#hawk
The crow was being chased in the air
By the bigger, stronger hawk
While the crow dodged his attacks without a care
The hawk began to talk back
"You know you can't escape me,"
"I'm stronger and faster than you."
The crow replied, "Just let me be,"
"I'm forever quicker and smarter than you too."
While the crow said this very thing
The hawk flew faster and tore off the crow's wing
But while the crow was falling from the sky
Not once did he think he was going to die
And while he fell to his possible end
The only thing crow wanted was revenge
And with his beak, he caught himself on a tree
And with his beak, it cracked in three
The crow fell safely to the ground without a sound
The hawk wanted him to die as he dove from the sky
The crow took a seat on the ground with his cracked beak
And since he had no wings to fly, there he would lie
The hawk soared, he roared as he approached his prey quick
The crow with peace, reached for a nearby stick
The hawk reached him down low
And when he tried to rip his bones apart
The crow picked up the stick, the arrow
And pierced the hawk in the heart.
Oct 5, 2024
Oct 5, 2024 at 11:09 AM UTC
Spring morning,
quiet. One coyote,
three deer
running in snow.
What else have I seen?
A sparrow hawk in mid-air ******
a robin, a sharp-shinned hawk catch
a rabbit in its talons.
A deaf mute in a pear tree.
Not one wolverine
in Utah or Italy.
Nor a famous samurai.
A young black bear
traverses the lawn in August.
Also quarks. Also oaks.
Do not disturb their progress!
A red fox
alert, no limp
flows silently
across the meadow.
First light, green tea.
A person thinking
epochs and eons.
A platoon of chickadees.
Jun 18, 2024
Jun 18, 2024 at 6:31 AM UTC
No sound, at a corner of a giant sea rock
With a fisherman’s eyes search, he sits alone,
searches above, around, and down
mindful of predators
Sea winds pass dangers lurking everywhere,
though it can’t see the hawk a half mile away
that is watching its every move
towards fallen acorn seeds, where
A hawk flying down and confused for his life.
A sea wonder sits alone and refused to look into sky,
death by hawks within due to strife,
She, departing the nest from the past.
Of swans, of salmon leaping where
the silver water plummets,
and even when caution
is in the wind, dangers remain
Of glaciers swelling broad and bare
A toast to a fallen hawk, the Lord
pours out his largess there
as long as planets continues.
Jul 23, 2022
Jul 23, 2022 at 5:49 AM UTC
Soldiers Returning From the War
Red rivers to wade through,
heart sickened
at the sight of battle blood,
enemies and friends
fallen, never forgotten.
Bullet blasts and combat cries
in dreams, in the waking hours
of the returning wounded,
whose war has not ended.
James E. Roethlein copyright 2021
May 12, 2021
May 12, 2021 at 8:38 PM UTC
I know i chose the right path
I've seen all the possible outcomes
My sight seized by the hawk
My aim is the aftermath
Laying on the highest rock
The teachings of wisdom will last
Dripping from the skies
Protected by all the curious cries
Onto the souls seeking the holistic prize
And guidance
From the divine creatures in the Heavens
Transmitted to give hope and validate your merit
Until you accept you are a god and live by it
Sep 22, 2020
Sep 22, 2020 at 6:23 AM UTC
morning hawk shrieks
awakening the goldensphere
arise heatmaker
evaporator of dewmist and frost
evoker of see rays
energizer of the scuttleprey
but beak waves impact the falling spray
in rainy day are lost
this day goldensphere will stay
adoze on her horizon home
meadow hush
cloud down begrace her sparkleface
comfortably monochrome
Aug 18, 2020
Aug 18, 2020 at 5:59 PM UTC
Tremble
by Michael R. Burch
Her predatory eye,
the single feral iris,
scans.
Her raptor beak,
all jagged sharp-edged ******
juts.
Her hard talon,
clenched in pinched expectation,
waits.
Her clipped wings,
preened against reality,
tremble.
Published by The Lyric, Verses Magazine, Romantics Quarterly, Journeys, The Raintown Review, Poetic Ponderings, Poem Kingdom, The Fabric of a Vision, NPAC—Net Poetry and Art Competition, Poet’s Haven, Listening To The Birth Of Crystals (Anthology), Poetry Renewal, Inspirational Stories, Poetry Life & Times, MahMag (Iranian/Farsi), The Eclectic Muse
Keywords/Tags: Tremble, predator, raptor, hawk, eagle, falcon, talon, beak, wing, preen, preened, preening
Ordinary Love
by Michael R. Burch
Indescribable—our love—and still we say
with eyes averted, turning out the light,
"I love you," in the ordinary way
and tug the coverlet where once we lay,
all suntanned limbs entangled, shivering, white ...
indescribably in love. Or so we say.
Your hair's blonde thicket now is tangle-gray;
you turn your back; you murmur to the night,
"I love you," in the ordinary way.
Beneath the sheets our hands and feet would stray
to warm ourselves. We do not touch despite
a love so indescribable. We say
we're older now, that "love" has had its day.
But that which Love once countenanced, delight,
still makes you indescribable. I say,
"I love you," in the ordinary way.
Winner of the 2001 Algernon Charles Swinburne poetry contest; published by The Lyric, Romantics Quarterly, Mandrake Poetry Review, Carnelian, Poem Kingdom, Net Poetry and Art Competition, Famous Poets and Poems, FreeXpression, PW Review, Poetic Voices, Poetry Renewal and Poetry Life & Times
Mar 16, 2020
Mar 16, 2020 at 5:25 AM UTC
Earthbound,
and yet I now fly
through the clouds that are aimlessly drifting ...
so high
that no sound
echoing by
below where the mountains are lifting
the sky
can be heard.
Like a bird,
but not meek,
like a hawk from a distance regarding its prey,
I will shriek,
not a word,
but a screech,
and my terrible clamor will turn them to clay—
the sheep,
the earthbound.
***
Tashunka Witko of the Lakota Sioux, better known as Crazy Horse, had a vision of a red-tailed hawk at Sylvan Lake, South Dakota. In his vision he saw himself riding a spirit horse, flying through a storm, as the hawk flew above him, shrieking. When he awoke, a red-tailed hawk was perched near his horse.
Published by American Indian Pride and Boston Poetry Magazine
"We Came Together" was written as song lyrics for New Zealand composer David Hamilton.
We Came Together
by Michael R. Burch
We came together – people of two lands
so unalike, at first, we hardly knew
how to be friends. We went to war, and drew
lines in the sand. And yet the sky was blue
for everyone, and big enough to share.
We came together, and our friendships grew.
We had to learn to share the selfsame air,
to find the path to harmony,
to find some common ground and let peace bloom.
We came together and we gave hope room
to blossom in our hearts. We learned to be
together in our common destiny.
We come together – people of many lands
so unalike, at first, and now we know
how to be friends.
Keywords/Tags: song, song lyrics, music, composer, diversity, understanding, tolerance, common ground, multiracial, friends, friendship
We Come Together, Holding Hands (I)
by Michael R. Burch
We come together, holding hands,
the children of so many lands;
it’s what the day demands.
We come together, seeking peace,
intent of love, our hearts at ease.
We come together, seeking peace;
it’s what the day decrees.
The time is right. The time is now.
We come together, knowing how
the world depends on us to know
the only time to love is now.
We come together, holding hands,
the children of so many lands;
it’s what the day demands.
We come together, seeking peace,
intent of love, our hearts at ease.
We come together, seeking peace;
it’s what the day decrees.
Copyright © 2023 by Michael R. Burch
We Come Together, Holding Hands (II)
by Michael R. Burch
We come together, holding hands,
the children of so many lands;
it's what the day demands.
We come together, seeking peace,
intent of love, our hearts at ease.
We come together, seeking peace;
it's what the day decrees.
Earthbound,
and yet we fly
through the clouds that are aimlessly drifting ...
so high
that all our songs
that echo where mountains stand lifting
the sky…
can be heard.
The time is right. The time is now.
We come together, knowing how
the world depends on us to know
the only time to love is now.
Earthbound,
and yet we fly
through the clouds that are aimlessly drifting ...
so high
that all our songs
that echo where mountains stand lifting
the sky…
can be heard.
We sing together, holding hands,
the children of so many lands;
it's what the day demands.
We sing together, seeking peace,
intent of love, our hearts at ease.
We sing together, seeking peace;
it's what the day decrees.
Copyright © 2023 by Michael R. Burch
i wrote a giddy little song
by michael r. burch
i wrote a giddy little song,
which u can dance to, all night long;
i wrote a giddy little poem,
it’ll tempt a smile, like sea foam;
i wrote a giddy little line,
it’ll tease a laugh, like a dandelion;
I wrote a song and took the trouble,
it’ll make u smile, like a soap bubble;
i wrote this giddy bit of fluff,
now dance to it, get off ur duff!
Copyright © 2023 by Michael R. Burch
Feb 22, 2020
Feb 22, 2020 at 1:06 AM UTC
The law of attraction says that you attract what you think.
So, there's a chance you're attracted to me
because I think about you often.
Except the law of attraction fails
when walking into a sliding glass door.
Ever done that?
It's like stubbing your toe, only it's your face.
And though it's your face that takes the hit,
it really just hurts your spirit.
Nothing about it looks attractive.
Like the other day, a hawk — a widely respected bird of prey —
flew straight into my office window
with a humiliating thud
because it thought the reflection it saw
was more sky.
Hawks are supposed to see everything!
So the law of attraction
causes blindness.
It promotes crash landings.
Or at the least, awkward tripping
over words
or the lines we drew in sidewalk chalk.
It's just a friendly game of four square, right?
I’ll wait to step into your circle
only to stumble and fall for you
with a humiliating thud.
sorry, did you hear something?
It sounded faintly like a dream just shattered,
but I think you said this is your fiance.
so
nice
to
meet
you
I hope your wedding has an open bar.
I mean, I hope your wedding sets the bar
for
your
marriage
to reach limitless heights.
And don’t mind the mess. I’ll just sweep it up like nothing happened and catch up with you love birds later (never) - watch out for the glass.
This law sounds a lot like gravity, and it too
is flawed because people fall
for people that don't fall back.
And then you get the odd man out
walking into closed doors and wanting to curse on impact,
but I will hold my tongue.
Because cursing will attract curses.
Instead, I'll bring gifts — I know,
a stuffed teddy bird —
and I'll leave one at the foot
of every sliding glass door
that doesn't open.
I realize that sounds creepy.
So I’ll just leave them by the window
(my window)
where I can watch the moon I shot for
behind the clouds.
Until another blind hawk goes down.
Then it's a less attractive view.
It's hard to get sleep in an empty bed,
to wake up in front of a fake tree in late January
and open the gifts I never got to give.
The law of attraction:
it’s an ugly Christmas sweater.
If I can't attract who I think,
then I'll repel the cold that I feel
until I'm convinced that this empty feeling
is freedom - the kind that precedes flight.
I believe in defying the gravity of my emotions.
Therefore, I don't believe in laws.
They just break.
I once believed in marriage
until it broke
and I want my daughter
to believe it was no one’s fault
This is a lawless country — think feudal Japan —
where lovers are fighters and who is to tell the masterless heart what to do.
It's a teenager
who never made it past high school
because it keeps skipping class.
Fear not: I am a grown up.
I am too old to be falling
for the pseudoscience of false hope
even if our chemistry doesn't lie.
Except our math doesn't add up.
And my history is an essay on wartime aviation
crumpled and thrown out of an open window
because I used the word 'alone' too many times
to describe what it feels like to fly solo
Alone means nothing on paper
It should be torn in half:
All and One no longer together
Anything that isn't one
must be in pieces,
and being with some One
is not the end all, be all
God was a lonely man for Christ sake
I’ll think of other words:
Alone, all one, no.
One.
Thinking attracts no one.
I'll make up a new law:
don't think. Move
Just not near anything made of glass.
It’s bad for the birds.
I got nothing but love for the birds.
Jan 11, 2020
Jan 11, 2020 at 1:46 PM UTC
Soaring through the clouds
The hawk observes his next meal
Dropping in to dine
Brian Hill - 2019 # 325
Dec 27, 2019
Dec 27, 2019 at 9:10 AM UTC
I’m not sure what brought me to look up
but i saw a lady red tail, perched atop the elm by the bus stop,
With her head tucked under her wing, probably as cold as I was.
I’ve only ever seen them with entrails in their mouth,
at conservations and public gardens, among masses of tourists,
and maybe their shadows in the top floor of the castle
where i attended boring freshman classes.
Once in the car driving up to the capital with my cousin-
they’re said to be common though.
Lady was different- she was small and seemed docile
not unlike the fluffy little birds that made homes
in the bricks at the station,
making themselves bigger for warmth.
I stopped in my tracks and stared, then looked around for someone to share her with-
but everyone looked awfully busy.
Oct 29, 2019
Oct 29, 2019 at 11:57 PM UTC
Circle like a hawk possessed
-of some imaginary thing.
Some glimpse of shine-value
Of money-tender caress
And magpie-madness you go
Down, down, deep down-fall
Not to catch yourself - for you are too
-Far - gone low
Nothing is there, there never was
But the flurry-chaos of autumn sprung crunch
Of dissociation and dissipated-
Dreams.
Oct 24, 2019
Oct 24, 2019 at 10:20 AM UTC
The elder women walked
the dry land for twelve days
None of the sand-demons found them
The white garden
shall remain unseen
'till the angel's corpse
sprouts from the earth's belly
When will the golden hawks
be free again?
The walls of Jerusalem
had almost fallen down
In every crown
the lidless eye
is placed
Apr 28, 2019
Apr 28, 2019 at 5:56 AM UTC
He tasted dry,
When licked with sour spit.
His scent was foul.
Broad hands rejected
Curling feet.
Met by scowling eyes,
He criticised me with love.
Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 7:45 AM UTC
Creeping crawling
Waiting stalking...
You sit there in wait
As if a planned date
Of which, I do not know
Why are you staring little crow?
You sit and watch beating hearts
'Til the harvest starts
I almost tune out the evil laugh
That you bellow from deep within your wrath
And almost forget where you reside
That is, within me, deep inside
Your jar of souls collected slowly
You take your time being unholy
You go into hibernation away from the watchful cavists
You do not mind though, for winters calm brings great Spring harvests
You feast and feast devouring bit by bit
You take piece by piece encouraging me to submit
Fighting the pain,
Fighting in vein...
Tearing me down, nonstop
As if I your crop
Little crow caws in joyous evil song
Release me from your grasp, I beg all night long
You come and go
And reap what I sow
Taking my strength and will to fight
Chomping down into flesh throughout the night
Released once more, you hide away again
I almost forget, but you have written it in permanent pen
You wrote "Never forget, sweet child, I am you keeper.
Sincerely,
The Soul Reaper."
Jan 10, 2019
Jan 10, 2019 at 10:42 AM UTC
My eyes are dull
Darkness flows fast and
Steal my heart and
Fly away
Darkness flows fast and
They'll go avast again
Fly away
Just like the hawks
They'll go avast again
Tooting the horns
Just like the hawks
They've found their prey
Tooting the horns
Searching for love
They've found their prey
Bombs away
Tooting the horns
Steal my heart and
They've found their prey
My eyes are dull
Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 6:51 PM UTC
everything was so mundane,
no sound,
no name.
the silence watched over us like a hawk,
resting it’s talons on the trees above.
there was no thud,
no beat,
no reverb.
the machines did not whir,
or click,
or crackle.
the strings never hummed,
the girl never sang,
and the child never played.
neurons following a set circuit,
run,
stop,
go.
the sun always set,
yet it had never risen.
hardwired to the equipment,
but the machine never worked,
because the processor was coated in a mundane molasses.
moving through gray honey,
black and white retinas perceive gray things
for our slow-moving hands to paint.
the words were the same,
the day never changed,
it was, and always will be
the same.
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 6:47 AM UTC
she sat by the stake
scorched feathers fell to the ground
and her talons fell
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 12:09 PM UTC
There once was a scorpion
who lived under a rock
who dreamed every night
that he was a hawk
in dreams he would soar
through the night's skies
searching the seas
for his most wanted prize
there was always a scorpion
who was truly a hawk
but at the end of each night
he would crawl under his rock
He would continue to do this
until he got his true wish
that someday he would catch
a lightning like fish
There will be a bird
who once was a hawk
who lived as a scorpion
under a rock
a bird so colorful
because he got his true wish
that one day he'd catch
a lightning like fish
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 11:17 PM UTC
As I walked over the mountain tops
with glory in my hair.
I saw a bird upon the wing.
It floated in the air.
It hovered near, above my head
not leaving for a while.
Just glared at me, like food for free.
I swear I saw a smile.
I swear this bird, this soaring beast
had me in terrors grips.
It longed to be the end of me
to taste my blood... one sip.
But I was not a weakened soul,
and on these heights I strode.
As surely as the sun was high
and in this bitter cold.
This bird would never get to me
or strike in me a fear
of being eaten dead alive.
Worms crawling in my ear.
Oh bird alight, please fly away.
I'm fearful of your stares.
On this day, I surely know, you'll
linger in my nightmares.
Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 6:59 AM UTC
late in the afternoon
a storm hawk
sounded his prophetic tune
within his blood
an inkling of the weather
which would prevail
his clarion call
went o'er the landscape
from a vantage point
high in a gumtree
it reverberated
so liberally
inside the hour
on the hills
and in the steep ravines
gullies rushed
in fast moving streams
he knew the weather drill
he knew it well
when skies would
spill a raining
gill
his predictive powers
sensed moisture
being about
hence his calling
resounded
in an innate vein
Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 9:18 PM UTC