Long Canary Poems
Long Canary Poems. Below are the most popular long Canary by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Canary poems by poem length and keyword.
after the umpteenth
day of rest god
messed up not
paying mind
to Adam's
naming
game
on that same exact
day of days was
created not one
but two birds
one doomed
and to be
used
in meaning not so
worthy absurdly
to become
extinct but
not from
his now
known
name but from dogs
pigs and people
not stupidity as
we all take from
history saying
the name
dodo
but the other bird that
on that day of days
later in the evening
came out so
contrary
even
more
then a canary swearing
it could speak because
this bird's tweet so
to speak from out
its beak was
not a
dog
but the mew of certainly
a positively confused
bird trying to contact
even attract his
foe a cat
so that
Adam
without a gasp or question
never asked but simply
named this bird
tip your
black
cap
a
god
never
made a
dogbird
stay silent
and stay still
you dodo Catbird
Form:
Thanks God it's Friday!
Good time was spent in natural zoo
I calmly watched some of wild animals,
Birds, cats, monkeys ,and few more.. It was fantastic show
Full-moon gray baboon retells his old,
Doing its best to catch up Funny Silia Little Crow
Sometimes smart sometimes fool
uses her best to fellow follow
Double-dealer white snake was not cool at all
Vapid Dick Nose seems sick as used to be bow
Inspector colorful bird sings once in awhile
One cat plays in cute childish ways with a cow
The sweet eyes Wolf was busy observing the cat
Dove was not in her pretty nest though
Marvelous Indian Ruby Canary sings
with her true lovely tone and colors I saw,
and some other beautiful neat birds
who are smoothly leaving their sows to grow
When my uncle bought me a gift, it was something I had to bury.
When I opened his Christmas present, I received a dead canary.
He put it in a cage and wrapped it on the first day of December.
Feeding and watering it was what the idiot failed to remember.
Cussing and yelling was what my neighbors heard.
When I receive a present, I don't want a dead bird.
When I yelled and cussed, my uncle said that I wasn't showing gratitude.
But when I receive a dead pet for a present, it tends to put me in a bad mood.
My uncle is so dumb that I'm ashamed to admit that we're related.
He was actually surprised when his present was something I hated.
My uncle would win the Nobel Prize if the prize could be for people who are dumb.
He actually suggested that I take the dead bird to the pet store and ask for a refund.
When it comes to dealing with my uncle, my patience is wearing thin.
And I don't ever want to receive a Christmas present from him again.
,
"The Fleeced made Golden"
That bluebird in my heart
paints a different tune;
the Sun-tainted canary is set free
amongst the murderous crows,
a test to light scarlet matches
in the refined golden air
the flock poetically breathes in,
much purer than black sheep,
who continually march against the flow,
watched on by the immersed, those ...
hungry wolves, smiling like hidden kings
forever fleeced like lambs in sheep clothes
Candide Diderot. ‘25
“You can think clearly, only with your clothes on.”
Margaret Attwood
“Nature is to zoos as God is to churches.”
Margaret Attwood
“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I took the one most travelled by. It was littered with corpses, as such roads are. But as you will have noticed, my own corpse is not among them.”
Margaret Attwood
sheep, wolves,
bluebirds, canaries.
To our son Kartikeya
Another birthday crowns, dear son, though far you stay,
With love beside you now in life’s new way,
We celebrate you here with smiling tears,
And send our prayers across the seas today.
The house still echoes with your laughter bright,
Your memories linger softly every night,
Though distance keeps your cherished face afar,
Our hearts embrace you closely in their light.
Now married, may your journey bloom with grace,
With endless joy and peace your home embrace,
May every step together shine with love,
And happiness forever fill your space.
So on this day, our blessings gently soar,
Across the oceans to Canary Wharf’s distant shore,
Know that son, you are our greatest joy,
Loved deeply now and always evermore.
May 30,2026
© Dr Upma A. Sharma
I’ve long since been gone but now I wish to return, if you’ll let me. I was down the thorny path, in the woodchipper, stuck in time, dancing into deed. It’s no match, a man with a curse vs a man with a heart. Its ten to zero, ones not even fighting. We’ve seen the underbelly of the storm cloud, flashing with scowling bolts of canary yellow. Cried onto the flat pale of the earth. So that the ponds and lakes filled like eyes trying to sting away tears. Mothers and fathers have seen tougher times. You’ve toughed out the times, but I've looked the other way. I still want to hold you until the mourning doves set the stage for the sun. We can watch a movie together and forget that it’s on. There will be peace. When it’s all said and done there won’t even be a hatchet.
Sundial numerals illuminate
Knowing noon narrow shadow arrow strikes
Flicks ‘round corners of maze elaborate
Heraldic daffodil, dormant out psychs
Lion, amber assured stride resolute
Teams beside mine, admires canter cloud bounce
Trembled meshing manes make brushstrokes astute
Abstract turns apparent, rewound amounts
Labyrinth lane secures our fears slumbering
Canary chortle performs audacious
Honey wine celebrates when Summer brings
Walls torched in lofty laughing blazes
Flung flaxen, fertile wheat fields’ wispy waltz
Scorched xanthe seeds multiply dream results
24th July
Yellow Leo
Atomic Canary
Angels seed
The death bell tolls to the masses
Putin ill be your dog
Netanyaho ill be your dog
I love this land
This is where I want yo die
Sing a song
Soul from the Earth
All of us tresspass
Some other country wants your ass
Not direct assimilate
You out on a street leaving your home
Lay down your arms
Leave torture to horror shows and horror shoes
A Cruel subjugation to remain
No name Generals
Agressive canaries
I saw angels renegation
Turn your water on
War be a boring
So make some tea
Innocence of a god prayer word
The innocence of a crime
Defeat me arches back back back
Disposing substance OG
Evil tourists
Fake rich
All in the way
We take your one life away
So much truth in homeless
Cherished mansion
A surreal prosperity
A tattered shack
In front of my fireplace
I read a book
Its not Captain Hook
It's time to see what is
One life and what we give and what we take
Who decides
Our fate
Pardon ma'am, but I noticed you've been staring at this painting for a while
She is beautiful but has such a melancholy face, it's hard to look away
Her name is Veronique and that's me behind her, the little canary
She's been my sorrowful mistress now for almost two hundred years
When the artist painted her she was wearing a subtle smile but then
Gabriel told her he had to leave for a fortnight and promised to return
He vowed to finish this canvas, painting her smile back on again
but thousands of fortnights and volumes of her tears have come and gone
no sign of Gabriel, so my Lady sits and stares wistfully, remembering him
She touches the bow of her violin but hasn't played since the day he left
I hear her weep late at night when she reads the poem he left for her
The edges of the page are torn and tattered, tear stained parchment
but Veronique reads it night after night then holds it against her heart
He wrote in extravagant hand the words, now on yellowed page:
Thou fill'st my heart with love
More than any winged birds
Could fill the heavens above
Thou art the chalice of my soul
The cup from which I drink
My warmth when I grow cold
Thou art nectar of my desire
Thou art the spark of my fire
Those are words any fair maiden would swoon to have written for her
She still holds hope that her Gabriel will return but I worry about her
She keeps repeating the words he wrote on the back of this painting:
My Veronique ~
Goddess with cinnabar tresses in green velvet dresses
I've told you her name and mine is Cyros. May I ask yours?
A subtle smile crossed her lips, her skin pale and wrinkled with age
This lovely woman with touches of cinnabar in her grayed tresses
Stood with charm and grace. She curtsied in her green velvet dress
In whispered voice said, "Cyros, I am Madame Veronique Rossetti"
Painting: Veronica Veronese Artist: Dante Gabriel Rossetti
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
6th of May, 2016 Within A Gilded Frame Contest
Sponsored by: Broken Wings
The lawyer hopes,
you get arrested.
The disease hopes,
you become Infected.
The doctor hopes,
you become ill.
He supplies you with the
pharmacy pill.
The police hope you're
a criminal.
The diet hopes you,
don’t do nutritional.
The landlord hopes,
you never buy a house.
The pervert hopes,
to stare down Your blouse.
The whore hopes
you never marry.
The D.A. hopes,
you sing like a canary.
The dentist hopes,
your teeth decay.
Your parents hope,
that you obey.
The mechanic hopes,
your car breaks down.
The overweight person hopes
to shed a pound.
The undertaker hopes,
you're almost dead.
Covid-19 hopes
to infect and spread.
The plumber hopes,
your sinks clog.
You hope your prince,
is not a frog.
The teacher hopes,
you can't learn.
This is the way,
the wheel turns.
Turbo1904?