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#feeding
Quickly repeated and high-pitched chirps came from a branch. On it, there was a nest, and in it, there were three baby crows. Toward them, came flying the Raven. He gave them their food, and cawed to them as if telling them what He had seen. "A dead person being honored, a big crowd looking at a couple, a small crowd around a table, and another big crowd singing and then looking at me. That's what I've seen, and I'll come back when I've seen more." The little babies almost cried. They couldn't yet express themselves, but their chirps almost sounded like weeping. Their father cawed as a farewell, and then, also sad, the Raven flew.
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May 4
May 4, 2026 at 2:35 PM UTC
The Raven flew (5)
bites are much harsher than their barks – to those who haven’t swallowed their pride. to bite on other people’s ideas and dreams; their ideals prove an ideal meal –                                                          _their wealth, fame, influence, status_ surviving on someone else, feeding until your teeth are boneless - but when it comes to greed, one finds a way to feed such a need –                            _zombies with false teeth._
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Jan 12, 2025
Jan 12, 2025 at 4:54 PM UTC
zombies false teeth
Flipping, flickering through the air Darting from branch to branch Caught at times by the slight breeze Alighting, picking at plants tiny seeds But, with one eye always seeking motion Trees, bushes bound by their deep needs Bare your weight without a frown And as you lift to seek another perch Those branches hardly ever move So delicate your grasping wee feet Your eyes so bright and shining I watch silent as you land at my toes You and I, we know each other well Me, I’ve seen you so very many times Either fathers, mothers, here you dwell Drop brown bread crumbs for you See your toes check, before you peck So I’m lost gazing, my love for you true Then away you flit, dart back to tree Leaving me behind, somewhat forlorn However I know it’s better that you’re free
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Dec 11, 2023
Dec 11, 2023 at 11:21 AM UTC
Little Friend.
The birds in the backyard often look there for food and it seems they're doing so lately in a happier mood; it was just the other day when I mowed the grass so now they can move easily over it again and pass. Their activity is done habitually each and every day and watching them closely seems as if they're at play. They scrounge on the soil with their beaks and feet competing at times for some bite and morsel to eat. When disturbed by a sound they fly up into any tree away from the threat of danger they scamper and flee. A human presence would be enough to get them going particularly when heading in their direction knowing. It's a bit of a delight to see them at play in their quest doing what they all have to do to survive hunger's test. I used to feed them some crumbs on a regular basis which became a habit for me to them as in an oasis. Together with water left in a plastic bowl for a drink they'd a few things going for them one would think. It was only after the local cats caught onto the idea with their basic instinct, that food or game, was near. One of them would come around and hide in the grass crouching there patiently for the right moment to pass; if the birds were unaware they would fly down to eat of the crumbs left for them so their hunger could beat. The cat seizing on the opportunity then would by surprise spring up and race after them as food or game in its eyes. There would be a mad scramble and loud flutter of wings as the birds, escaping from that danger a predator brings, would scatter and fly away as fast as they could to where they'd be relatively safe from the clutches of death there. Sometimes when looking out the back window I'd see a cat roaming in the backyard in the shadows of a tree; this would be enough warning for me to raise the alarm and get out to try and keep those local birds from harm. I would do this by chasing the cat away over the fence so the area would be clear again for the birds I'd sense. _________________
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Jan 31, 2022
Jan 31, 2022 at 5:02 AM UTC
On Feeding the Local Birds
The birds in the backyard often look there for food and it seems they're doing so lately in a happier mood; it was just the other day when I mowed the grass so now they can move easily over it again and pass. Their activity is done habitually each and every day and watching them closely seems as if they're at play. They scrounge on the soil with their beaks and feet competing at times for some bite and morsel to eat. When disturbed by a sound they fly up into any tree away from the threat of danger they scamper and flee. A human presence would be enough to get them going particularly when heading in their direction knowing. It's a bit of a delight to see them at play in their quest doing what they all have to do to survive hunger's test. I used to feed them some crumbs on a regular basis which became a habit for me to them as in an oasis. Together with water left in a plastic bowl for a drink they'd a few things going for them one would think. It was only after the local cats caught onto the idea with their basic instinct, that food or game, was near. One of them would come around and hide in the grass crouching there patiently for the right moment to pass; if the birds were unaware they would fly down to eat of the crumbs left for them so their hunger could beat. The cat seizing on the opportunity then would by surprise spring up and race after them as food or game in its eyes. There would be a mad scramble and loud flutter of wings as the birds, escaping from that danger a predator brings, would scatter and fly away as fast as they could to where they'd be relatively safe from the clutches of death there. Sometimes when looking out the back window I'd see a cat roaming in the backyard in the shadows of a tree; this would be enough warning for me to raise the alarm and get out to try and keep those local birds from harm. I would do this by chasing the cat away over the fence so the area would be clear again for the birds I'd sense. _________________
Continue reading...
37
Cook for me, put things in the *** that make my tongue go Hello Dolly! Rock ‘n’ roll flavours savoury sweet and acid hot so lips smack and I get lost It’s not the quantity that counts just the beguiling intensity of spice blends, herbs and the nerve to let the metal smoke
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Jan 23, 2022
Jan 23, 2022 at 11:43 AM UTC
Repast
Inspection leads some men to brief resurrection, But that course can also lead to a defection. There’s often some needing, for a frenzy of feeding, When we seek to feast, on an ego that’s bleeding. Is it real or some mirage, lost in forest or garage? So many casualties of truth, how can we triage? And this is that place too well we all know, that if you disagree well that’s just your ego. And right or wrong you must submit, Or be tossed from the circle a dishonorable **** How is it we can be so blind, to not see we are of a kind. Who run about with desperate shouts, without a mindful mind. In the dark I see a wraith Perhaps a remnant of our faith, Ephemeral and tinged with rust Forgotten father of our trust. I’m not speaking here to thee, what’s this paradox I see But you said that, no I did not, Oh, what a travesty! Walk a mile in my shoes, see for yourself what you may lose, Perhaps you’ll find the fit so right that it awakes you in the night. And there you’ll lie and toss and turn, amidst the loss amidst the burn Oh, sad child who would not learn Please say a prayer for me.
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Sep 1, 2020
Sep 1, 2020 at 1:34 PM UTC
Inspection/Reflection
Kissing *** left and right Feeding on the weak, feeding them sweet nothings Makes you wonder if they can mean anything truly sweet Kissing *** up and down Feeding on the weak, feeding them fake respect Makes you wonder if they can truly respect anything
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Jun 27, 2020
Jun 27, 2020 at 6:45 PM UTC
Kissing ***
Title; Feeding off their unhappiness Drop         drop                drop Bring your silver lined buckets Catch and gather Tears for collectors Clink         Clink                  Clink What's your preference Sadness so valuable Happiness now obsolete Joy     Joy        Joy Your contentment rising high Filling your void Empty buckets make you cry Silence             Silence                         Silence Too dry a day today Happiness a comeback Fill their buckets Your tears of hate
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Feb 25, 2020
Feb 25, 2020 at 10:28 AM UTC
Feeding on their unhappiness
Soma that seeps flowing like little creeks sprinkling off the edge wetting a tongue outstretched watering wilted flower beds feeding that pretty head cycling arid to wetlands
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May 29, 2019
May 29, 2019 at 11:54 AM UTC
Lachrymation
She was the ***** of creation, and her milk seeded the stars. Purity of white feeding light into the endless darkness.. Her hair weaving the constellations together, a thread of intricate gravity. Holding every moment in a unity of creation. Gazing upon the her gown, supernovas bursting forth, the old giving new beginnings to woven designs, drawn up before the first stars shone forth.. A mother of a universe, of old and new. For even one day she will pass, but until that time she will be the milk suckling the stars to a life of new birth.
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Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 5:16 PM UTC
Mother Of The Universe
I Sleep ; I Slip In Doze, I Seep out into the Scenes ; In Potions Deep In Notions Cold and Preasuring I Fit and Knit my Crown I Coral I Knot and Concrete a Frown But though I Invite my Efforts My Thoughting is Leaks and Tearing * Over Whale but Underwater I Recover Nothing Reassuring Slowing to a Pale In Ocean Cold My Feedings are Slurring to a Drown My Motions ; Enwombed and Collected An Unfoetal, my Body Undertakes a Vulnerable Mould Above The Surface The Ship Blinks, on Fire And Gifts from the Broken Hold Sink to me It's all a Wink Directed at me A Humour But I am become Prepared Still For the Next Life I Discard, Decending Still A Treat Sunk Below A Monsterous Breakfast                                                  *note : as in, secreting saline, watery fluid
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Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 10:19 PM UTC
SlumberBrine [or The Whale]
True love is: A waxwing bird feeding A cuckoo who was left in her nest The starving cuckoo is pleading The waxwing is doing her best.
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Jun 12, 2018
Jun 12, 2018 at 1:59 PM UTC
Waxwing
She was like the sky, A scheduled light with the blessed glow from the sun A huge change, one that showed me darkness can come from light Like how day can become night She was like the sky, A clear blue of sadness and sorrow They focused on the flaws that clouded her beauty, But I noticed the millions of stars that shone within her She was like the sky, Everyone wants to be the master of the heavens But she was heaven herself She was a sky full of so much hope She was like the sky, They hated seeing her constantly shine, Constantly reflect her happy light, They loved it when she shed, They took her tears for fulfilling rain, They prayed for her to cry, to stop all the shine In order to supply for their desires and pride She was like the sky, And now she's more like an endless stream.
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Apr 22, 2018
Apr 22, 2018 at 3:47 AM UTC
She was like the sky
In the long or short expanse of your life can you say you have become a hero? I often wonder if I’ll be remembered for anything important when I’m gone. No biological children to carry my name no feats that brought me fame no bravery to save a life in danger no building or great wealthy gain no great status or social changer. But more and more lately being considered or thought of greatly is not my concern. Now-a-days I ask myself if I’ve taken time to listen or smile or write a rhyme to pause for a minute or an hour to stop, notice and smell a flower? Have I spoken kindly in a bad mood or shut up when someone was rude or let traffic in my lane or fed my soul as well as my brain? Today I ask not if I am a hero but simply if I am becoming. “Becoming a Hero,” Copyright ©2017 by Glenn Currier
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Jul 4, 2017
Jul 4, 2017 at 12:54 PM UTC
Becoming a Hero
Love is a not war But against ourselves, A will changing Passion lifter Bone breaking Hand scarring Feet burning, It has not much to do with the heart As it slices our brain in half And we love it Like loony maniacs who never had a cookie in their lifetime.
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Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 1:24 PM UTC
Like feeding a starving animal
Not exactly proud of it Just don't have the time No teeth or claws Nothing really but hunger Not begging or choosing Just desperate for something to eat And when we find something, anything It becomes disgusting. But we don't care We don't have a choice It's not like we will get to see Another day So we feed. And we feed..
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May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 1:00 AM UTC
Carrion Fairy
Insecurities Will be the death of me.. Feeding on my mind....
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Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 10:43 PM UTC
Insecurities (senryuu)
A collage of so many  wings blend together to form a motion of wisps lighter than a feather unto there colliding forms became illustrations but these were fake facades of a narration. Her smiling features fluttered reverberating All were hypnotized, all were unintentionally baited With eyes that quivered with each moment passing. Awe struck at this image that perceived eyes all hung. Was this beauty that besotted the mind of reality or was it on the heart and thoughts not to agree. Which ever smitten were all within her eyes prolonged gaze that captured all sights that lingered never withdrawn. Moving towards this illusion that contradicted sight footsteps lingered towards known oblivions plight for above a cliff they lingered enticing all to flight descending to silence, they feed quietly on others plight.
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Jul 9, 2016
Jul 9, 2016 at 3:10 PM UTC
An Illusion Of Wings Fluttering Imagery
As I am reading. My mind is feeding. My soul is feeling. My heart is crying. Your words they haunt me. The more I read. The more they please me. Teasing my brain neurons. Tickle my thinner skin. Feels so alive. When you take me in. Into your soul and fragile mind. I can almost feel your heartbeat racing. Dark shadows chasing. Hear you mentally breaking. In your words I know who you are. You carry a heavy burden. I can't carry it for you. But I can pick you up. And together we move forward.
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Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 5:22 AM UTC
Together we move forward
There's a flap on - flying fluttering olympian feeding before the frosts competitive cooperation repetitive consternation tribal territories transgressed survival of the fattest. Darker days dominate. The land browns bare. Animals hibernate. 'It's not the same', the doctor said, 'Don't do it or you'll become obese. Their diet would put you in bed. You'd die before your time of some terrible disease. Follow my special diet. And run if it's fun .' 'But don't be a convert to anorexia. That's a perverse faith. You'd never make it as a wraith. Take a tablet for your headache.'
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Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 6:04 AM UTC
Autumn Feed