Long Song bird Poems

Long Song bird Poems. Below are the most popular long Song bird by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Song bird poems by poem length and keyword.


Pete

Saying stuff over and over makes you think a person didn't get it, but it's just that they didn't care to get it. You said all you could say, you wrote it in a letter, sent it in a text. You dial the number, they don't answer, you wait, still no answer. No call, no reply and yo dumb self sitting wondering why. Five minutes later, you call again. You are - Pete the Repeat.

Your mind starts to wonder, you don't know what to think, all you know is yo feelings are hurt. Now because you are not reassured, you become insecure. You finally communicate and immediately begin asking the same questions from before and saying the same thing in a different manner, and with no luck, you are left alone to figure it out.
You are - Pete the Repeat.

Six months later, you are still unsure, wondering and seeking to see something that is so clearly obvious to others, but blurry to you.
You are still asking the what, where, when and whys. What did I do? Where you been? When can I see you? Why you ain't call me back? 
You are indeed - Pete the Repeat.

It's been five years, no solid relationships and none of your questions have been answered. You are still going through the same process with a different person, getting the same results. Aren't you tired of being - Pete the Repeat?

No matter what, all in all, you want this, you need this, you want to be loved. Yeah yall have great sex, but I am here to tell you, making love does not make one love. What you have is a ten percent love. And to you, that ten percent good outweighs the ninety percent bad. You deserve so much more. Why keep your standards so low? Why do you choose to settle especially when what you are settling for is not fulfilling? There is a hole, an emptiness, a void. You don't understand the process. You singing like a song bird repeating all the same words. Don't you know if you keep doing what you are doing, you'll keep getting what you are getting? You have a melt down, you shut down. The more you are thinking, you are deeply sinking. The whole situation of explaining becomes draining. But I am here to tell you, the answers you are looking for is not within someone else, it is within you.

It is time for change. You will need strength, patience, endurance and confidence. It will be hard and it will be different, but it will be worth it.
And the first change is to say good-bye to Pete.
Form: Narrative


Premium Member Remembering the Past

Remembering the Past
 
Tito is Tagalog of Uncle
Tito David Rodriguez and Tito Willie Totanes are very good friends
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Tito David recruited me to Filipino American Multimedia Entertainment (FAME) 
on the 90’s
Tito David is a Filipino model, journalist, actor in FAME
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

 Tito Willie Totanes strongly supports me
He drives me around the bay area
 Uprising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Tito David is Also a base in Anima Christi choir at St. Andrew, Daly City CA
Both of them are supporting me
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Directed by the late Mr. Jesse Pangilinan
Who passed away
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Supported with Mr. Prospero Luna
A Retired Comedian and actor in the Philippines
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Knew by my late father
Mayor Leonardo G. Mendoza
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Mayor of San Pascual, Batangas City, Philippines
Returning to FAME
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

I would sing all throughout the Bay area
Had shows 
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Sang at some Filipino gathering in SF, CA
Concert on October 11, 1998: Outrage on Stage Launching my only Song-Through the Eyes of a Child 
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Would Sing in Karaoke beer house
At restaurants and parties in the bay area
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Sang in Westlake Shopping Center in Daly City, CA
Also sang in Serramonte Mall in Daly City, CA
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Met the Asia’s Song bird of the Philippines
Ms. Regine Velasquez
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

And the Song Writer
Mr. Ogie Alcasid
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Tragic Car Accident happened
On October 11, 1999
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

The late Director Jesse Pangilinan passed away
FAME disbanded
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

As of now a client of Heart Soul’s True Hope
In North County, Daly City, California
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

God took my singing career and He changed it to Poetry
He changed it to a harder one because I have to learn poetry but I’m having fun
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza
Form: Ghazal

Song Bird Sang Soft Sweet Refrain

Song Bird Sang Soft Sweet Refrain

While we went for ride on a train in Spain,
Single song bird sang a soft, sweet refrain;
We would yearn,
One day to return;
Our soul and spirit forever there did remain.

Jim Horn

Always would make me wonder,
What below earth is down under,
And above lightening and thunder;
Having been born from a blunder;
God saved those who were put asunder.

Greet Then Desire to Meet

Many people we eventually did meet;
Each of them we had wanted to greet;
Were incorrigible,
And deplorable;
What we had read in a Trump tweet.

Trump knew Flynn had lied and most
of his supporters were losers. The rest
were loyal Republicans.

Jim Horn

Fine Poem Is Mine

Did discover each poem was forever fine,
And poets did define them as being mine;
Have been behooving,
An experience moving;
Are divine and can read while you do dine.

Chase A Mental Case Out of Office

Found incorrigible has been Trump's base;
Our President we found with an ugly face;
Had orange hair,
And hard to bare;
Out of office should chase the mental case.

To Trump Should Propose

Why anyone in right mind Trump chose,
This I personally would like to propose;
Do get rid of,
And out shove;
Lies made him grow a gargantuan nose.

The truth will make us free and free up
a lot of things.

Personally Are Petrified

With Trump we are personally petrified;
Looks like as usual he has lied and lied;
Low does stoop;
A nincompoop;
On a rail out of office force him to ride.

With Trump we surely should denounce,
And weigh all of the bull by each ounce;
Item collected,
And misdirected;
On all of his stupidity start to pounce.

By God me again He personally directed;
Check out tax returns and have inspected;
We must admit,
Is half of a wit;
So sadly Trump as prisoner was selected.

After Trump being President for short while;
On him should see what they have on file.

To God Devoted

To God I always have been devoted;
Received with honor and promoted;
I was wishing,
To go fishing;
Down river with him I have boated.

Jim Horn
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Limerick

Her Story

Sweet girl you know the world needs you more than he does

Up late, tears of joy and sorrow, satisfaction but lacking the love

Your pain is a burden I’m not willing to bare

I want to set you free, free like the black calm of a prayer

Blue skies won’t do I need the sun and the moon too

To shine light on your path, keep those red tears from following you

We all get our sunny days as well as the rain

But your rain shouldn’t come and leave a permanent stain

You said they all loved you, love-struck but never lonely

But these tattered and battered books I’m reading tell a different story

These first few pages are pristine, clean and unsullen

What happened next wasn’t acknowledged, no one’s talking no one’s telling

Now the pages get dark, the words real unclear

Even you are struggling to see what really happened here

I’m hoping with time comes clarity and washes away the dirt

But for now I’ll read this pain and this radiating hurt

A few chapters later these pages begin to lighten

From the rush of your pen I can tell you met someone you felt right with

I could hear the smile through your words, another lovesick song bird

Reaching for a little hope of a woman finding what’s hers

But despair crept in and again the pages darkened

This song bird felt sick, the love just another poison

Life’s roads are winding, full of treacherous curves

I’m sorry and I love you, those are dangerous words

Mimicking those fruitless relationships, that you picked up from home

You were ill-fated, trying to imitate a love that you were never shown

The pages only get darker, the thoughts more shattered

Convinced that they would keep you if only you would be better

Your story hits a climax, you came up against a deathful need

But the alarm sounded too late, now the poison runs deep

So now you’re gasping for air, no strength for the struggle

Your eyes were too far closed to see the signs of trouble

The pages go black, so I don’t know how your story ends

But I know I’ll never get to see you the same way again
Form: Rhyme

My Favorite Poet

Doth it not thrill thee, Poet,
Dead and dust though thy art,
To feel how I press thy singing
Close to my heart?

As though they were dried palm leaves
In Indian catalogue, your works
I would press so close
To my chest like man's third-leg
Snuggling to the thigh. I count
The beats straineously of the melody,
The vibrations of your works strike
Me to rhapsody. Who am I then?
A little child by the stream
Waiting for your sensual song, bird
To bide me somnolent
In a reveberating cacophony
Redolent of the train swiftly buzzing by,
The train that was you.

I would often sit at the threshold and wait
Till the moon grow to become sickle-thin
And the monstrouos night has sucked away
All the oil in my clay lamp. I still stay on
Like a good sentry, my eyes rummage hungrily
Through the pockets of a page,
Where the blood of your ink was shed-
For your sojourner I have become.

We will go together
In peregrination into the labyrinth
Of all those pages from the cream,
That was your brain.
I will be the mute acolyte,
Benignly I will wend,
Stepping into the trail you left like
Smoke unconcerned about direction,
Its flow turbulent, not the lamina vein
Of subtlety. Sometimes I feel cold,
My garb, goose bumps,
At the stark, sometimes shocking
Reality of your judgements.

You were and still is a victim of truth,
And I gloat at your judgements jealously,
Almost perfect. When not correct, you were
Honest, at least.

I would often dream
Of you smoking your pipe;
Your small, dainty frame silhouette nailed
To the wall by the pyrexed testis
Of electric bulb as Jesus to the cross.
Then your pipe bleed forth smoke
Like blood from fresh wound, seeping out
Ceaselessly, ideas sream forth from your brain
Like liquid from a boiling pot
Frothing over.

So I will proudly say I have
Some portion of your blood in me
To inspire my dazed memory
On those dark gloomy days.

for my uncle and late Nigerian Poet, Chris Okigbo.
(c) Onyebuchi, 2011.
Form: Epic


Premium Member Skylark

SKYLARK

Tenderness in the cotton powder skies above, fly little skylark
Within these clouds milky white, soaring through the veils of 
Nirvana, sing tiny song bird with graces flight of beauty beneath,
Sway against the canvas clarity, blanketed by crystal cleared blues
Hewes splendor divine!
Angled breezes usher currents of waved softness, uplifting,
Delicate wings spreading wide, embracing the dawn’s first
Rays of light, shimmering in the bursting brilliance's cast,
In reflective colors of God’s eternal rainbow, does it not
Shine so in perfections afterglow!
Glide ever freely on gossamer feathers appendages, as
Ivory vapors milt away separating in this rolling abyss 
Of atmospheric mists, drifting with elegance timeless
 Abandonment, carried upon the very breath of angels
 Frothy foam of spiritual faith!
Side shift morning’s skylark, between multi-colored shafts
 Streaming from heights glory of divinities finery, admits
Textures array cascading downwards, dissolving, vaporizing
Into the oceans aquatic spray of tranquility, lying underneath
The heavens magnificent horizon!
At twilight’s fading hour this graceful winged song bird
 Descends, unto the wilderness canopy evergreen.
Nestled amongst the leafy tree tops, lies her cradled
Nest of generations, sheltering those echoing
Voices yet to be heard, held captive within
Warmth’s birthing shells, beneath loving wings
Of graces mothering!
Harken the stirring within these egged time capsules,
What musical bursting shall greet the futures dawning,
Nay the harmony of perfections natural glory sing,
At the winged skylarks chorus soaring, to awaken
The sunrises majestic elegance!
Tenderness in the cotton powder skies above, fly little skylark
Within these clouds milky white, soaring through the vials of 
Nirvana, sing tiny song bird with graces flight of beauty beneath,
Sway against the canvas clarity, blanketed by crystal cleared blues
Hewes splendor divine!

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
© Cherl Dunn  Create an image from this poem.

Do You See the Nigeria I See

I see a Nigeria clothed in white linen,
Her skin glitters and glows like the sun.
Her lips brightened the earth of its darknes,
Unity, love, progress and kindness uphold her.
She dances among the nations of the world
joyfully in a spirited atmosphere of goodness.


I see a spotless maiden with a pure mind,
She stood with an undiluted smile that create
Peace among the brethens who sees enmity.
I see an undefiled vegetable springing up from
The west coast of Africa among dwarfs territories.
She is cute, a song bird with a songful mouth.


When she walks pass the trees on the streets,
They all waved in admiration of her beauty.
She harbour no corruption in her humble heart,
No pothole skins like others who walks afar off.
She is carribean, she is African woman, Origianl.
Her beauty is a natural thing, original flavour.


Do you see the Nigeria I see over there?
A pretty Woman devoid of tears and suffering.
No sick leaders in her east and north wings.
I see a mother that covers her children from the sun,
I see kindhearted mother that never withhold from
Her children even when it meant starving herself.
I see a tomorrow Nigeria, a better She- nation.


Look at her polished legs and tell of tomorrow!
Watch her precious lashes and fall in love now!
Come closely close and behold her behind the
Glass house over there, who is greater among them?
My mother is a great woman, my mother is great!
Can you see the Nigeria I am seeing of tomorrow?


Though she may look a little weak today, 
But I see another her blossoming like a flower.
Perhaps you don't see what I see now in my eye,
Tomorrow you shall see it as a testimony.
I see a better mother tomorrow, people's choice.
A tasteless water that nurishes the body daily,
A pipe that channels her resources to all,
I see a great country branded fidel by all.



(C) John Chizoba Vincent
      Voice Of Vincent 2016

A Moment In Time

Fragile the stems numbered in their days
That dance in spring, in the falling rays
Above the hills weathered softly by a mist
When shone the first morning light of bliss.

That 'tween the thickets wild and coursing air
Sprouts a young sweet bud glimmering fair
Delicately clasped upon the sleeping fields
Gracing springtime's vibrant days that wields.

Melodies sweet that in subtle days intrude
The white lilies pastured in nature's interlude
That in fragrance sweet me swiftly to awake
To greet the lilies wild softly as they fall.

On the perfect dews at Shelly's delicate feet
When a heaving mist like clouds with slow retreat
Gathers swiftly in her eyes like an emerald flame
As a pleasant little song bird recites her name.

In the artful limpid garden 'neath July's sun
Which hungers for the sweet of her speech spun
Like some magical tone that nectars a soul
Maybe her heart is like a splendid marigold.

In the fullness of the bright and merry morning
In the days when our wondrous God is sunning
The wretched world silenced by its deafening grief
In forlorn gloomy seasons unclothed of relief.

When lilies doesn't wither but rise and bloom
By every dreamy river, by every vibrant tomb
Its the stillness of her lips I've deeply kissed
On sultry dews of bliss, 'neath the honey cypress.

Suddenly it all becomes lovable like mild copen
Suddenly her hands descends into mines and opens
A new horizon of love more glorious than a dream
But from breath to breath in fulgent days it seems.

The dark clouds will come to extinguish our love
But in sultry passion this mighty heart will prove
That I'd love you thro' time, stress and life's decay
Thro' tears, and the darkest moments of our days.

I've lived to see the brightest of brighter moments
And to see a falling moonbeam as you smile
But the brightest flame in life's magical moments
Is honey your love to last a lifetime.
Form: Rhyme

My Heart Is Like

My heart is like anvil swinging on a fishing string
My heart is like a song bird without it's vocals flying on broken wings

My heart is like a deep ocean the deeper you go the darker it gets
My heart is like a bad memory everyone wants to forget 

My heart is like a hollow tunnel filled with emptiness 
My heart is a like woman scorn full of resentfulness 

My heart is like a frosted flower on a freezing winters night 
begging to be heated by the suns early morning light 

beckoning the arrival of a withered and early death
my heart is like a knight without his armor facing the dragon's breath

My heart is like an open book for all to turn it's pages wide 
My heart is like the ocean's salty waters from the waves that subside

My heart is like a broken poem lost in rhythm lost in rhyme
My heart is like a broken clock without the hands to foretell the time 

My heart is like a blind man who always likes to stare 
My heart is like a stunt man who gives up on the dare 

My heart is like tinted windows where the sun has no glare
My heart is like a hospital without the patient care 

My heart is like the mimosa plant sensitive to the touch 
My heart is like a standard car without the pedal clutch 

My heart is like the cuddle fish that changes it's disguise 
My heart is like a question asked but no answer is replied 

My heart is like my tears refusing to fall from my eye 
My heart is like no constellations embracing the darkened sky

My heart is like the kool-aid with out the sugar in the mix 
My heart is like a crack-head on the corner without his daily fix 

My heart is like the entertainer without any fans 
My heart is like the farmer without any land

My heart is just like this poem it just doesnt make any sense 
why did i even write the pointless poem in 1st person present tense???????
Form: Rhyme

Clarity

So what if we started anew?
Forgot about all of the pain we’ve put each other through
Maybe then we could learn to see the beautiful things we were made to be
Like two sparrows who just fell in love
But I’m no song bird, I’m not your dove
I was your crutch and you were mine
And we were just shadows this whole damn time
Our souls have been aching to be set free
So I said I hated you, but I meant to say me
See I’ve been lost in this world so torn 
Not sure if I was made only to be born
What’s my purpose, my place on this rock?
But with you, I felt meaning, an electrical shock
I wanted to save you
But what I just couldn’t see…
The darkness hadn’t engulfed you, the darkness
Was me
So I took a few trips around the sun
Only to discover, life had just begun
Begun anew, but without my friend
My love
My songbird 
For you, I send
Now I’m sitting in an alley covered in grime
The sun does not show its usual shine
I laugh.  I cry.
But there is no meaning
Without you, my soul is bleeding
I’m bleeding until there’s nothing left
Nothing to live for, only regret…
I must flee this place before I’m no more
Nothing but empty
Someone else’s chore
I want no pity, no sympathy please
Not your shoulder
I won’t fall again to my knees
The moon shines brightest on the darkest night
Lighting the way, leading my fight
I follow it
My heart pounds in my chest
I need anything but to rest
I am a songbird 
I am a dove
But I have found something new to love
The chances I have been given…
This life.  My life
It can be better
I must end this strife
And then there is sun
It shines once more
I feel its glow
I know its warmth
I see my shadow and it sees me
The darkness is gone
I am finally
Free

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