Bird at rose• Show poetry

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bird at rose

 

 

 

 

 

Credit: Girl Looking at Landscape by Richard Diebenkorn [at art.com]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

get your socks on playlist

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fly robin fly

 

Fly, robin fly
Fly, robin fly
Fly, robin fly
Up, up to the sky

Fly, robin fly
Fly, robin fly
Fly, robin fly
Up, up to the sky

Fly, robin fly
Fly, robin fly
Fly, robin fly
Up, up to the sky

 

- Silver Convention

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'm coming out

 

 

 

Im coming out
Im coming
Im coming out
Im coming out
Im coming out
Im coming out

Im coming out
I want the world to know
Got to let it show
Im coming out
I want the world to know
I got to let it show

Theres a new me coming out
And I just had to live
And I wanna give
Im completely positive
I think this time around
I am gonna do it
Like you never do it
Like you never knew it
Ooh, Ill make it through

The time has come for me
To break out of the shell
I have to shout
That Im coming out

Im coming out
I want the world to know
Got to let it show
Im coming out
I want the world to know
I got to let it show

Im coming out
I want the world to know
Got to let it show
Im coming out
I want the world to know
I got to let it show

Ive got to show the world
All that I wanna be
And all my billities
Theres so much more to me
Somehow, I have to make them
Just understand
I got it well in hand
And, oh, how Ive planned
Im spreadin love
Theres no need to fear
And I just feel so glad
Everytime I hear:

Im coming out
I want the world to know
Got to let it show
Im coming out
I want the world to know
I got to let it show

 

- Diana Ross

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Credit: Sunrise - Dawn bursts forth by Dina Sierra [at art.com]

 

 

 

 

Title: spring moved in this house

 

On the horizon at the early hour, 5:27AM,
I watched poetry rise
one metaphor shaft a minute,
fast as my dawn of years
while rose petals bloom in calm rays ~
with my bird wings I too ascend
morning beams,
becoming a hummingbird,
perched like a cloud
to suck nectar, almost honey

 

Copywright: bird at rose

 

http://allpoetry.com/poem/4654043

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

formerly, in order:

 

SplishSplashPencil 

PoetryInA-Keyboard

Flowered Keys

Bird At Rose [currently]

 

 

 

 

the new avatar is of my mamma and me ... walking, singing ... imagine your own situation through it since it's not video

 

 

 

 

I want to give you a map to the beginning of my poetry to here.  It's in a state no other than the username of my mamma ...

 

pre...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Read the comments of

http://allpoetry.com/poem/4262281

 

That's where I finally saw how precious editing my poetry can be.

 

 

Qualifiers to my quill ...

 

In the past, for some challenges, if I knew the judge liked sad [without it requiring that genre,] I used to lean myself to write that way, to feel like I had a chance in the competition.

 

I realise now that I should explore the same beauty nature offers, environment, personal life and/or family, watching for something not the same, all connecting personally.  I also enjoy letting it become a mixture of abstract with some simplicity, making one object pop with another like your color of your shirt making the little yellow flowers on your gauchos stand out, kind of thing!  That way I'm not dissapointed totally if i don't win a trophy, because I'm still pouring my heart out, whether it be humorous (not silly though) or whatsoever.

 

My name has a reflection as well ~ I'm always on the search for some pollination of inspiration!

 

I guess I could call myself a bad rhymer, when I try.  I love reading good overall meter, but I can't easily match end words as well as my feelings at the same time without seeming forced.  I do acknowledge those who can.  10-07-2009 UPDATE: I think my style is changing, into a much more happy, yet still clever, humor.  And, yes, I'm trying rhyme again lol, loving it.

 

I have a deep love for the little, tender things in life, like grasshoppers, parrots, really all animals as they're a part of nature, how should you try to depart?  And, in turn, I like to try to have respect for others.

 

Take a look, please, at another favorite video of mine ... about a robot who is designed to act like a human baby.  Scienticifically poetic.

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CbY_pLw_7Lc

 

My mamma and I were having a conversation, on a Saturday night of course while listening to disco music ... "Just like poetry you have metaphor, imagery, brevity, alliteration etc, it seems that to have a disco song you need the words, Boogie, Dance (Floor) and badaupahbadapah, then there has to be a whipping kind of danciness in the beat ... but, some only do one or overly without rhythmic reason or any, and then it's lousy to dance to...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And, I love the credit: Beyond The Grass by Jerry Clovis [at art.com]

 

 

 

 

 

Little brown dog

 

I buyed me a little dog its color it was brown
Taught him to whistle to sing and dance and run
His legs they were fourteen yards long his ears they were broad
Round the world in half a day on him I could ride
Sing terry O’ day

I buyed me a little bull he was four inches high
Everybody feared him who ever heard him cry
When he began to bellow he made such melodious sound
That all the walls in London came tumblin’ to the ground
Sing terry O day
Sing taddle day

I buyed me a flock of sheep thought they were all wethers
Sometimes they yielded wool sometimes yielded feathers
I know mine are the very best sheep for yield and increase
Every full and turn of the moon they bring forth lambs and geese
Sing terry O day
Sing taddle day

I buyed me a little glass colored it was green
In it was all the wonders man has ever seen
I put in my pocket tied up with a cloth
Cried and cried the day I found that it had been lost
Sing terry O day
Sing taddle day

I buyed me a little dog its color it was brown
Taught him to whistle to sing and dance and run
His legs they were fourteen yards long his ears they were broad
Round the world in half a day on him I could ride
Sing terry O day
Sing terry O day

 

- Judy Collins

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Credit: A Close View of a Black-Chinned Sparrows Feathers by Tom Murphy [at art.com]

 

I thought that photo looked like a zoom-in of quills, overlapping a flower

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[full bio]

 

 

 

 

Trails of forests:

 

[lists]

 

 

 

 

Sing a rhythm:

 

[active contests]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pollination: 

 

[items]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

don't rip my special petals: 

 

[focused]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Title: generated

 

between the pole and wire

that's more than decorative

but gardenesque,

there's an arched rose branch

reaching through this gazebo,

vignetting a hand

 

and, I welcome them,

grazing my fingers through the leaves

 

like how poetry can be remembered

 

- bird at rose

 

 

 

 

Credit: Clarinet and Flute on Sheet Music with Rose by Tomas del Amo [at art.com]

 

 

 

 

 

{a rotating cycle}

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The House That Jack Built

 

 

 

There was a crazy architect called Jack
who bought himself a small piece of land,
and built a house exactly like no other
why, I guess I'll never understand.

It seems the front door opened outwards
the ceiling was the floor upside down,
all the windows were put in back to front
there's not a house like this in any town.

The kitchen's in the lounge for economy
to make room for an extra double bed,
the bathroom and the toilet separated
one in the basement, the other in the shed.

The carpets on the wall were quite impressive
but papering the floor must have been hard,
with the back door at the side of the house
there is no way to get into the yard.

There is a staircase leading up to nowhere
why he put it there I just don't know,
It's pretty obvious there's no second floor
even in this crazy bungalow.

The outside of the house is completely round
with just one chimney stack on top,
in design it is truely unique
but commercially it had to be a flop.

He spent all his money constructing it
and is now in debt up to the hilt,
but he's proud to tell everybody
this is the house that Jack built.

 

- seriousclown

 

 

(I love this poem because of how I don't get tired of laughing at it, and yet it's not stupid silly; with creativity, based on slips of fact)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shadows of Separation

 

 

 

there is nothing between us
and yet there is everything
as I hide emotion behind lace veneers
where a mother's tears can flow unbidden
and sadness can curl on smiling lips
to utter tomorrow's dreams
while never truly believing
in any of them

for loneliness has settled in my palm
where once your little hand rested
so innocently
and your shadow curved within mine
with a sense of belonging
as if there could never be
any separation

but now light has left spaces
crawling between us
where eyes are drawn to the emptiness
with forced acceptance
and goodbyes are words I say
with gasping breath
forced from screaming recesses

as I linger solemnly at windows
watching shadows disappear
praying that once more
your's will dance
within the circle
of your mother's love...

 

- Cupcrazy

 

 

 

(I love this poem because the author heartwrittenly expresses how when there's loss, the gaps get filled by everything she doesn't want)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lepidopterous 

 

 

 

In the library,
a thought-a-fly
escaped from a nature book
on the sly

he winked,
went to the water
fount for a drink

scanned the headlines
of the New York Times;
silently

slipped inside a cozy poem
where he felt quite at home.


None was the wiser,
nor batted an eye,
but the one who
was winked at by

the thought-a-fly;
what does it look like,
how many wings?

such you may be wondering;
but, to this, I've no reply
as each thinker must decide.

 

- Olivias Violin

 

 

(I love this poem because she gave a situation to absorb you into the stepped true inspiration of poetry)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Baby Stars.

 

 

 

Moon’s hardened milk dribbles into howling
mouth of baby stars, and breast-feeding
alters unfruitful; as rocks.

 

- perfectsunset

 

(This poem seemed to hint the way I like to look at things; it's so observingly absorbed into nature, to then find a beauty like babies, wow)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

hi style with stylis

 

 

 

may fall not stall the quill of my call
my fingers linger while eyes evaluate
how the back of a neck
may accentuate unseen face

windsong sing as well between my fingers
the pinch of a rose to smell
down to desert from lost places
I used to know so well

once in a while away
my mind wanders and thats ok
to places on a mountain plane
nice to visit but know cant stay

perhaps uopn a chance so rare
you find yourself to meet me there
at night we may find the stars
because they can see
the back side of the moon

hold a bird in your palm
raise it like a natural mom
if it doesnt seem to flowered
to springtime fields
one tall daisy

to the right lost in space
left is column of grey
could be better writing from my sitting
some other day

- voices

 

 

(This poem was a tribute to my avatar, me and my mamma ... so delightfully heartfelt, thank you Darin)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I don't feel like loving you today

 

 

 

I don't feel like loving you today
So don't you even try to change my mind
The best thing you can do right now is just go away
'Cause I don't feel like loving you today

I don't want to talk about last night
I'm angry, and I haven't had much sleep
And I'm so tired and bloodshot
Th'ain't no tellin' what I'd say
'Cause I don't feel like loving you today

But you know I will anyway
Even though we make it hard sometimes
And I'll wind up forgiving you
And probably loving you for the rest of my life


But I don't feel like loving you today
And I've got sixteen hours left to go
I might tell you that I'm leavin'
Even though you know I'll stay
'Cause I don't feel like loving you today


But you know I will anyway
Even though we make it hard sometimes
And I'll wind up forgining you
And probably loving you for the rest of my life


But I don't feel like loving you today, yea
I just don't feel like loving you today

 

- Gretchen Wilson

 

 

 

 

 

 

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