Alone I sit Watching the bluebirds Peck, peck, pecking away Singing, flying, swooping No bluebirds come past this window For now, I sit And watch Waiting for my bluebird to come To throw its shriveled, beaten body against the window Again And again To flap and flap and scream and thrash While the other bluebirds sing Sing their birdsong and soar Feathers becoming transformative In the golden light of the evening They shimmer, colors mixing and blurring beneath the sun My poor little bluebird Pathetic, frail, and writhing I close the curtain And walk away From the window.
Tell your muse to slap herself buy a gun and cap yourself buy a farm then buy the farm buy the sheep that spins the yarn
take your words and shove them! take your birds and love them! put nothing else above them...
not even air
tell your side to ready for battle by some fencing and by some cattle buy a ranch and buy the farm shave the sheep that spins the yarn
Are you still writing poems in mom's bathroom? That is *******.
buying the farm - dying
yes i meant "by" in last stanza, which is meant to say that even poets who are clueless are not cattle...maybe we are wild mountain sheep? Please don't take this too serious because i have respect for all poets...i just can't relate to old thinking and lines. I know some will flip that switch and experience real life, which sometimes *****, but is still amazing in itself...much love
In these moments you were nothing but magic -- gypsy dancing from suburb to suburb, -- stripping yourself of your shoes, -- feeling the earth directly beneath your feet; Whispering secrets that kiss the soft-singing lips of the wind, the elements of my earth
So I let her out I couldn’t keep her quiet anymore Oh the times she humbly cried Every time I ever tried
Her darkness receded My guilt, for her light, we traded
As she leapt with her wings spread wide I took a deep breath, turned to her and said
‘Fly through the winds and the bends Soak in the countless nature’s trends Sing till your throat feels dry Test yourself how far can you fly’
‘There is not a cloud you can’t reach All the silver linings they preach of the failures and what they teach That one more time, we all must try Test yourself how far can you really fly’
‘It is not a victory waiting to be secured and boast and claim all the miles you conquered It is to challenge yourself all the way to embrace the freedom everyday And remember when I say Test yourself how far can you fly How far can you really fly away’
A response to Mr. Charles Bukowski's bluebird poem