"birdbrain" poems
A TERM OF ENDEARMENT.....
As a little girl my girl friends dad
Called me BIRDBRAIN....
And that never bothered me.
I knew it was a term of endearment.
Of course back then I didn't know
What endearment meant.
But I knew he was kidding...
His house was the fun house
Of the neighborhood.
His wife was an angel.
We had taffy pulls,
Mrs G made popcorn *****
And lined up chairs
In front of the television
So we kids could watch
Wrestling....
with a big bubble magnifying glass
And she served us bowls of popcorn.
Always something to do....
I went to the quarry one time with them
Looking for fancy rocks....
Mr. G, Mr. G is this a good one?
No Birdbrain, it's just sandstone...
He was a fancy rock collector...
The name Birdbrain was so special to me...
A name which was spoken with
Endearment....
I'm sure of that.....
By judy
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 6:45 PM UTC
Your sad and weary caterpillar eyes
Finally helped me come to realize
Our future need to metamorphasize
No more crawling, lets be butterflies
But sometimes I'm as blind as a bat
And I can move as slow as a sloth
Lets order in, watch TV, and get fat
Blame the world and turn all goth
But instead lets try on another hat
Lets flap our dusty wings as a moth
You Coulda been a filthy street rat
Lucky to be cut from a different cloth
Yes you may live like a bird on a wire
You may be a rabbit blinded by desire
Chasing tail, just another skirt to squire
Learn to fly moth, headfirst to the fire
Or perhaps you"re an ostrich with it's birdbrain in the ground
Blissfully ignorant to see sights, smell, taste or hear a sound
Bringing up the rear, blindly spiraling yet you're nowhere bound
Stand up tall and breathe in life, and lets make it epicly profound
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 6:59 PM UTC
My home lies in a distant world
Unknown to me
My consciousness takes me there
In times of despair
Where my family is always laughing
And the cook’s always cooking
The birds always singing
And the books always, well, booking
My room lies in a separate part of the house
Hidden away from sight and sound
My bed, the storehouse of my dreams
My palace of solitude
It’s there where I think
It’s there where I dream
It’s there where I write
There where I eat ice cream
But then they came
And placed clocks inside my room
I asked what they were for
“To tell you the time, birdbrain.”
Why would anyone in their right minds
Want to know the time?
I know when I’m hungry
That’s the time I’m hungry
I know when I’m sleepy
That’s the time I’m sleepy
What do I need clocks for?
So I threw the clock out
But they came again
With a bigger clock this time
The kind which doesn’t fit in my window sill
So I gave up
And thought to myself,
“Well, I don’t need it. If it’s there,
Let it be.”
And so it was
The clock kept ticking
Tick tock tick tock
Tick tock tick tock
Tick tock tick tock
Tick tock tick ******* tock
Until the noise of the hand
Was written in my brain
In every song I sung
Every thought I thunk
I couldn’t make the noise go away
It was taking over my life
Telling me what we do
When to eat and when to sleep
And when to do the other stuff that I do
So I broke the clock
And thought it was over
But the world wouldn’t give up
They just couldn’t leave me alone
They came one after another
And put clocks in my room
Every shape, every size
Wristwatches, wall clocks
They even got me
A grandfather’s clock
Until every space inside my fortress of solitude
Was filled with tiny, ticking machines
And every cell in my mind
Became just like theirs
Now I’m one of them
And wear a watch wherever I go
I see the time before going out
I see the time when I’ve to get home
I know what I’ve become
I’m scared of what’s next
I’m scared of the time
I’ll have to put clocks
In the room of a little boy
Who’ll never be the same again.
Jun 6, 2012
Jun 6, 2012 at 1:34 PM UTC
I will never see yellow the same
As when I asked her
Of my favorite color
Truth be told, I never had one
She shouted with this flame
And in a spur
I bet every dollar
And she still won
I won’t argue or complain
Even when she calls me birdbrain
For I love her
Through and through
She has always been true
And I hope she thinks of me too
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 2:04 PM UTC
I scribble about planets strewing from the face
They’re hip-hop graffiti or spiting images of
exo-lifeforms.
Abstract wavelengths circling from heads
canvasing an earth unlike what i’ve
kaleidoscope before
You’ve s e e n it.
The face
The endless kamikaze from exoplanets
swaddling behind bulging eyeballs.
of supernova’s and B-72 solar systems
My birdbrain.
Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 9:50 PM UTC
Nattering **** head of negativity
Birdbrain, half-wit *****
Can’t count on to get on
Ever a nerd twerp blockhead
Braindead- can’t follow a single thread
Instead
Dance to the strings of your puppet poodle
You’re boring attempts are feudal
You’re as appetizing as a ten-day-old strudel
Square head, *********** yoyo, bozo
Backhoe cargo
Exciting as bread dough
Rising
Not surprising
That I’m so despising
You’re constant attempts at upstaging
Left me
Utterly disengaging
Your raging
Left me
Utterly disengaging
Your blaming
Left me
Utterly disengaging
Your constant contradictions left me
With a drug addiction
I’m not blaming
Just saying
Praying for the end
But wait
Why all the hate?
What hate?
Isn’t the mirror
Reflecting the interior
Can anyone save me from my nightmare?
Scared
That must be it
I mean me.
Jan 24, 2019
Jan 24, 2019 at 1:24 PM UTC
toothpicks
babies
a closeness
to captain
birdbrain
hard-on
amputee
toys
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 10:06 AM UTC
gold of kings cannot touch it
their robes o' scarlet cannot match it
the wonder that is the flying goldfinch
that holds me in a boxer's clinch
which master craftsman formed this bijou
of rubies carmine, soft white 'n champagne,
its auric bands on wings of two
proclaims aloud 'twas no birdbrain.
Jun 30, 2021
Jun 30, 2021 at 3:09 PM UTC
The art of the
"FAKE" deal (according
to Walt Dizzy Take a Knee Sing
Matt Tilde) once again
as oft iterated in previous poems,
doth (soup pearly, theoretically,
and wantonly) appertain
to anyone (abstractedly, essentially,
and loosely translated), aye ascertain
ptomaine anyone can attain
driving a hard bargain,
(sans basement prices)
utilizing her/his birdbrain,
(which might be about the size
of a child size chill blain -
mebbe acquired during
weather beaten life
at sea as boatswain),
nonetheless for results,
one best ought
be without a brain
even if promoted as Captain Cain
Guru, cuz to become
star apprentice,
one must master
trumpeting as a certain
Don Casanova Chieftain
stealing the vote if necessary
and freely distribute *******
(as an ****** of the masses)
to silence anyone
that might complain,
thus sets the
figurative stage to contain
any potentially mutinous threat
(against sought after bounty)
also necessitates practicing
nepotism assigning coxswain
to an immediate family member
with a skull full
bone if eyed crackbrain
and when upon
wheeling and dealing
i.e. thee metaphorical curtain
call - pull out
all stops to detain
vendor even exhibiting
faux ("FAKE) disdain
for deplorable basket weavers
iterated by domain holder
ye wish to acquire
sought after envied goodies,
oh...and do
everything to drain
the patience of ***** who
controls coveted *****
calling for trotting
out "Stormy
Daniels" to entertain
and continue ploy long after
hated yuge, bigly, stupid losers
winning morons with
zero wind blown naturally
"FAKE" orange blond
wind blown hairm,
which constant induces
onlookers with eyestrain.
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 9:25 PM UTC