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birdy Mar 8
Take away their power
and ignore their pain.

But culture is perennial,
and no practice is in vain.

You’ve cut the line
but the call is still coming through.

Change is coming.
With or without you.

Take away their language,
but the land will teach them the way.

Knowledge and memories,
will always stay.

Try to obstruct their knowing,
haven’t you heard?

Your graining insistence,
is quiet like the blue bird.

The river is flowing,
the sun is still stirred.

Ancient lines of wisdom,
what are you afraid they might learn?

Your resistance to beauty,
beyond absurd.

When will you let them find freedom?
Surrounded by the colonial herd.
birdy Jan 4
I went to that bridge,
the one nobody knows.
To stand on the railing,
in my pretty white clothes.
Then imagine the falling, falling,
the letting go…

Have my sins be forgiven
by the deep blue waters.
To which so many
lose sons and daughters.

Splashing,
crashing,
thrashing away.

I find myself still alive.
But beaten up enough,
that it’s easy to give in,
hard to survive.

An open escape,
yet I’m still desperately pleading.
Gasping for air to
breathe in,
breathe in and hold on.

Hold onto the sorrow.
Hold onto the pain.
Hold onto the life that drives you insane.
Feel the tension,
a storm in your brain.
Lighting cracks,
scream and shout.
Holding.
Holding.
Breathe it out,
out,
out,
out.

My plans, plans,
never really unfolding.

Mind chose to prevail.
Inhale, exhale.

My plans, plans,
never really unfolding.

Like when I fell in love,
with a boy who can’t be.
Cold feet, only getting colder.
Temperature dropping, dropping,
and you’re only getting older.
Time will keep passing,
now you can’t even hold her.
Your fingers still, limbs frozen over.

Your mind is dark,
I can’t find the match.
For the candles, candles,
and the spark won’t catch.

Happier alone,
that’s what he said.
Isolated from you
I feel six feet under,
dead.

Talkin about you,
like you’re already gone.
Mourn a man,
whom I’ve only fawned.

Oh how I wish
I could say good riddance,
let his death be a dawn,

To a new coming sun.
Breathe out his poison,
with a simple yawn.

Yet I still breathe in,
breathe in and hold on.

Hold onto the sorrow.
Hold onto the pain.
Hold onto the man that drives you insane.
Feel the tension,
a storm in your brain.
Lighting cracks,
scream and shout.
Holding.
Holding.
Breathe it out,
out,
out,
out.

Oh how I wish
I wasn’t so drawn
to deep brown eyes,
his siren songs.

Waters so alluring,
eye of the storm,
can you see me?
Do you watch me perform?

Make a fool of myself,
in my pretty white dress.
No longer so warm.

Are you hiding?
I’m pleading, please.
I need some confiding,
and I know you can see.
Please tell me…

Will I ever be free?
birdy Oct 2023
filled with futile passion.

tears meant to be rationed
pooling at my knees,
spilling so fast
its hard to see.

a sea of futile passion,
beautiful but,
worth nothing
when its time to cash-in.
birdy May 2023
Never felt quite like this,
like i’m just existing
existing sweeps me away like a tide
my mind moves slowly down it like a delicate wooden raft
only to accelerate until it crashes
and I have to reset each time
each time losing a plank
until i’m quite literally on my last straw
well… semi-literally
and it *****
because I don’t even know why
why im putting myself through the journey
birdy May 2023
I’m sick of trying to make my thoughts beautiful

I’m too tired to think in verses

Poetry is like a whole other language

Sometimes I feel like I’m pretending to be bilingual

I’m not an artist

Like the rest of you
birdy Feb 2023
if eyes are the window to the heart
why do i like to see yours closed
at rest

perhaps the anticipation of opening
the shutters

proves more beautiful
than the view
birdy Feb 2023
definitive death
deafening dark
a break never to be unbroken

now how must i find

the heart of a feeling

the throat of an emotion

the end to a thought

how can i know the last page of a story
when page numbers lose meaning
my poetry frivolous like—-
crayon scribbles in a colouring book
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