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Oka May 2020
I'm up your mind flocking, like a bird
Menancing, dropping disses like a **** when you look up boy you better be concerned
Compared to your rhymes, it would be the flyest **** you ever heard
Did I say I like hip-hop?
Shrika May 2020
That bird -
Perched on a neem branch,
Its beady eyes search through scorching rays
For its departed half long drowned
In the dusty depths of Earth.
Hollow heart thumps
In mere existence.
Hours pass by.

Hope
Dims in this twilight sun but
Somehow,
Weaves its way through these
Wayward winds
Calls and cries of anguish
Shatter against the Gates of Heaven
Melodies of melancholies
Capture my wandering mind,
I watch until
Lingering love transforms into starlit forlorn.

Wistful.
Ken Pepiton May 2020
Nothing about a bird's life
seems difficult,

after escaping the egg. All birds ever called to fly,
first survive the egg.

After surviving the egg,
each bird seems

eminently able -- wait,

learning to fly,
that seems difficult

no, that, too, is automatic, an algorithm in some avian system
of cellular facility formation
while
maturation of flight feathers takes time,
not know how.

Wait, and see if

reasoning in birdbrains may be mono pole,
one aim, one direction

like by monopole
electrons driven, an action reaction loop, find good...

good? no, good? no, good, yes,eat this and
grow a few feathers,
without thinking, what are feathers for,
where no feathers were.

Birdbrains do not reason why. The baby watches
momma fly.

Unless, men have changed the program, tamed our wild ways,
fed us corn in quantities we never could imagine,

ours is but to be useful, my Raven mentor caws,
laughing like he knows I have no clue.

-- in the air a query, are chickens still birds?
If good is good enough, it is good enough to provoke a good work. Do birds think flying work?
MichaelJfourie May 2020
Hello Little Bird
I wonder if you heard

We are locked indoors
I can only watch you soar

Would you listen to my song
Where did we go wrong

Please dont go away
I want you to stay

How selfish of me
I forgot you are free
And
We are Caged
The Foodie One May 2020
You
make me feel like
Putting
the pain aside;
Breaking
the cage I live inside.

Free -
Like a Song;

Like
a Bird
starting to Fly -

A Bird
returning to Life.
Manda Kolav May 2020
Tweet tweet! what a beautiful bird I am,
The sun a yellow comb, strokes
My little juniper tree and me.
La-dee-da.

I’ll fly across
The stone yew and its chuffing
Fugue.

I’ll watch the
Shotgun wedding of
smoke and leaves.

I'll watch their breathes
Catch and stumble
While the chimney boys sing
And the choir boys weep.
La-dee-da.

Filthy bird song! They shout
Like bullets.

As I fall onto my mother's nest.

She’ll unfold her downy hands
And there in the tickled pits of her palms,
Will splutter and wail
A filthy black bird
With its filthy smoked cloak

And
Her eyes will glaze,
Returning my dismal hums. She
Will fetch a shiny name for me
In the cracks of bourgeois cobble.
****!

And it will all just be a joke
La-dee-da

And I will be a joke
La-dee-da

And I will stretch my wings
and

drown.
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