthralled in battle
Until the sun forges
Truth onto another day.


Copyright © Suburban Lovechild | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |


Your need lingered over me, 
Demanding and squalling, 
Drowning me in your 
Chaotic desperation, 
And suffocating the memories 
We might have made. 

Though you heard, 
You would not listen 
To the pleadings 
Of long lost visions, 
Even as they danced 
Before your eyes. 

Then you mistook 
My vulnerabilities 
For weaknesses, 
And mounted your encapsulation 
With grand fortitude, 
Masquerading as love. 

My belief in you 
Was shattered 
By those bruised moments, 
Irretrievably committed 
To the dedication 
Of your definition. 

So came the day 
When your audacity 
Compelled my strength 
And I would not surrender 
To your abuse, 
Regardless of your lies. 

Now a powerful bird finds 
This place heartbreaking, 
For the soaring dignity 
That will never be -  
Because I will not allow 
My wings to be clipped.

Copyright © Pamela Davison | Year Posted 2005

Details | Free verse |


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.

Copyright © Marni Robinson | Year Posted 2005

Details | Elegy |

The Songless Bird

O, songless bird, speak thine plight to thee!
I awoke to hear thine tears in the deepest pit of thy slumber,
My songless bird, the night has stolen thine heav'nly ballad,
And given thee a life of sorrow,
Fly not away from thine hands and look not away from thy loving gaze,
I shall hear thine divine song once more,
Hear it ring! Like church bells in thine pure heart,
And shatter the torments of hell with thine perilous love,
Frost and fire, shadow and dawn, life and dream,
Only thine melodic words, gilded threads of thine shining youth,
Lips crimson with violent ardor,
Only, could pour forth the waters to cascade into the cistern of thy lust for song!

Copyright © Amanda McMullen | Year Posted 2006

Details | Blank verse |

Wild Life

The snake is venomous.
It catches and eats a mouse.    
Eagles snatch prey with a sweep.
While turtles are camouflaged in the deep.
My knee is in pain due to dodgy cartilage,
possibly because of an active life and age.

Copyright © Langlea Residents | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |

Bird Song

From a foreign land a bird sings,
its song is echoed around caves,
it reverberates off mountains,
the wind carries it on his shoulders,
the waves throw it towards shore,
it pierces the clouds like a knife,
and wafts with the chimney smoke,
it rides on the suns rays of delight,
it roars louder than a princely lion,
and whispers quieter than silence,
it falls to earth with the rain,
it soars over forests and fields,
it battles through the elusive night,
and eventually reaches my ears.

Copyright © Verity Smith | Year Posted 2010