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#blackbird
Once upon a wounded blackbird's wings What breeze has wandered upon this fateful thing? And of which shadow is cast upon? A calm feline has cast it's suspecting eye Upon a flurry of birds, appetite whet Clamoring eyes mix with primal instinct Interest persists further as the cat stealths closer to the hopping bird Open green groves house their sociality To adjust for the unsuspecting gale- Dark clouds usher in the maelstrom Oh, this wounded bird of prey! Hopping from grass to stone Worm in beak a-gape Excited feline has cast it's toying eye The mental primal urges stregthen Never suspecting poor odd One Becoming The Gift
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Apr 2
Apr 2, 2026 at 8:55 AM UTC
The Gift
The hail paints speckles in the plumage: the blackbird -- becomes a starling.
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Jan 13
Jan 13, 2026 at 6:26 AM UTC
The hail paints speckles
Blackbird, blackbird are you sad? Has Magpie taken all you have. Is your song a song of sorrow, or a tune for a new tomorrow? What to do with your empty nest? Should you weep or warn the rest? I think I know what you should say. Magpie, magpie keep away.
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Feb 16, 2025
Feb 16, 2025 at 3:54 AM UTC
Blackbird
I. In the beginning God was, And the blackbird Was not. II. And Adam called it a blackbird, And that was the name thereof.
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Jun 20, 2022
Jun 20, 2022 at 12:22 AM UTC
Two More Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
Moon glitters on waves Blackbird sings in the shadows Nature's midnight song
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Mar 29, 2021
Mar 29, 2021 at 2:41 AM UTC
Night Bird
Blackbird sitting on the windowsill, out of the cage and still not knowing. Trying to think of flying or staying still, as not wanting to stay but no point in flying. Blackbird looking out to the ground outside, seeing other birds flying up, up and away. Dreaming of a chance to break free and soar in the skies, being grounded by the thought that today is not the day. Today is not the day to fly, fly with the pain of everything associated with departure. Today is not the day to say goodbye, goodbye to all the bad and the good whichever is harder. Blackbird looking out the window and just hopin', without realizing the window was open.
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Mar 27, 2021
Mar 27, 2021 at 3:17 PM UTC
Blackbird
black birds songs long when midnight meets two zeros freedom’s hard to feel in cages, unsung heros from the distance, a free bird listens left to lose, tied, denied dreams black bird cursèd broken wings tied and broken feet with a broken voice sings sings of freedom new dawn new song canticum novum flight might come soon
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Aug 23, 2020
Aug 23, 2020 at 2:22 AM UTC
00
all my blackbirds sing for me and all my friends arrived roses bloom above my head a fine place to reside lacrimal gush under vails will remedy promises always lie pain will tell the journey trenched the soil to reach the sky all my blackbirds stopped to sing for they are no more all my friends left the same and all the roses wilt in dirt I've been reckoned as a coward they will never see what I saw and all my songs will stay unsung and all my songs will stay unsung
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Jul 31, 2020
Jul 31, 2020 at 8:03 PM UTC
Blackbird's Song
Bewildered by the difference, the vast, unknown shape of it all Not moments before, ensconced in familiar tangles, routinely fed and tended by parents who flared and chattered at the merest prospect of a threat, met only by bolshy robins who scoffed at fear and tumbles of sparrows who hid in each other This necessary, Hail Mary leap sees me petrified grounded at the foot of an adulthood full of flight, song and the weight of freedom if I can just get through these cat clawed days and nights
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Jul 15, 2020
Jul 15, 2020 at 10:48 AM UTC
Leave Home
To the boy Elis by Georg Trakl loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Elis, when the blackbird cries from the black forest, it announces your downfall. Your lips sip the rock-spring's blue coolness. Your brow sweats blood recalling ancient myths and dark interpretations of birds' flight. Yet you enter the night with soft footfalls; the ripe purple grapes hang suspended as you wave your arms more beautifully in the blueness. A thornbush crackles; where now are your moonlike eyes? How long, oh Elis, have you been dead? A monk dips waxed fingers into your body's hyacinth; Our silence is a black abyss from which sometimes a docile animal emerges slowly lowering its heavy lids. A black dew drips from your temples: the lost gold of vanished stars. TRANSLATOR'S NOTE: I believe that in the second stanza the blood on Elis's forehead may be a reference to the apprehensive ****** sweat of Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane. If my interpretation is correct, Elis hears the blackbird's cries, anticipates the danger represented by a harbinger of death, but elects to continue rather than turn back. From what I have been able to gather, the color blue had a special significance for Georg Trakl: it symbolized longing and perhaps a longing for death. The colors blue, purple and black may represent a progression toward death in the poem. Keywords/Tags: Georg Trakl, translation, German, Elis, blackbird, black forest, birds, brow, blood, grapes, monk, body, dew, stars
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Apr 30, 2020
Apr 30, 2020 at 11:59 PM UTC
Georg Trakl translation "To the boy Elis"
To the boy Elis by Georg Trakl loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Elis, when the blackbird cries from the black forest, it announces your downfall. Your lips sip the rock-spring's blue coolness. Your brow sweats blood recalling ancient myths and dark interpretations of birds' flight. Yet you enter the night with soft footfalls; the ripe purple grapes hang suspended as you wave your arms more beautifully in the blueness. A thornbush crackles; where now are your moonlike eyes? How long, oh Elis, have you been dead? A monk dips waxed fingers into your body's hyacinth; Our silence is a black abyss from which sometimes a docile animal emerges slowly lowering its heavy lids. A black dew drips from your temples: the lost gold of vanished stars. TRANSLATOR'S NOTE: I believe that in the second stanza the blood on Elis's forehead may be a reference to the apprehensive ****** sweat of Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane. If my interpretation is correct, Elis hears the blackbird's cries, anticipates the danger represented by a harbinger of death, but elects to continue rather than turn back. From what I have been able to gather, the color blue had a special significance for Georg Trakl: it symbolized longing and perhaps a longing for death. The colors blue, purple and black may represent a progression toward death in the poem. Keywords/Tags: Georg Trakl, translation, German, Elis, blackbird, black forest, birds, brow, blood, grapes, monk, body, dew, stars
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To the boy Elis by Georg Trakl loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Elis, when the blackbird cries from the black forest, it announces your downfall. Your lips sip the rock-spring's blue coolness. Your brow sweats blood recalling ancient myths and dark interpretations of birds' flight. Yet you enter the night with soft footfalls; the ripe purple grapes hang suspended as you wave your arms more beautifully in the blueness. A thornbush crackles; where now are your moonlike eyes? How long, oh Elis, have you been dead? A monk dips waxed fingers into your body's hyacinth; Our silence is a black abyss from which sometimes a docile animal emerges slowly lowering its heavy lids. A black dew drips from your temples: the lost gold of vanished stars. TRANSLATOR'S NOTE: I believe that in the second stanza the blood on Elis's forehead may be a reference to the apprehensive ****** sweat of Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane. If my interpretation is correct, Elis hears the blackbird's cries, anticipates the danger represented by a harbinger of death, but elects to continue rather than turn back. From what I have been able to gather, the color blue had a special significance for Georg Trakl: it symbolized longing and perhaps a longing for death. The colors blue, purple and black may represent a progression toward death in the poem. Keywords/Tags: Georg Trakl, translation, German, Elis, blackbird, black forest, birds, brow, blood, grapes, monk, body, dew, stars
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Apr 23, 2020
Apr 23, 2020 at 6:15 AM UTC
Georg Trakl "To the boy Elis" translation
To the boy Elis by Georg Trakl loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Elis, when the blackbird cries from the black forest, it announces your downfall. Your lips sip the rock-spring's blue coolness. Your brow sweats blood recalling ancient myths and dark interpretations of birds' flight. Yet you enter the night with soft footfalls; the ripe purple grapes hang suspended as you wave your arms more beautifully in the blueness. A thornbush crackles; where now are your moonlike eyes? How long, oh Elis, have you been dead? A monk dips waxed fingers into your body's hyacinth; Our silence is a black abyss from which sometimes a docile animal emerges slowly lowering its heavy lids. A black dew drips from your temples: the lost gold of vanished stars. TRANSLATOR'S NOTE: I believe that in the second stanza the blood on Elis's forehead may be a reference to the apprehensive ****** sweat of Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane. If my interpretation is correct, Elis hears the blackbird's cries, anticipates the danger represented by a harbinger of death, but elects to continue rather than turn back. From what I have been able to gather, the color blue had a special significance for Georg Trakl: it symbolized longing and perhaps a longing for death. The colors blue, purple and black may represent a progression toward death in the poem. Keywords/Tags: Georg Trakl, translation, German, Elis, blackbird, black forest, birds, brow, blood, grapes, monk, body, dew, stars
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Hey guys How's it going? Beautiful day! What's that you're eating? Oh, you're not planning to stay? You can leave your pack here This bench is totally safe No need to zip it up There’s no time to waste Go on, go play I’m just hanging out Enjoying the day Check out this friendly crow smile Now, off you go Have fun for a while And thank you in advance... NCL 2019
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Jun 2, 2019
Jun 2, 2019 at 7:12 PM UTC
Said the crow
Blackbird, blackbird, whither 'way Don't come down this way in Sleek sails of five and six Hither here, two and three Come forth and fly in Through the broken glass Onyx separations carve In six wings lost to starve May the host slight the royalty Blackbird, blackbird, whither 'way Don't come down this way with Sacrificial dust from seven circling Hither here, two and three Come forth and fly in Through shattered self Onyx separations carve In six wings to starve May the way be paved Blackbird, blackbird, will I? In the serene sloughs, call Out from the dusk, ten sails high? Blackbird, blackbird Come around, see my gift And sing your song
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May 9, 2019
May 9, 2019 at 9:00 PM UTC
Wings of Omens
Red-Winged Blackbird Here you are again, in the chain-link fence. It's the same every day as I pass by heading home--you perched there. Are you waiting for someone? Do you, like me, wonder what's next? I'm often on the fence, too. Each day I pray for success for my six children. I can't rest until they are on their own, thriving. My wife is the same. We keep our eyes on hope. Blackbird, you neither sow nor reap, nor gather into barns. Do you question, each day, how you will feed your family? People urge me to write a will. It's inevitable, but I feel responsible. I want to be here for them. I still talk to my parents and am pretty sure they listen. I don't know if you, blackbird, contemplate these things each day like me. I'll swing by again tomorrow.
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Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 6:27 PM UTC
Poem by Tom Donlon
Quote that black bird for me, Cause I don’t have the time. I’m too busy deciding Whether great snowfalls will end it all Or ***** of fire this time.
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Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 11:46 AM UTC
When Boredom Reigns Supreme
Dreamt about you again. I'd tell you all about it, but I know you won't receive it. I wonder maybe if you knew-- if I called upon you every morning after fitful sleep, haunted by your face.  Maybe then if you knew, maybe then you would not be so cruel. If only I knew what inspired you to have done what you continue to do is it me? must be.   But what did I do, did I hurt you? Or have you just decided I'm worthless and not worth your time. I try, I do. to respect you, your space and wish for me gone but how can I drop you when you won't leave me-- You, who chase me in my dreams.
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Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 3:04 AM UTC
blackbird
How did we get here?, how did we fall? Plummeting through the universe. Taking each other down with the ship, trapped and drowning in silence. Damaged pieces welded shut, we're empty on the inside. Suffocating in hatred feeling, turns out we were not good to each other. You used to say hi with hurried goodbye, the black bird jets its wings. Decayed trees linger the walls, and leaves entrap the heart. Hurting bares a mark to each, Souls escaped in breath. Innocence once pure and pledged, has darkened and hardened in edge. Molded, shaped. Nothing new. Neither one can change. though I can try hard each day, I'm sorry I wasn't good to you. Black bird flies through the night, Perched itself to the tree. While the tree is sad and decayed The heart still feels like home.
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May 25, 2018
May 25, 2018 at 9:09 AM UTC
Apology to you.
My life before I met you was just simply dull. I never ever felt any emotions. I couldnt feel happiness, I couldnt feel sadness. I didnt even have any emotional relationships with people. Like I knew I should love my family or some friends. And I said I did. I just couldnt feel it. It was just a word for me and I thougt that's normal because I never knew anything other. Everything changed when I met you. And by everything I mean my whole life, soul,thinking,feeling,talking,moving,dreaming,breathing. There wasnt a single part of my existence that didnt change. I started feeling things Ive never felt before. I started seeing things Ive never seen before. When I was with you I often realized that I feel like Im in a movie. In a really, really beautiful movie. Everytime we went to bed I never fell asleep before you and then I just stared at your beautiful face sleeping and your beautiful chest moving while you were breathing. And every morning I woke up earlier just to look at you a bit longer. When we were waiting for the tram in streets of your beautiful hometown Prague, I looked at you again and I remember my thoughts till this day. "How ******* lucky am I to call you mine. How did I ever deserve you? And also how lucky I am that you are also a lesbian." Since I met you... I strated crying. I never really cried before. Do you remember the first time you played the guitar for me? How my tears just started falling? I dont really know why but I think that was the moment I fell in love with you. Cause I didnt know that feeling and I didnt know how to express or let out my emotions, so I just started crying. And then usually tears started falling while your body was joined with mine... or when we were saying goodbye... It feels like my life just started when I met you. And that was how I knew I was madly, madly in love with you girl.
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Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 7:32 AM UTC
How I knew I was in love with you
My life before I met you was just simply dull. I never ever felt any emotions. I couldnt feel happiness, I couldnt feel sadness. I didnt even have any emotional relationships with people. Like I knew I should love my family or some friends. And I said I did. I just couldnt feel it. It was just a word for me and I thougt that's normal because I never knew anything other. Everything changed when I met you. And by everything I mean my whole life, soul,thinking,feeling,talking,moving,dreaming,breathing. There wasnt a single part of my existence that didnt change. I started feeling things Ive never felt before. I started seeing things Ive never seen before. When I was with you I often realized that I feel like Im in a movie. In a really, really beautiful movie. Everytime we went to bed I never fell asleep before you and then I just stared at your beautiful face sleeping and your beautiful chest moving while you were breathing. And every morning I woke up earlier just to look at you a bit longer. When we were waiting for the tram in streets of your beautiful hometown Prague, I looked at you again and I remember my thoughts till this day. "How ******* lucky am I to call you mine. How did I ever deserve you? And also how lucky I am that you are also a lesbian." Since I met you... I strated crying. I never really cried before. Do you remember the first time you played the guitar for me? How my tears just started falling? I dont really know why but I think that was the moment I fell in love with you. Cause I didnt know that feeling and I didnt know how to express or let out my emotions, so I just started crying. And then usually tears started falling while your body was joined with mine... or when we were saying goodbye... It feels like my life just started when I met you. And that was how I knew I was madly, madly in love with you girl.
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Just tell me.. What should I do to numb the pain that has fully outgrown through my whole body.... Just tell me what to do... Cause I dont know what to do anymore. Everything seems just pointless without you. And I know I can have you back. Or can I? Well for sure not right now.   I've been really unwell since you left...   Now this time, it has been a year. A whole ******* year since you told me you need to be alone, A year since you broke my whole ******* heart A year since I almost died in your bathroom and you saved my life A year since I last heard your voice A year since I last kissed you A year since we made love A year since I told you I fell completely in love with you A year since I first met your family and you met mine A year since you were the most beautiful surprise out of all on my birthday A year since you played a last song on the guitar for me A year since I was crying when I had to say goodbye to you and wait a whole week to see you again A year since I felt like my life couldn't get any better A year since I drank alcohol and felt joy instead drowning in the sadness for your absence A year since I started writing a beautiful, happy, loveful poetry A year since I truly felt any kind of emotions for the first time...   And after this whole ******* year I still crave for you. After all this whole ******* year I still love you.
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Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 6:58 AM UTC
Just tell me
sky of white cotton a rusty blackbird cloud sweeps! the grassy knoll sways
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Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 7:56 AM UTC
Suburban Haiku #3
On a rather lonesome autumn day I drifted through the trees, Wandering round the forest floor with a soreness in my knees. I'd come out to this quiet place in need of healing time, For those moments I'd let slip away and walked the painful line. I sat down on a dying log when the leaves began to fall. For what seemed like forever I just tried to fight it all, Every hurt and wound I'd caused, every fall from grace, That led me down the jagged path and brought me to this place. As I saw the ashes floating, there was an unexpected sound, and I turned to see a pair of wings that were lifting off the ground. With feathers thick and dark as night but fire at its core. I stood there frozen by the grace as I watched the black bird soar. Fly away, Fly away, Oh Black bird help me fly away. The bird tore through the windy sky with an awesome show of force, as if drawing on a passion fueled by some unknown source. In defiance it let out its cry and that was when I saw, The face of mother nature here in the cold and in the raw. Valiant, stretched from wing to wing it carried on its way, Sailing through the rugged skies and dreary clouds of gray. It rode up to that horizon line and I watched it disappear, Free from all its enemies and free from all its fear. Fly away, Fly away, Oh Blackbird help me fly away. I chased it down the muddy trail along the rivers bank, and suddenly I saw two more join up along its flank. Then three strong they picked up speed and rode towards the sun, Separate though they may have been, they found their way as one. I still walk through the forest floor on lonesome autumn days, For it's there I find my quiet time where I go to get away. And I look up in wonder and listen for the mighty cry, Hoping that the black bird is still tearing through the sky. Fly away, Fly away, Oh Blackbird help me fly away.
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Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 4:11 PM UTC
Black Bird
On a rather lonesome autumn day I drifted through the trees, Wandering round the forest floor with a soreness in my knees. I'd come out to this quiet place in need of healing time, For those moments I'd let slip away and walked the painful line. I sat down on a dying log when the leaves began to fall. For what seemed like forever I just tried to fight it all, Every hurt and wound I'd caused, every fall from grace, That led me down the jagged path and brought me to this place. As I saw the ashes floating, there was an unexpected sound, and I turned to see a pair of wings that were lifting off the ground. With feathers thick and dark as night but fire at its core. I stood there frozen by the grace as I watched the black bird soar. Fly away, Fly away, Oh Black bird help me fly away. The bird tore through the windy sky with an awesome show of force, as if drawing on a passion fueled by some unknown source. In defiance it let out its cry and that was when I saw, The face of mother nature here in the cold and in the raw. Valiant, stretched from wing to wing it carried on its way, Sailing through the rugged skies and dreary clouds of gray. It rode up to that horizon line and I watched it disappear, Free from all its enemies and free from all its fear. Fly away, Fly away, Oh Blackbird help me fly away. I chased it down the muddy trail along the rivers bank, and suddenly I saw two more join up along its flank. Then three strong they picked up speed and rode towards the sun, Separate though they may have been, they found their way as one. I still walk through the forest floor on lonesome autumn days, For it's there I find my quiet time where I go to get away. And I look up in wonder and listen for the mighty cry, Hoping that the black bird is still tearing through the sky. Fly away, Fly away, Oh Blackbird help me fly away.
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