Best Parrot Poems
A parrot sits on my shoulder.
Unlike those that squawk, mine tends to whine.
When she is in the mood,
she moans and moans and moans.
No Polly-Anna Parrot is this one!
My pain she keeps repeating,
and hearing of it hinders me from being
more completely sympathetic to the pain
of others in my life.
As she dribbles cracker crumbs of pessimissm
from her annoying and ugly noxious beak,
it’s so difficult to pluck her from my ear.
Alas! I’m hearing the sound of my own voice,
for ‘tis I - who taught her how to speak.
Jan. 20, 2019 for
Maureen McGreavy's Plucking the Poisonous Parrot Contest
The day you brought me a Bird of Paradise,
a rare flower which imbibed sun’s blushing orange glow,
and aquamarine blue from ocean’s bosom,
erased the excruciating pains of our separation
unfolding a symphony of colours,
stayed and comforted me since then
with satiny softness.
The ebullient orange and blue petals
with a tint of olive-green from the depth of the sea,
where a dreamy mermaid weaves her crimson love...
remind me of our tender days together
with unrestrained laughter and pure joy.
the blue elegant boat-like bract brings
the memory of our doting parrot -
lingering lilac memory she left...
As if she left the glistening colours of her wings
on the slender petals....
for me to gaze at the graceful beauty,
so all the sorrows, all the sadnesses
magically heal and evaporate.
I bought a parrot but he has a foul mouth.
I let him loose so that he could fly South.
But he came home again.
This proves that I can't win.
He says the F word two hundred times a day.
He offends everybody and drives them away.
Nobody will take this bird even though I offer to pay them.
I'm going out of my mind, it looks like I'm stuck with him.
I have the only parrot on Earth that's a sinner.
If he doesn't shut up, he's going to be my dinner.
(This is a fictional poem)
oh there is this voice in my head that echoes
sometimes whispering venomous, poison insults
and at times screaming negativity... grasping my heart
twisting my spirit to tatters and ruin
a parrot mimic, chattering in the dark corridors
of my mind, hiding in all my inner private spaces
plucking and yanking, killing my tranquility
STOP your endless speaking and your crippling malice
I cry, for there is another voice murmuring
a voice softer but much stronger
this voice is courage and will nullify your condemning
in the hush-hush of night I must listen to both voices
and my insides are aching . . this is what I have to say noxious voice
I wish to be an eagle flying high and not a parrot caged in my mind . . .
______________________________
January 13, 2019
Poetry/Free Verse/The Poisonous Parrot
Copyright Protected, ID 19- 1104-553-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Plucking The Poisonous Parrot
sponsor, Maureen McGreavy
Third Place
The poison parrot is repulsed by me, hates my art, laughs at my poems.
sneers when I enter my imaginary world, pokes fun at it.
She throws roadblocks into my mood zone,
destroys my great ideas as fast as they enter my dendrite alley.
You think you are something! Ha! She laughs. You are less than nothing.
No one will like that. It is too sassy, too bright, too snotty, too tall, too snarly.
She snips away at me, chopping little pieces off, as I try not to cry.
You are an idiot! She yells at me, her favorite pastime.
Poison Parrot managed to hold me down, away from myself, for years.
She held me hostage in a prison I helped her build; I cowered in a scared way.
Until I met Savior Boy. Savior Boy did not know about Poison Parrot, for when
I was around him, I was confident, witty, sassy, fun,
out-going and memorably lovely.
He let me do his homework, and he received good grades,
praising me to high heaven.
The closer we became. the more self-assured I became,
assertive genius oozed out of me.
Poison Parrot was fearful now, she saw she was losing her grip.
She began yelling louder than ever.
“You are an idiot! You are worthless! You are a loser!”
I stopped hearing her. Savior Boy’s love and respect helped me
to clip her wings, and tape her beak.
By the time our children arrived, I had re-invented my self-talk.
I was now being talked to by Sophie,
a dynamic, self-assured, marvelous pixie queen who
believed in herself, and everyone else.
I released Poison Parrot and let her limp away,
saving no face at all, after Sophie arrived.
Plucking the Poison Parrot Number 156
Written: 1-6-2019 Sponsor: Maureen McGreavy
Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these ‘it might have been’—John Greenleaf Whittier
without deep regret
apologetic parrot ~
squawks m
i n d racked a
n
g
u i s h
Draped in blooming green,
Colored with a rosy beak,
Blessed with wings free as air,
With crazy dreams of naughty playfulness,
A carefree young parrot I am,
Taking refuge in prospering wilderness.
The forest is my abode,
Never failing to amaze me with its overflowing abundance,
Where rich tress grow in ample,
Gifted with content flowers and melodious fruits
And where birds and animals turn on the mysterious charm,
Letting creative forces smile gently.
The sky is my best friend,
Who embraces me with tenderness.
Our souls have merged into one,
She treats me as her child,
I have slowly grown familiar with her,
Experiencing ecstatic aliveness in her presence.
Woven with the shine of the caring sun,
Along with my fellow parrots
I soar high in the sky,
Taking the form of a military group
We encircle the horizon
With deep sincerity.
I frequently visit vineyards,
Where vines are laden with overgrown grapes and strawberries.
They kiss the earth in gratitude,
Rejoicing at her homely delight.
I feast on these juicy fruits
Like a new born prince.
At Night time I stay still in my nest
And keep staring at the bright stars.
At that moment I am reminded of something,
Dreams of naughty playfulness come running to me
And start mingling with me making me jump out of sheer joy.
Yes I do feel like a carefree young parrot then.
With each passing day I am born again,
Providing me the strength to become more carefree.
Freedom is welcoming me with grace,
Encouraging me to be loving,
Helping me to be myself
And I have decided to dance through the tune of life.
A beautiful creature of god,
If trained can talk,
And likes to eat red chilli from its red mouth.
Green in colour,
And have very small eyes like tiny buttons.
When sleeps,turned like a ball,
And get up with a loud scream.
My favourite chilli eater,
I love it alot.
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Parrot said to crow……
You are black in colour
Your voice is hoarse
People drive you away
You are unwelcome everywhere
You live on rotten food
Look, I live in golden palace
I am served with nuts and fruits
I whistle and make sweet notes
And I am loved for my feathers
I live good life unlike yours.
Crow replied……..
I agree, my colour is black,
I agree, I don’t have sweet voice,
I agree, people drive me away
I agree, you live a good life.
Served with nuts and fruits
Still I am better than you
You live in cage and I have full freedom
With all good feathers
You can’t enjoy all weathers
You eat what is served,
You live in cage and die in cage
I live with all freedom.
Poppy the parrot
Picked pus from a pimple’s peak
but then Poppy pricked Poe’s pajama pole
Patrolman Pat picked Poppy up by his beak
Prisoned Poppy pleads for parole
and pecks popcorn and crumbs all week
There was a pirate whose parrot could talk
What happened to it was such a big shock
At the captain it swore
Poor old thing seen no more
Aaargh! Down the plank he forced it to walk
A pirate had a parrot cos the pirate couldn’t speak
You couldn't trust a word that came out of the parrot’s beak
He said he knew where there was gold and had a map to read
We found it and we dug it up but all we found was seed
The pirate started pointing but he couldn’t make a sound
It seemed he wanted us to dig down further in the ground
We dug some more and found a tongue (the parrot shouted ‘EEK!’)
The pirate popped it in his mouth and once again could speak
The treasure’s buried over there under a turtle shell
I’m gonna share it with you for I’m glad that I can tell
We hid the parrot’s seed here as a pirate song we sung
And then to keep his secret he bit off my pirate tongue
Parrots are beautiful
Rainbows flying in the sky
They are amazing!
once a parrot named kevin
wanted to fly to heaven
so he flew and flew
but when out of view
was forced to land in akron.
Come in disguise, the invite read
Feast our eyes, allow us to guess
Dress in truthful lies, was what it said
Like a queen in chess, whose off with their head!
Prizes awarded for the best dressed
Whoevers costume most impressed
We've got Batman and Joker
Lion-O and Mummra
We have Tom and also Jerry
with Catwoman played by Halle Berry
Wearing the mask off of Jim Carrey
Alice is hear, she looks so grand
The MadHatter too, he's never bland
Someone's even dressed as a foetus
bet they thought that would beat us
I am naked with a girl on my back
for that idea I took some flack
But I felt it'd do ever so well
I am a snail and this is Michelle
Over there's a man dressed as cheese
chatting up girls who like bries
I jump over two men clothed as sheep
Who beg my return cos they're trying to sleep
A quick chat with Bob Marley
and see a scooter dressed as a Harley
Even has the handlebars from Salvador Dali.
Please don't get too depressed
poor losers and all the rest
look at Joe, he did best
put the effort in and passed the test
don't use his sash as a garrot
he looks great as a carrot
fancily dressed as a parrot!
©John-Ovan.P.Hull