Best Chirp Poems
The Tricky Chirp
The nester bird comes to live,
in a nest, they did not make.
Yet... the bird,
feels right at home
and not alone at all.
The new mom seems surprised,
she can not hide it from
her eyes,
but she continues on
like any mother would.
The brand new baby is larger than the rest.
Taking all the best, and putting the whole nest to the test.
The sad secret of this new life,
this mock, "not my son" from afar...
The more you give, the more they take.
It is a bad-tasting cake.
The dark star is par for the course... and now the jar is empty.
There is no more left for those that belong,
and that is all wrong.
Eating the food, drinking the wine,
and telling the time...
to whom ever walks by
they said hi,
and not high,
or how high?
The mother bird continues,
wondering where father
has gone?
nighttime crickets chirp
in a warm summer evening
loudly making call
Russell Sivey
A little bird sits on a branch
Singing
He is happy
Just like me
Tweet tweet, chirp chirp
I like the song
It makes me smile
The little bird flicks his tail
Prepares his wings to fly
He nods his head
To say goodbye
Fly little chirp fly
I wish I was that little bird
Free to fly
Free
The world beckons
I listen with my precious eyes alert
Spring now on my mind - I hear you chirp
Each new born day - the ears they chime
Another day of joy it brings - birds she sings
I wake - I breathe the morning air
I seek the beat of each note with care
And speaking out - I enjoy my tunes
Endeavoring the outside - I wander through
Life- speculating - I too see
The robins- they glow - singing to me
Still - I'm listening - with the sun beaming bright
I am astounded - chirp- chirp - chirp
Musta been you - musta been me woken today
And I sit smelling the roses with the birds flying about
They blossom in my heart - my day a new start
Today I listen - today I wake - today I see
Opportunity really surrounding thus - me
I climb the mountains - I cross the bridges
I overcome calamity - I feel the wind
On ,my face , the breeze - It never ceases to amaze me
Chirp - chirp- chirp - still musta been you awakening thee
I listen it's like music to my ears
I see spring - my breath - it overwhelms me
And my roses that I love - a gift from God up above
Enlighten me! I am this in love with the birds
Singing in my ears - shedding tunes to time
If only life would keep blessing my day
And the roses as they bloom - I really adore you
I 'm going to tell it to the whole wide world - I love you
You fly into my life - you flourish me with blossoms
I wake - I listen evermore - blessed
I am tuned - I listen - I see visions in my head
With God I wake - loving the chirp in spring instead
And now that I found this beauty - I listen
And smell the roses in my mind- I find
That the notes I listen to they glisten
Yet too the birds bring beauty to the soul
Appreciating God's beauteous eyes on thee
No weeping sorrow - I am with glee...
A chirp before dawn.
The morning chanting of the natural orchestra
announces a new day.
The dogs are banned from fields of green
lest anyone should “step in it”
yet 50 geese just landed there
and no one tells them where to “..it”
Masked bandits prowl the streets at night
trash can clamor in the alleyways
making their rounds on scheduled trips
coinciding with trash collection days.
Dawn’s silent rise cues “Places please”
dark curtain rising on a dissonant din
Daybreak’s un-tuned opening - wings without wind
scratching open eyelids that can’t close again.
Beneath soft silent moon – a courting joust
that sad horrific sound – a lover’s spat
a noise to make an air raid siren cringe
the hissing contest - suitors of my cat.
Lo, the glistening distance of train track
reflecting the history that they bore
reminds me that the four thirteen Topeka
lies beside me in a locomotive snore.
©5/6/2018
submitted to – A Rant – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Shadow Hamilton
With these winds of July ever sweeping the earth,
How should I follow the footprints of men that believed that no man shall auction another?
... Here, dawns are graceless, birds are no longer early to chirp peace.
There is a mist of desolation befalling, even the blind see it,
There are solemn cries down the woods even the deaf are sickening.
... Do you know that, south of Zambia’s capital,
Thirsty thousand stomachs live in the barren womb of the Zambezi valley,
Nothing grows but seasonal wild fruits
And grasses few to suffice our cattle and donkeys.
A lifetime's fishing among crocodiles, hippos and other river-monsters of the Kariba
shows on bodies of men from head to toe;
Our women’s hearts for survival fate them to gut what’s of our toil,
That's how some of us have come to read and write.
Yet his belly has risen much like dough
Only to start sagging like thuggery pants;
Four years it is since his eyes last saw his belly-button
And word from the capital of his intended visit is said with tears.
Greed and greed are virtues of African leadership,
With promises only vials of black ink in a mansion of white curtains.
Power can sometimes be as coarse as file and erode man's soundness,
Only when the ant-hill is fresh is his wisdom next to whom that created him.
... Men of my country are capable of redeeming this otherwise proud nation
But our leaders see us for chickens and dogs,
Tossing grain at political rallies and swaying us into dog fights…
Barking and champing at our own kindred, bembas and tongas alike
While our kids like wind grasses in a country wind
sing praises of insolent might only to burn in the wild fire.
Where is that pride of free men standing under the sun of our land?
Where is that sovereignty our forefathers surrounded their groins for?
A soul borne to years of pitiable living has no choices, has no will to call its own.
… True authority is like a shell of a tortoise;
Rough on the outside yet smoother than a kitten’s meow on the inside,
Doubt not, people like me believe zambia shall eat from the same plate again.
07/02/18
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
The birds chirp.
The sounds of a bird symphony.
In moments of quiet, their sound is that of angels for the animal world.
In moments of angst, it’s the sound of a noisy rhythmic annoyance.
The birds chirp.
It’s their discussion of goings on, past happenings, future plans.
Perhaps it’s their way of payback, balancing our noisy chatter for theirs.
The birds chirp.
If you listen closely, it seems you could almost understand them.
They may be telling us the future winning numbers.
They may just be laughing at us.
Either way, to me, their sound is like listening to a baby’s cry for its mother. Or a dog calling for its owner.
It’s an expression of connection to the recipient.
Listen to….the birds chirp.
human hunger be...just
'a pull' on a tree for...an
apple to eat
and birdseed hunger be...as
a pileate woodpecker and...the
'pile he ate' of the seed
just then it's mate sounded...and
'a peal' rang out in the trees...an
appeal for more seed to store
the pileate listened briefly and...it's
pulls on the suet-feed went faster...a
'pulse' had gone through its manner
stan sand
It is early morning, and it is quiet, too quiet.
The rambunctious bird won't even utter a chirp.
Once resoundingly loud, her voice like a siren,
Now you're lucky to find her softly humming at all.
Once seeking passion, the bird now searches for silence,
In hopes, the trees and leaves will drown out her absence of sound.
A false hummingbird, she masquerades in muted tones,
Her once vibrant voice reduced to vibrations.
Perhaps she flew too close to the sun, as this songbird lost her song,
Her nostalgic melodies traded for the flap of her wing,
as she was already gone.
The Sparrow spread her wings
Before the chick could blink
The Sparrow spread her wings
Rain pours she's on the brink
Flying through hazy clouds
Before the chick could blink
She spots us on the ground
Swinging in our four arms
Before the chick could blink
We set off the alarms
Only the Sparrow saw
Swinging in our four arms
Under her tree we talked
Words I shouldn't have said
Only the Sparrow saw
Chirping as you walked off
The Sparrow spread her wings
I saw her as she wafts
The Sparrow spread her wings
The nights were short,
A clear summer, long and hot,
A chickadee visited every dawn,
And caught a stunning view by the pane.
Maybe my nest’s walls knew,
A fluffy gray-black chick who...
Lit the sun pointed to my nest house...
Captured my morning drowse.
A courageous little skylark,
With a notorious chirp crack,
She repeatedly taps my pane,
And sharply beeps, in rhythmic strain.
Pulled from beloved slumber, I scan who,
Through my drowsy eyes, I view...
The vivid rattle, truly, she’s a great dancer,
My ears almost paralyzed by the clatter.
Through the solid unglazed pane its clear,
The morning breeze powers the air,
The lovely melody alarms my doze...
Tirelessly, she airs her pose.
The shrill stole my focus,
A lone owls’ hoot – a secret in the sunrise,
The arduous tweet feels counterfeit,
But the unfolding truth won’t lie or cheat.
hear a chirp a chant
a child and a bird i sight
ecstasy, rapture
In the middle of the night
In the middle of a sleep
I was woken up
By a chirping beep.
Each assertive peep
Grated on my brain.
If it kept it up
I would go insane.
We knew what it was –
Meant to stave off harm
‘Twas the battery
From the smoke alarm.
When the 9 volt dies
It announces such
With annoying chirps
No one likes too much.
So my spouse got up,
Made the beeping cease.
If a fire broke out,
Least we’d die in peace.
Chirp chirp
the sparrow let out
Hiding in bushes
so hard to see
But if I
were a worm
Or bug
of his choice
I am sure
I would spy him
Beyond all the noise
Quiet now
he must see me
Human I am
no fly or bee
Chirp chirp
the sparrow let out
Flying away
from curiosity
Shame on me
I got to close
Interrupting his hunt
with my big nose