Five hundred feet from Terrapin Point the Birdman stands with his bicycle.  His face as flat as the quarters he begs for, glares at foreign tourists.  Two boisterous parrots, Larry and Mabel.  They smell like tourists and change, and are footcuffed to three brass chains connected to his backpack.  A Muslim family approaches.  They want a picture.  Birdman places the birds on the hands of the smallest boy, and his mother takes a picture.  Mabel squirms.  Larry squawks.  Click.  A reward for their posturing, Birdman places birdseed on his tongue, and the parrots peck away, ignoring his birdbreathe for an evening snack.  The tourists clap and laugh at Birdman and toss him their spare change.  Birdman stands.  Waits.  For another family to pose with his birds.

Mabel licks her wings
and Larry says, "Picture pic."
Birdman stands alone.

Chances are, you're going to meet a birdman,
at least once, in your lifetime.
And when you do, you shall be captivated.

He will have a certain appeal,
a magnetic force so enchanting,
that you'll want to keep him, and make him yours.

You'll be tempted to spend fortunes,
to build a pretty little cage,
made out of gold and tears.

But be fooled not!
For he is nothing but a birdman,
whose nature is to roam and be free.

And at the end of the day, I find myself asking,
Why do we always want to possess,
when we see such thing of beauty, roaming 'round so free?

Is it the beauty we desire?
Or is it the freedom?

Winter wind makes it's way down this Virginia mountainside
creating the hum of bending trees
dogs bark at moving deer
light slowly leaves
as it nears closing time at this country store
wood burning stoves are stoked
and the small mountain town of Pine Grove
settles in for a cold night

One last visitor arrives
his quiet stride moves with the wind
I'm greeted with that childish grin
that never leaves the Birdman
he is James Dean cool
John Wayne tough
and Jimmy Stewart kind
his visits are like a good bottle of wine
always ending too soon

He winks and says; 'Goodnight brother'
then walks into the darkness
the Birdman left us this night
riding the wind to the kingdom he knew awaited him

i was watching batman (1989) and batman returns (1992)
today, and i couldn't stop layering over birdman (2015)
over both films, it was such a comedy, you knew
that it wasn't a serious engagement
in the role, i just kept picturing
the internal monologue -
the action scenes were already
a gimmick when in the birdman
the explosions start with the critique
of what people actually like to see -
and that critique that the joker
is no more a weird'o than batman
dressed in black leather / spandex -
i just wish heath ledger took a break
from acting, and they did the same
sort of film about the actor behind
the joker, but how would they internalise
the essence of the role: the laughter...
internalising a husky voice can be easily
done when the actor in a different role
can talk easily and speedily without that
haunting husky role of the original part...
but the laughter? it would never work,
which is why jack warned heath
about playing the role... 'son, beware
the laughter.' still, what an enjoyable re-watch,
putting over the birdman nostalgia
over the seriousness of the acting in the
originals, you can actually imagine him
going for a coffee break and taking a ****
when the original screening took place,
the whole: back to reality - it really amplified
the films in a quirky way;
and i still think the joker is the only
doppelgänger that can't be tamed: i'm guessing
because of coulrophobia -
and i could still see remnants of this mythical
doppelgänger on heath in the imaginarium
of dr. parnassus... the clowns are onto you,
you can't steal one of them from
the jammed mini or volkswagen beetle with 20 of them in it,
plus the crying clown, everyone's heard of that
one, they mime laughter, this vocalised doppelgänger
of a clown is cursed -
because unlike actual mimes they don't surd
bewilderment being stuck in a box, or touching
a brick wall obstacle... they surd laughter,
and they share it among themselves in a circus,
vocalising that surd is a curse,
since vocalising an actual mime leaves you
without the actual abstractions,
and from what i heard, brick walls are silent
like graves, unless of course you punch one
or smash a car into one.

outside his window they hover over

through gallows of granduer to endure

　

great wisdom comes from above given to him

through temples of fire long lines alone

　

Tyson was used to providing

learn to take each new day in perspective

　

never let them leave you second guessing

I must clearly confess

　

The birdman was a dreamer

a no it all talker falling apart at the seams

　

a closet king in a world so very mean

destined for soaring heights tonight in flight

　

there was a lesson to be learned

the birdman goes for a watch

　

chooses it’s greatest need watch as some may bleed

out of every circumstance learn to take part in the dance

　

super sized surprise through it’s twisted lines

look deep within my friend

　

columns of piers we shed a single tear

for all to draw ever nearer

This past year was a ******
Looking back, it kinda makes me wonder
How it came and went and **** near took everyone under
Its crazy out here and even though it was tough
I'ma run it back, this is 2016 Rap Up

Denver won the Super Bowl, Cam came up short
Leo got his Oscar and El Chapo got caught
They got mosquitoes with the Zika, so don't get bit
Peyton and Kobe Bryant both called it quits
I gotta admit, Fam, I get mad as ****
When I swipe my card and they say "No, You gotta use your chip"
**** Daniel, "Hamilton" was lit
Who let Kanye West get 53 million in debt?
And Rihanna went to work without taking a pause
ISIS popping and y'all worried about bathroom laws?!?
Come on, fam
How that sound?
So we out here standing up
Just so y'all can sit down?
Warriors went on a streak and then they got served
Panda was a hit and we couldn't understand the words
Huh, and Khaled kept snapping
These youngins keep mumbling
I guess y'all call that rapping
I've seen "Stranger Things", come on dude
Y'all out here shooting gorillas and punching kangaroos
Janet Jackson pregnant at 50, dog
So for you ol' broads, there might be some hope for y'all
I ain't throwing shade, it ain't that deep
**** I don't want nobody out here ******* with me in these streets
Then Birdman ran up on Charlamagne
And Lil' Wayne still not 'puttin' respect on his name'
Michael left Kelly trying to get paid
But the world stopped when Beyonce dropped Lemonade
She slayed, and over-shared
And ya'll still trying to find out about 'Becky with the good hair.'
As far as questions, I got one
"Hey Hov and B, is y'all finished or is y'all done?"
Son, I don't know if it was fake
I know KD did the running man challenge all the way to Golden State
The whole year made no sense
Dog, we live in a world without Muhammad Ali and no Prince
Then Gucci came home
And he looked so different y'all was like, "naw, that's got to be a clone"
Y'all was glued to y'all phones
And LeBron got it done for the Cavs and brought the chip back home
Snapchatting all over the place
I swear to God, if I see one more girl with a dog on her face
It was a sad year for sure
Instead of being woke though
Y'all wanted to play Pokemon Go!
And rap got weird, should we be concerned?
Young **** in a dress, Yung Joc got a perm
And everybody was in the Presidential race
Ryan Lochte, Oh he gets the Michael Phelps' face
Game and Meek beefing, Hillary and Trump
Kap took a knee, T.I., Brad Pitt got dumped
And Trump said he going to build a wall on the border
Ya'll will probably go to flip bottles water
The snow storm had the East underground
The kept shooting black men but wouldn't shoot killer clowns
They kept telling us to use our voices
Knowing **** well they ain't really give us no choices
Get an iPhone with no headphone cord
Or get a Galaxy and go and meet the Lord
See they go low, and we go high
You only got two friends. Why you trying to go Live?
I'ma miss the Obamas, I don't wanna see them go
My prayers to everyone that we lost in Orlando
The Oscars were so white they had to get Chris Rock
And the album of the year had to be Anderson.Paak
Cubs finally Won, Usain was on fire
Melania Trump hired the wrong ghostwriter
I'm petty with the manners
'Cuz I think Kim K. got robbed by Joanne the Scammer
Ooouuu
Biters keep testin' me
They making rappers, but they ain't got the recipe
Huh, Yeah that's facts
Shout to Young M.A. for bringing New York back
And I hear y'all talking about "Kanye is fine"
Well to us it look like Kanye done lost his mind
Cowboys kept ballin', them boys in the zone
Bryson Tiller came along, kept telling us "Don't"
I'm highly favored
I clap back on my haters
I be the beans, greens, potatoes, tomatoes
The mannequin challenge, oh, that's how y'all feel?
The World moving dog, we can't just stand still
Beyonce made sure y'all got in formation
One time for Phife Dawg from the Zulu Nation
Did Drake bag J.Lo? I say kinda
But y'all was all up in arms over Rob and Chyna
And that's a new level of female pimping
Biggest L of the year goes to Hillary Clinton
You ask me, man, I thought she had it made
You ask me now, ****, I think we all got played
Another sign of the times
And now the whole World laughing at us, sounding like ChewbaccaMom
2016 was a bully and a punk
On top of that, now we gotta deal with Donald Trump?
Pardon me, as I vent
Bro, we made a reality star the President
And that just makes me sick
Talking about, "We gotta give him a chance." Naw
I ain't got to give him ****
It's going to be hard to cope
Because you can't have progress, dog, if you don't have hope
More pros, less rookies
And if America's ours, how we let it get grabbed by the *****?
They say I sound mad, off the cuff
Oh, I sound mad? Y'all don't sound mad enough
So from here on out, we gotta set the tone
Y'all protect yourself and protect your own
And way too many people got called back home
2016 you can go, and I'm glad you're gone
Felt like a long bad dream
I'm wishing you love and life, Welcome to 2017.

Skillz 12/31/2016.

There is way, way to much confusion,
I can't get my head straight,
is this just another illusion,
I think it's getting late,
you know we talked about this before,
talked about curbing our emotions,
or did you forget,
I must admit
I can't get you out of my mind
I can't get you out of my mind
  
isn't this, isn't this September
I can hardly wait,
I hope, hope that you remember,
it's been a year since our first date,
we walked along underneath the moonlight,
holding hands, wishing on a star,
I won't say won't,
I'm hoping you don't
I can't get you out of my mind
I can't get you out of my mind

Birdman - March 2005

Thump...thump...thump
capillary, vessel, anhydrous pump
inward pressure abounds
beat upon beat, heartfelt sounds.

Thump...thump...thump
guttural, airless trunk
chips down
nowhere surrogates sordid frown.

Pivot, about face...right...nothing
again...backwards...nothing
right face...nothing
forward...again...still nothing.

But there is always blood...
pumping... headwaters flood
pounding fear...
something... always lurking near.

As the root word is Latin
communicate... fatten
language of the word
rarely ever heard.

Excepting
idle transduction.

Talk to the birds.

Traveling into cities with strange names-
plane games.
Lame day-
The one in between the hotel and airport
In short, traveling away from home.
Roam- walking unknown streets.
Talking with strangers I meet
Down to freak and fly in my sleep
To the next town.
Head down on the bus that flies
Cut ties from connecting to strangers
in the mode of travel.
Heavy lust of hassle
Tassel on a suitcase
Made by a company based back home.
Can't be in the same place for too long
Built to wander,
Built to ponder the beauty of everywhere.
Easily done between towns in a plane chair.
Dare to fly; Take to the sky,
Birdman.

. and today's prime concern of the day? i can't access the recipe site for Australia's master-chef... maybe it's Australia, and their restrictions, or it's the ******* E.U... but... come to mind... last year i could access Eliza's triple-fried tamarind chicken... my god! they're going after restricting access to food recipes!

could i ever think any woman as being, "ugly",
neglected, yes,
  but... "ugly"?

              please...

  all manner of things become beautiful
around the mandible zenith upon
the grinding wheel of the big           O...

nothing quiet like deathly screaming
in the hollow of the night,
but some drunkard loser -
    speaking in tongues and recollecting
a myth of a patriarch
akin to Abraham...

'it's just the moon, you ****-face!'
   'yeah, and my grandmother sees
a Herr Tvardovsky in it from
time to time, riding a ******* cockerel!'

which equates to a banality of
two things (well, three):
  1. she shouldn't have been given
opiates during WWII to shut
the **** up, as a baby, so my great-grandparents
could hide in the Polish countryside,
i.e war zone....
2. i shouldn't be drinking and reading
religious text /
listening to Finnish folk songs...
3. about that Hollywood thing...
how movies are getting ******* and
******* by the day...
see... in philosophy there's this point,
not a Hegelian dialectic crap,
a Kantian coordinate,
a starting point,
   zee: res per se...
   a thing in itself...
          blah blah... noumenon...
i hardly think t.v. shows will reach this
level of "self-consciousness"...
i.e. will be making t.v. shows about
making t.v. shows...
English soap opera tide barrier...
but movies have certainly turned
to focus on this, "vantage" point...
the disaster artist for starters...
    birdman?
        eh...
               and like any cascade of falling
down from an airplane akin
to the opening image from
    Salman Rushdie's the satanic verse...
mighty fine looking up
and cackling while flapping your hands
in imitation of a Canadian goose.
ha ha ha... ah... **** never gets old.

The clouds whirl around horns of the gate.
The blush of the morning is tangerine
and gold. The blossoming chorus from the bay
for now is just silence, fog and a silver lining.
The cinema bulbs are flickering out.

There is Coca-Cola in my soul.
There is anguish in my bones.
Luxury paid for the tightness of my skin
and an artifice of love.
It blew away like dry grass.

I think God is a librarian,
crumbs in his beard, fingerprinted specs.
Cataloguing the hours I spent on my knees
his matinée idol, his evening sandcastle,
stones applauding his work in the Cali tide.

What can he do to me?
Witchdoctors can forecast rain from my guts.
A poor wading bird can fish me up
and photograph my corpse iconic like Evelyn Hale,
but that 'man' can do nothing…

I see the Island rising from the mist
like it’s throwing off its coat.
I’m like the birdman, in my way.
I’ll be remembered
flying.  

Perhaps I can even make it magnificent?
The boys on the boat will talk over their beers
of that triple tuck swan dive,
the acrobat, a harlequin that tumbled
like a shadow on the rising sun

Kamikaze, I Samauri!
The war drum beats, on, on but I’m done.
l am in the eye of the storm.
I am the harbinger, the horseman -
And the universe is a ball in my hands.

I made you up, I’ll rub you out.
The sky is holding the Sun and the Moon.
5am. Circling gulls. Harikiri.
Machinery rings upwards through the girders.
Equinox.  Tomorrow is untouchable.

you offered hope
for a new beginning
then ran away

you seemed sincere
sharing kind words
then ran away

I'll never understand
your  selected choice
you ran away

you gave no explanation
just left me here
you ran away

Birdman 08/28

I can see it all so clear
as the wind from the oncoming storm
ravages the trees on the Northern side of the mountain
as if trying to uproot them

I gaze from above on Bear's Den
as Connor Brooks tries to finish the mowing
on his 40 acres and Molly's cries for him
to get inside before dinner gets cold
echo upwards in waves
beautiful waves

The Village Market
serves the last few customers
before closing up for the evening
Birdman, Mike and Fuzzy,
all friends since high school
are stopping at the Horseshoe Curve
for a glass or three
while discussing their shared memories

and of-course
Sarah...scurrying to get the clothes off the line
before the downpour
unaware her every sensual move is being watched
by the unlucky poet
who didn't quite grasp the moment
and reap the harvest
that lay there awaiting his attention
so many years have passed


timing never was something that seemed to fall my way
always seemed to be a day behind
realizing what I should have done
the day before
most things you get over
most missed chances eventually dissolve into the blur of life
like a bruise

Sarah never dissolved
never blurred

she hesitates for a moment after picking up the basket of clothes
as if she heard a far off voice call her name

it's just the wind

My God I'm so lucky, I've heard it again,
waves slicing through, the clamor of distance,
so hard to describe, the feelings within,
when the softness comes through, I have no resistance

it is the clarity of knowledge, the soul of laughter,
caressing my heart, it rolls through my brain,
such a free spirit, like from the hereafter,
the Voice once again, feel my tachyons drain

the magic of wonders, the wonders of magic,
allowing the register, of sound to emit,
letting it go by unheard, would be tragic,
smoke fills the eye, of that one final hit

has this gone past, the true reason of life,
wanting the sweetness, to fill up my mind,
hearing the drummer, the marcher with fife,
I'll follow the Voice, maybe one day I'll find

Birdman 3/19

the eagle soars above so totally free
doesn't have the need to be attached
heart is open to every thought and idea
man does not seem to know this freedom
inwardly or outwardly
at least not on this earth
the mind understands this concept
and tries to build an outside world
invent a future liberation of the soul
can the mind be actually and totally free
free from dependence, fear, anxiety
conscious and unconscious
I have felt the eagle trying to escape
the boundaries I have placed
my pleasures my pain my fears
the eagle is fleeing and taking flight

Birdman – June 2010

Words disassemble, Words be quick,      Words resemble walking sticks.
Plant them they will grow
watch them waver so.
I'll always be a word man.
Better than a birdman......

Echoing through those electronic hills,
fancy gadgets providing mental thrills,
he seeks out a soul he's never before heard,
not one single sound, not one single word,

the mind was stretching out to find a clue,
of what should be expected, a sound so true,
when it finally broke through after a quiet ring,
the ear were astonished to hear angels sing,

a child-like whisper stirred visions of light,
leave the head spinning, the beam so bright,
The Voice that was heard was joy in his mind,
charging particles of dew drops, ties that bind,

never envisioned, no never expected,
scattering thoughts that need be collected,
knowing not where the next step would go,
The Voice speaking out, the words softly flow

Birdman - 3/10

He would walk to Bears Den when the weather allowed
when his old bones felt as if they could take the steep mountain road
he would sit upon the rock that faced West
towards Winchester
and here he would search for inspiration
despite the pain in his shoulder and knees
he could block that out long enough
to find a few words
the poet of Pine Grove
they would see him on occasion
mention to the country store clerk that
the old man with the pad of paper
was heading up the mountain again
no-one knew who he was exactly
or where he came from
they just knew he was no kin to the local folk
one Winter's day a few kids made their way to Bears Den
to throw stones off the edge
they found the old man
laying sideways on the rock
clutching a pencil
and on the pad
they read the first few lines of a poem;
'Here I can see forever
here I am above the fray'
He was buried in the little cemetery
near Unison
where the Birdman and Wiley rest
it is quiet there
the breeze is constant and the view is open
it is a good place for an old poet's soul
to contemplate his art

I can't understand exactly why
but every time she passes by
with her magic words that linger in my mind

though I have never seen her face
she takes me to another place
peace and tranquility are the things I find

I can only imagine her special touch
the thought thrills me oh so much
maybe someday she will take a second look

but for now I must bide my time
dreaming in these words of rhyme
and slowly turn the pages of her book

Birdman - 08/25

What lurks unknown in fearful fraughted towns
It flits in shadows watching silently
With dire eyes and looming eight feet tall
The birdman waits for you to walk alone
He slowly stalks his prey throughout the night
And never moves unless it’s back is turned
At first you’ll notice him just up the street
But by that time it will have been too late
You walk but when you turn around again
His owl-like face the last sight that you’ll see

Ghostfaced overkiller/
I put the sin in sincerity/
Cast the last million stones/
Let's rock like ***** & GOMORRAH/
Birdman, on the windowsill/
Launch a nuclear war/
Head on fire - NEVER LOOK BACK/
Running with scissorhands, blunted/
Wet paperbag gloves/
Chasing serpent tail forever/
So caught up in yourself, that/
You didn't notice the climate change/
Sweating ice in a feverdream/
Friends & family are gone/
You're all alone... THIS IS MANIA/
Shattered nerve clusterbomb/
My primary emotion is sadness/
Disguised as anger; explosive synapses/
Living in an elephant graveyard/
I snap like Thanos, and don't marvel/
Verse as horcrux/
TATTERED SOUL JOURNALIST/
Stitching together a forked tongue/
Forcing my demons to talk "normal"/
It just sounds so unnatural/
And the voices are NOT HAPPY/
I didn't listen for one month/
But prepared an epic mudbath/
Purification is a holiday/
Get out of rehab/
Go straight to the crackhouse.../

I'M NOT GONNA FAKE IT/
JUST TO MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER/
I'M NOT GONNA FAKE IT/
JUST TO MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER/
I'M NOT GONNA FAKE IT/
JUST TO MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER/

I'm a failure; thanks for asking/
Keeping it real is mad expensive/
And I'm broke./

Every young had a wonderful dream
to be the birdman of altacraz
And now with your friends by your side
you've reached maturity
And the songs you sing
are the ones before
By the station
your words were a summation
and our pockets were empty
Then you joined the money men
you had to have your belly full
until they picked your bones
as you count the carnage
unable to beat them

Fictional account related
courtesy one pink flamingo.

Aves lusting for verboten tweet
reed lubricious sin after giving
Twiggy another peck on the cheek.

Whenever this birdman
alone with his thoughts
(as they metaphorically
worm their way to my nest
of quintessentially straggly,
and uncombed matted hair),
I doth twitter tomb
eye self unbeknownst that
a flock of seagulls fly
like an eagle twittering

morning mister magpie
while dipping and diving
on peregrine wings fluttering
at the speed of sound owls
watching without giving hoot
unless aware someone maliciously
poisoning pigeons in the park,
(one doubting thomas - leering)
perhaps a lunatic ranting and raven
whooping crane like, whooshing

to rise like a Phoenix, yet grudgingly
accepting fate as a stool pigeon,
even settling with destiny
as the cutty wren, a lark
ascending, pontification asper
observations of a crow keeping beak
clamped shut surreptitiously scrutinizing
the ostrich (with her/ his head
buried in the sand), or noticing
how the sparrow looks up

at the machine, which appears
to by an audio device issuing
the thieving magpie overture
alight with such braggadocio
and effecting a birds eye view
of determining contrasted
with the ugly duckling left friendless
and instantly bringing to mind
that somber tune when doves cry
setting the impossible to shake off

feeling emotionally caged,
though with utmost exertion muster
humming when the red red robin
comes bob bob bobbin along eager
to join a whir thee claws such
as when the swallows come back
from Capistrano (with an un spa
beak able aromatic deliciously
decadent Reuben manwich –
an American hot sandwich
composed of corned beef, Swiss cheese,

sauerkraut, and Russian dressing,
grilled between slices of rye bread)
interestingly enough the vicinity
wheresoever eagles gather
all the while wondering
if woody woodpecker, now a free bird
(after aphid david imbroglio) –
an accusation where plaintiff
accused of feathering the nest -
did tern out favorable, or whether

the filed aphid dove hid –
juiced when the believed
by this American avocet and done,
an unexpected eggs add jure
rated claim fed the media,
and seedy shenanigans
Toucan entire troops of Archaeopteryx
to placate all parties concern,
that **** er end
finally delivered peace plover.