"birdless" poems - Hello Poetry

Heat beats down upon the street Birds too hot to fly, Blistered sand you cannot stand Drenched with sweat am I. Cows collect in shadow deep Panting sheep hang head, Goshawk flies in cobalt skies Hills of grass stand dead. Whisp of smoke, a puff of breeze Sirens scream in air, Running men in squads of ten Emerge from everywhere. Now the rising wind takes charge Runs with leaping flame Into crown of eucalypts To rage across the plain. Too late the tenders hoses pour, Too late the fireman’s shout Inferno hot has run amok And all control a rout. Generating mighty winds The fire charges forth Spiralling in furnace air To incinerate for sport. Vanquished men exhausted stand Watch with useless eyes, As raging flames consume their truck, Inside a good mate dies. A live thing in the burnished night It writhes and spirals high Across the flaring treetops Hot, red smoke fills the sky. As sudden as it starts, it stops A wind change in the air. Ravaged forest stark and black Hot ashes everywhere. Hills of cinders smoking now Stock in death’s repair, Homesteads rendered charcoal like Farmers in despair. A silence in the ravaged hills Birdless in the sky, Bushfire horror, death and smoke Enough to make you cry. Marshalg In support of my Australian brethren and their torched nation. 30 January 2013

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Jan 29, 2013

Jan 29, 2013 at 8:16 PM UTC

marshal-gebbie

Bushfire

Heat beats down upon the street Birds too hot to fly, Blistered sand you cannot stand Drenched with sweat am I. Cows collect in shadow deep Panting sheep hang head, Goshawk flies in cobalt skies Hills of grass stand dead. Whisp of smoke, a puff of breeze Sirens scream in air, Running men in squads of ten Emerge from everywhere. Now the rising wind takes charge Runs with leaping flame Into crown of eucalypts To rage across the plain. Too late the tenders hoses pour, Too late the fireman’s shout Inferno hot has run amok And all control a rout. Generating mighty winds The fire charges forth Spiralling in furnace air To incinerate for sport. Vanquished men exhausted stand Watch with useless eyes, As raging flames consume their truck, Inside a good mate dies. A live thing in the burnished night It writhes and spirals high Across the flaring treetops Hot, red smoke fills the sky. As sudden as it starts, it stops A wind change in the air. Ravaged forest stark and black Hot ashes everywhere. Hills of cinders smoking now Stock in death’s repair, Homesteads rendered charcoal like Farmers in despair. A silence in the ravaged hills Birdless in the sky, Bushfire horror, death and smoke Enough to make you cry. Marshalg In support of my Australian brethren and their torched nation. 30 January 2013

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A collaboration between Elisa Maria Argiro and SG Holter. Dear feather. You fell on my heart. I keep you on my person now; pocket held; An eternal companion. As beautiful as you, I remind my Thoughts to be. I wake up as Buddha every day. Peace is the corner stone of my breathing. Dear Last Crescent Moon, adorning Lord Shiva's brow, smiling toward Morning Star enjoying her sweet presence in clearest predawn light. She smiles too, drifting into feathery sleep. Birdless flight, unclenched, un- Clung to. With this dew drop in my palm I need no ocean to swim in. How can Life's castle, with its wars and Tragedies, hide within its Towers of Noise such quiet chambers? Paper sails, bamboo, emerald waters. Single feathers rest even when Airborne. From your outstretched palm, sweet taste of morning touches my tongue, oceanic dew drop sharing itself across floating time. An offering holding the last shining starlight of this new morning. Drifting now through limitless space, finding words in our common language on your yellow paper sails, we gaze down from these towers of our ancient dreams, emerald water below us waiting to catch the falling feather. Dear insight. Light as the wind itself, you Floated; fell on my heart. Merged with heavy memories Like paper balloons rising; Tsunami of kamifusen Render my whole being Weightless. Third-Eye-Hindsight sees me Remembering nothing with Bitterness. One or a hundred lifetimes Wandering. Finally now, Even waking hours feel like Dreaming. Dear Wisdom, Guardian Planet, Buddha's radiance shining. Thousand-Petaled Lotus is now your own effulgent mind. Smiling, eyes closed, feeling the glowing kamifusen of magenta, scarlet, turquoise, and yellow floating above us, we swim so deeply, diving down into these warm emerald waters, winking at the luminous fishes dreaming all around us.

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Oct 10, 2015

Oct 10, 2015 at 2:31 PM UTC

FrancescaRegan

Thousand-Petaled Lotus

A collaboration between Elisa Maria Argiro and SG Holter. Dear feather. You fell on my heart. I keep you on my person now; pocket held; An eternal companion. As beautiful as you, I remind my Thoughts to be. I wake up as Buddha every day. Peace is the corner stone of my breathing. Dear Last Crescent Moon, adorning Lord Shiva's brow, smiling toward Morning Star enjoying her sweet presence in clearest predawn light. She smiles too, drifting into feathery sleep. Birdless flight, unclenched, un- Clung to. With this dew drop in my palm I need no ocean to swim in. How can Life's castle, with its wars and Tragedies, hide within its Towers of Noise such quiet chambers? Paper sails, bamboo, emerald waters. Single feathers rest even when Airborne. From your outstretched palm, sweet taste of morning touches my tongue, oceanic dew drop sharing itself across floating time. An offering holding the last shining starlight of this new morning. Drifting now through limitless space, finding words in our common language on your yellow paper sails, we gaze down from these towers of our ancient dreams, emerald water below us waiting to catch the falling feather. Dear insight. Light as the wind itself, you Floated; fell on my heart. Merged with heavy memories Like paper balloons rising; Tsunami of kamifusen Render my whole being Weightless. Third-Eye-Hindsight sees me Remembering nothing with Bitterness. One or a hundred lifetimes Wandering. Finally now, Even waking hours feel like Dreaming. Dear Wisdom, Guardian Planet, Buddha's radiance shining. Thousand-Petaled Lotus is now your own effulgent mind. Smiling, eyes closed, feeling the glowing kamifusen of magenta, scarlet, turquoise, and yellow floating above us, we swim so deeply, diving down into these warm emerald waters, winking at the luminous fishes dreaming all around us.

65

You like my bird-sung gardens: wings and flowers; Calm landscapes for emotion; star-lit lawns; And Youth against the sun-rise ... ‘Not profound; ‘But such a haunting music in the sound: ‘Do it once more; it helps us to forget’. Last night I dreamt an old recurring scene— Some complex out of childhood; *** of course!) I can’t remember how the trouble starts; And then I’m running blindly in the sun Down the old orchard, and there’s something cruel Chasing me; someone roused to a grim pursuit Of clumsy anger ... Crash! I’m through the fence And thrusting wildly down the wood that’s dense With woven green of safety; paths that wind Moss-grown from glade to glade; and far behind, One thwarted yell; then silence. I’ve escaped. That’s where it used to stop. Last night I went Onward until the trees were dark and huge, And I was lost, cut off from all return By swamps and birdless jungles. I’d no chance Of getting home for tea. I woke with shivers, And thought of crocodiles in crawling rivers. Some day I’ll build (more ruggedly than Doughty) A dark tremendous song you’ll never hear. My beard will be a snow-storm, drifting whiter On bowed, prophetic shoulders, year by year. And some will say, ‘His work has grown so dreary.’ Others, ‘He used to be a charming writer’. And you, my friend, will query— ‘Why can’t you cut it short, you pompous blighter?’

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2.4k

Siegfried Sassoon

Prelude to an Unwritten Masterpiece

You like my bird-sung gardens: wings and flowers; Calm landscapes for emotion; star-lit lawns; And Youth against the sun-rise ... ‘Not profound; ‘But such a haunting music in the sound: ‘Do it once more; it helps us to forget’. Last night I dreamt an old recurring scene— Some complex out of childhood; *** of course!) I can’t remember how the trouble starts; And then I’m running blindly in the sun Down the old orchard, and there’s something cruel Chasing me; someone roused to a grim pursuit Of clumsy anger ... Crash! I’m through the fence And thrusting wildly down the wood that’s dense With woven green of safety; paths that wind Moss-grown from glade to glade; and far behind, One thwarted yell; then silence. I’ve escaped. That’s where it used to stop. Last night I went Onward until the trees were dark and huge, And I was lost, cut off from all return By swamps and birdless jungles. I’d no chance Of getting home for tea. I woke with shivers, And thought of crocodiles in crawling rivers. Some day I’ll build (more ruggedly than Doughty) A dark tremendous song you’ll never hear. My beard will be a snow-storm, drifting whiter On bowed, prophetic shoulders, year by year. And some will say, ‘His work has grown so dreary.’ Others, ‘He used to be a charming writer’. And you, my friend, will query— ‘Why can’t you cut it short, you pompous blighter?’

30

A birdless heaven, seadusk, one lone star Piercing the west, As thou, fond heart, love's time, so faint, so far, Rememberest. The clear young eyes' soft look, the candid brow, The fragrant hair, Falling as through the silence falleth now Dusk of the air. Why then, remembering those shy Sweet lures, repine When the dear love she yielded with a sigh Was all but thine?

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2.3k

James Joyce

Tutto è Sciolto

A birdless heaven, seadusk, one lone star Piercing the west, As thou, fond heart, love's time, so faint, so far, Rememberest. The clear young eyes' soft look, the candid brow, The fragrant hair, Falling as through the silence falleth now Dusk of the air. Why then, remembering those shy Sweet lures, repine When the dear love she yielded with a sigh Was all but thine?

12

Sun dazzling in the noon sky,birdless, the grass blades fade. A gloom In a warm pond, stands A lone sunstruck lily. Sun circling the hills and meadows. i lean back, stare into empty space. Pain "crystalline",Sweet thoughts-... entering every blood cell Within the depths.. there is a value of the things I know..i love, so well.

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Nov 30, 2010

Nov 30, 2010 at 7:18 AM UTC

r-h-e-a

ON THE HORIZON

Sun dazzling in the noon sky,birdless, the grass blades fade. A gloom In a warm pond, stands A lone sunstruck lily. Sun circling the hills and meadows. i lean back, stare into empty space. Pain "crystalline",Sweet thoughts-... entering every blood cell Within the depths.. there is a value of the things I know..i love, so well.

13

Words that once twisted on my tongue like dancers now stick, like sugar, to my lips sweet honey locks that trap the fire that eats me from the inside - a body, a cage, that echoes birdless in the night as I sit smoking out the nightmares that wait, like patent lovers, for me to join them

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Jul 31, 2013

Jul 31, 2013 at 8:49 AM UTC

emmaelisabethwood

Somnus

Words that once twisted on my tongue like dancers now stick, like sugar, to my lips sweet honey locks that trap the fire that eats me from the inside - a body, a cage, that echoes birdless in the night as I sit smoking out the nightmares that wait, like patent lovers, for me to join them

12

MALAKI My this beat wicked tone Slides against this winters bone Breath to breathes Shudders smokeless; rising Colapse C O L A P S ING Agreed to never meet here again... trample towards dissolution In the wake of Gods Light. Pressing palms center souls. Anger as our mortality adjusts to His adjustment. Will I be enough Dorian grey skies unhinged at the sound of this holy war of God less men search for another prophet Freedom from self, a unanswered promise in my heart, my own angel MALAKI freed only in Gods heaven. A Birdless man dies

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Jan 18, 2017

Jan 18, 2017 at 12:22 AM UTC

bp-fallen

Malaki

MALAKI My this beat wicked tone Slides against this winters bone Breath to breathes Shudders smokeless; rising Colapse C O L A P S ING Agreed to never meet here again... trample towards dissolution In the wake of Gods Light. Pressing palms center souls. Anger as our mortality adjusts to His adjustment. Will I be enough Dorian grey skies unhinged at the sound of this holy war of God less men search for another prophet Freedom from self, a unanswered promise in my heart, my own angel MALAKI freed only in Gods heaven. A Birdless man dies

20

A sound in the void, A birdless twitter, Does silence the sky, A word; just why You stand there alone, Kept safe, unfair, Brought yourself there, Just why, please not here Forced by forces, ****** yourself out, Doomed to ask me, Why, just see You lost all you had, Not more than yourself, Now stand there alone, Not much to atone Clouds are looming, Cliff is so tall, Throw yourself out there, Met the rocks, I fear.

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Apr 14, 2017

Apr 14, 2017 at 9:37 PM UTC

michael-shmichael

Dunno.

A sound in the void, A birdless twitter, Does silence the sky, A word; just why You stand there alone, Kept safe, unfair, Brought yourself there, Just why, please not here Forced by forces, ****** yourself out, Doomed to ask me, Why, just see You lost all you had, Not more than yourself, Now stand there alone, Not much to atone Clouds are looming, Cliff is so tall, Throw yourself out there, Met the rocks, I fear.

20