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K Balachandran Jul 2021
1.She seized me with one glad eye,
Some cryptic intent lurking behind.
The other eye gestures to me,
To move closer, I couldn't see why.

2.But her overture my system accepted,
Though not fully understood by me.
I couldn't even process the proposal,
But the verdict was out without the judge.
"My system is compromised, no doubt,
She has managed to hack it, I did suspect.
My legs moving towards her in quick time,
Is clearly the evidence for the breach.
Her kohl lined eyes, too played some trick"
On mind's screen, thoughts flashed.

3.She met me half way through,before
It became too evident, the undercurrents
That control the whole episode,unferled.
The smile she flashed was a command,
Didn't I hear a click, somewhere deep inside?

4.Her Kohl lined dark eyes
Concealed a suggestion of magic.
Dramatically she said what sounded,
Like a convoluted password,
My transformation was completed.
As a green parrot, so exotic!

5.Did I ever in my life
Had any hunch, that indeed I was
A parrot in disguise, and my sole aim
Was to meet her, the siren with distinction,
I loved the stupor slowly taking over.
To me it was what was badly needed.
After such magical change to an avian!
That too  without even the wave of wand.

6.Gently she lifted me and put,
At a spot on her left shoulder.
Then, as if by some prompt,
I started telling her, things he liked to hear.
This I guess as parrots we learn from nature.
A line of eager admirers she walked past,
They seemed pleased hugely, no doubt,
Because, she is with some one,
She seemed specially care.

7.At home, the enchantress was
In her elements, on a cage hung high,
On a perch, I sat gazing at her.
The prince in daring disguise,
In a bid to meet the enchantress in person,
And lose myself in her radiance.
Her face beams a smile that sugests,
All of this was a trick , she had perfected
In keeping with nature's wish.
Something then nothing -
A parrot on my left shoulder
But it is not real
Shofi Ahmed Jul 2020
The moon sparks the stars
in the depth of the dark
and mesmeric cool walks the walk.

Everyone else maybe then was in sleep
the nightingale goes out and sings.
The sun touches down the rose in the morning
unleashes the blue sky in the broad daylight
a canvas for everyone, draw your mind.

Forget the twilight is not a finishing line
at the end of the day, there is still a searchlight
right on the horizon an ode to the evening star
a choreographed popup - the moon is on the way!
Again art in silence - Taj Mahal flower in stone
the beauty subtlety is beauteous
and a mesmerised parrot lost for the word!
Dylan Apr 2020
Blue parrot, talk me through. Tell me how I can come to you.
I am reliant on the words you say. But your words are not more than my own.
Give me wisdom, give me hope. Only the blue parrot can help me, help me, help me.
Is it you or is it me, what made the blue parrot's words come to be?
Perhaps I should be my own blue parrot, for I am me, and him I am yet to see.
My own blue parrot I am, it has been revealed. From my ignorance came wisdom, for it is the truth that I seek.
This poem lays a remark on god. Eventually I realized that great knowledge my arise from trusting in yourself as much as you'd trust in god.
ALesiach Jul 2019
Sailing the briny seas,
the winds taking us where they please.

A parrot on my shoulder,
"Pieces of eight," it repeats over and over.

If there is mutiny in the ranks,
aye matey, they will walk the plank.

Other ships we will plunder for gold
and any prisoner we will stick in the hold.

A treasure map we have found,
X marks the spot on the ground.

And once we have found the treasure chest,
we will sail off into the sunset.

ALesiach © 11/08/2014
SR Nirmal Kumar Nov 2018
"My brave knight!"
Blushed the scarlet gourd
Hugging a pecking green parrot
Cana Mar 2018
I met an unfriendly parrot
I can’t blame him really. He lived in a cage
He stood there and squawked
Screaming displeasure at all who passed.
Staring balefully at sunburnt tourists
Asking if polly wants a *******
He doesn’t want a ****** single one.

I did find out what he liked.
Completely by accident.
Turns out he likes songs,
Click songs, because
“The white people cannot say Qongqothwane”
He lives in Bahamas and he is quite lovely. I stood there looking the fool and singing to him for 15 minutes.
Sarah Michelle Nov 2017
Maybe I'll get a
Fan to put on my shoulder
Like my own parrot
Guden Oct 2017
I see fingers of rock
Coming up the earth.
It's a giant
Being expelled
By the construction of the subway.

Parrots parrot
Above my head.

Behind the *******
Of a statue,
Some creepy fellas
Sell creep,
Others ask for snow white,
I see a family eating ice cream
Without a clue as to the dealings
Of the dealers.
A happy old man,
And only girls
Competing for their father's love.
In a park in the middle of Santiago, some things happen.
This is Santa Isabel and San Diego.
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