Best The Crane Poems
God knows I'm a country girl,
and wouldn't trade it for nothin' in this world.
Long brown hair and big brown eyes,
I'll take you on an exciting ride,
to the big beautiful countryside.
Get ready to hang on tight.
Gonna give you the ride of your life.
Hair whippin' wild in the wind,
hangin' out with my country friends.
This is where the fun begins.
Raised up on fried chicken and red beans,
sporting my tight fittin' jeans.
God knows I'm a country girl,
and wouldn't trade it for nothin' in this world.
We can sit on the front porch swing,
maybe sing or even daydream.
Gonna have a mighty fine time,
sippin' on that strawberry wine.
Gonna live a mighty long time,
on this beautiful countryside.
Boy, I hope you enjoy the ride with me,
maybe we'll go fishing or even swimming,
watch the crane spread it's wings.
Ducks gathering on the big wide open pond,
lovebirds making a bond.
Yes, God knows I'm a country girl.
There is one last thing I have to say.
Barefoot and fancy free,
plain as the big outdoors I will be.
Why don't you take a ride with me?
Let me show you the big fine country.
Little Blue Bird of rain.
Rain, rain go away
Little Blue Bird of Rain, needs to shine again
In her version the sun dried, up all her tears
Leaving hurtful rain inside the bird
Destructive past sudden cheers
Waking up to empty words
When abandoned by her peers
Just not knowing what had just occurred
Drowning herself in a life of Jane Doe.
Never know who she really is
When all she loves hanging her lowest moment
The rain brought out Mary-Jane.
As the bird lost its glow.
The rain tricked her once to use Cocaine.
As her feathers met that one Joe.
He broke her wing and brought more Rain.
Very young, very sweet.
Living her life in the fast lane.
Hard for her to stand on her feet.
Balanced her life on one leg, like the crane.
Curtains hang over her wings.
While she let no one near her domain.
While she flies through the heavy rain.
She finds her comfort with a pen.
Using the lords name in vain.
Cursing all her backstabbing friends
With no one around to explain?
All the sorrow left her on a railroad track.
Ending up like the runaway train.
Only she can get her life back.
If for myself I ever felt pain?
I felt more pain at what she wrote about.
In my face on my left side
Your poetry comes to life in my head.
Visions of her wanting to be dead.
Oh! How I wish this life she did not dread.
You hide the tears you shed so well.
A life with balls you cut the chains.
You diss, Your parents to go to hell.
Little Blue Bird of Rain, don't let them fools drive you insane.
Little Blue Bird of Rain.
If a sparrow could show you,
There is more to life than pain.
Under the umbrella, the sparrow would cover you.
No one wants to see her colors drain.
What a world to master her feathers into art.
The gift of words runs through her vein
The paintings on her wall.
A dream of a bad seed of grain.
One day our Little Blue Bird will stand tall.
To free herself from all the Rain.
To: Rain aka- Joy Loveless
Our sweet 16-year-old
P.D. 1-1-10
Black-headed flowers wear long drooping ruffled petal skirts.
A black crane, statuesque, stands in the tall green grass amongst them.
The tallest flower - distinctively blonde - has arms to touch the crane!
standing on one leg
the crane trusts in good fortune ---
fate of fish fizzles
Not advertising that flippant flick. I just want to know
where my blooming flivver is. It ruffles my feathers no
end to find out, when exiting the embassy,
that my buggy's whereabouts are a mystery.
I must meet Sherry 'cause her right toe
wants a sweet kiss. Did the camel tow
my car? That blasted mammal! Sherry's dear
foot can't wait! Please do not tell me the deer
took my buggy! That son of a Witch
would fine
me with a very pricey mulct which
isn't fine!
Not another loathsome tax
to put up with! Oh no, Lord, please!
I beg thou hearken to my pleas!
Now, let's come down to tin tacks.
I need my bloody car! A choice bass
cooked by Sherry awaits me. The crass
specimen who's got my car is so base,
and I'm so cross! The camel has a bass
voice that creeps me out! I do not want to
deal with him. I cannot even stomach two
secs the sight of the deer. He's ugly too.
II.
On returning to his flat, mad as a goat,
Ivo found on the door, the following note:
Dear Ivo,
I hereby inform you that your awfully and
illegally parked streetcar has been impounded.
Come pick it up at the City Hall and
bring cash with you for there's a fine. 8 hundred
clams.
Much love,
The Crane from Ukraine.
Blimey! That heartless crane! I won't give her a buck!
Now I know the ruffians weren't the camel and the buck.
Well, let's be fair, it wouldn't be cricket to pass the buck.
I didn't park properly. It's my fault. That's it. I will not buck
at the fine.
III.
I got my car back for free. How? l told the crane;
"I'm in a hurry to meet Sherry who needs me to canoodle
her feet. I'll have tonight for dinner a bass fish with noodles."
"If a foot massage like the ones I used to get in Ukraine.
you give me, I will be happy to call off the mulct." said she.
I pleased her feet very much. She loved it. Then we got some tea.
IV.
I'm on my way home to eat some bass,
with my beloved and awesome lass.
It's so nice to be able to dine
without having paid that gruesome fine.
one day the flightless peacock
got a message from above
and when it filled his heart
he gave the message to a dove
when he received it he knew it was true
this was something special
and to all the world it should be flew
the dove gave it to a crane
and the crane gave it to a duck
which went south for the winter
where the message was also brought
but then the dragon got word
and he didn't like it at all
he flew around the world
saying the message was false
but all the birds knew it
and the woodpecker too
the message of God's love
is very, very true
(This goes with a presentation of origami birds and a dragon that can flap their wings.)
I feel I must put this experience out there.
This took place about ten years ago in my room while meditating.
(Whilst in a trance-like state) I looked up facing the sunrise through a great trilithon, I was at Stonehenge. As I walked through the huge trilithon, I turned my head back to see a great Owl perched on top of the archway I just came through. Which I found quite odd, considering that I have no affiliation with them. Then turning back to the right of me I could see my spirit Wolf pacing nervously outside another great trilithon staring directly at me.
Turning now to the near centre, a hooded black cloaked figure appeared to emerge from a green fire in the centre.
All I could see of his face was his old grey chin. But what happened next astounded me. Telepathically, I spoke directly into his mind saying, "what do you want?" He laughed replying, (into my head) "is not the question what do you want?" Then I laughed saying, "I want to be the best Shaman I can be." With that, he drew up his right arm, palm down holding something. So I, in turn, placed out my right-hand palm up and he placed a little leather pouch in it. systematically, I raised my hand up to my heart and the bag went in. I thanked him and turned around and left. Never did catch his name or meet him again. But I now carry the Crane-Bag.
Update: since this experience, I have recently developed AF, (atrial fibrillation) so make of that what you will. But I still maintain that my heart is good.
Also, found out later that The green Flame is the Flame of balance and Truth. It leads to analysis and development of ideas, especially Divine ideas and impulses that have been conceived in the First Ray of the Blue Flame. Those ideas ultimately and inevitably produce wisdom and light.
Second update: funny, now after an ablation my heart is fine.
Now I know for sure that he was looking out for me.
I know the Bear.
watcher, courage
unpredict(ability)
I know the Snake.
wisdom of initiation
I know the Wolf.
I know a pack of 'em.
loyalty, intuition
I know the Spider,
though I pretend
I don't.
shadows, communication
I know the Owl,
or, I pretend
I do.
insight, clairvoyance
I even know the Fox.
(I may be the Fox.)
cunning, hidden
messenger
I know the Bobcat, the Alligator.
patience, revenge
and other far-off
Beings, lost to this
space, but not lost
on me, not lost to me.
I know the Bat.
secrets, longevity
I know the Cougar.
So well that I call her,
not by her first name but,
the First Peoples' names:
I call her Catamount/Painter/Puma/
I call her Panther/Mountain Screamer/
I call her Amigo da Onça
foresight, leadership
silence, patience
I know the Coyote, the Crane.
ingenuity and folly; vigilance and independence
I know the Heron, the Lynx.
self-reliance, balance
guardian, listener, guide
And each of these,
each Medicine
each is prayed for
and each preys on
each arrives from
some inchoate world
(land? sky?)
beyond all sight.
An answered wish,
a plea,
a demand.
And each, a predator.
One who wrings life
from flesh
that it might deliver its
song, its dance of Medicine
to one so foolish as
me.
and yet the Hawk,
I see today,
though predator,
is the Medicine of
Solitude.
Near enough,
Far enough.
Alone enough,
apart enough.
a lone Alone.
Hawk
Arc
Lofted.
Lifted.
Hawk.
Medicine.
Alone among...
Denadagohvyu
BORROW MY FINGERS’ VOICE
. . . . .` ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ . . . . .
could you, Monet...borrow my fingers’ voice
as my desire runs through your pastel bones?
and in your artist’s blood i mix...by choice
the oiled smudge of me in these dusking tones
through joys and moans, is there time to rejoice,
to sketch love’s hand, though inks plummet as stones?
on canvas, a trace of me will remain
i am the sky, the elements, the crane
ottava rima
all rights reserved
©
--for Brian Strand’s Any 2,4,6 or 8line form—
-- by nette onclaud
If I should find a Butterfly,
Neath the Willow tree,
I’d recall how she’d been an ugly bug,
But now a wondrous, sight to see.
If I could talk to a Dragonfly,
Hovering by the water spring,
We’d talk of flight so graceful,
and life, on gossamer wing.
If I look upon the Crane fly,
Attracted by the light,
His giant wings are flapping,
In a transient, short-lived fight.
If I might walk with a Firefly,
In the twilight time of day,
This tiny insect with belly aglow,
Will help, to light my way.
If I sat down with the Mayfly,
As she skims the river flow,
Applaud her airborne gymnastics,
While life all around, moves slow.
If I should see the Damselfly,
Resting on a leaf by a pond,
I’d remark at his long red body,
At one, with nature and their bond
The calls of the flocks to this years migration
a roving community of birds in each nation
rising and diving above mists in the rocks
the drawing together for birthing new flocks
The coo of the crane in a wetland bog
the bob of its head when its nabbed a frog
opened winged geese in passages soar
north back to south or a western shore
Above our earth the traversing vast miles
into the snowfall or cliffside defiles
a race upon water to lure this years mate
or share in the catch a dance woven like date
Such grace of movement their wings on the breeze
like rhythms beating to ascend above trees
how can one capture such beauty so grand
of a creatures decent upon sky upon land
Motion so elegant their journey's in sky
mankinds observations our own desire to fly
the form of their pinions upon outstreched wings
to follow freedom this kind of life dreams
Lowlands or Highlands the wild fowl domains
in deserts or plateaus aviary terrains
on pole ice or islands you'll find their rests
every year you'll find them their community nests
COPYRIGHT © 2012 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Long necked
with legs like ruby stilts
the crane lifts it wings
to it's side
and dances with little strides
It bobs and hops:
a skipping rope with feathers
then lowers it's wings
to gauge the effect.
Almost like the wind is a critic
It finds a mate.
The Hen
Goes cluck cluck cluck
Then comes the Crane
Selling his D refrain
Hen react
The web is cobbled
The spiders finished their jobs
Out come the flies
Nature, tried to defy
He recant
Cyanide kills all the living
Chemical dreams
Make the sane ones scream
Life moves on
Then care no more
As they live in poetic illusions
Or so it seems...
Be of good cheer
Global Warming
Forever here
Touching the ground
Sea Waters a rising all around
Don't look back
As your Neighborhood begins to crack
Mother Nature is drowning
We cannot escape that inevitable fact
Someone so fair
likes to burn your children's hair
he can't help but laugh
At the damage being done down there
Paulie wants a cracker
before flying away ever after
and then the crane will start storming
unleashing the hail of global warming
Beaten down by the torns of war
Destroyed to the soul
With reopened sours
With the eyes that bitterly pours
With the broken n deserted
Let us raise the silent voice of our
souls
And say;
We Shall Move On!!!
Whatever we lost to the war
Whatever horror we saw
Let that eyes close
Let a tear wash them all away
For ;
We Shall Move On!!!
Even when the war has left us cold
n lonely
Bitterly mourning,
Even when we find no better abode
Let us look above,
Like a fighter n say;
We Shall Move On!!!
Let our sorrows n pains
Drown with the rain
Let our losses go with the crane
For ;
We Shall Move On!!!
Even we,destroyed by the bullets
of our ignorance
Nd blinded by the fingers of our
affection
Let us rise like the morning sun
With its never quenching fire,
N shout ;
We Shall Move On!!!!!