"fledge" poems
Coastline, rocky, rugged, proud,
Crumbling cliffs in ozone shroud,
Sun-kissed drifts of desert sand,
Golden frame of a sea cradled land.
Fishing village, atmospheric hub,
Brass band playing, outside quaint old pub,
Boats, all sizes, rest near harbour wall,
Wading birds sift through tide-filled pool.
Foliage explosion of a Cornish hedge,
Country lanes snake, and young birds fledge,
Ruminants, punctuating, quilted hill,
Buzzards soar and wise hares are still.
Tin mine engine house, towering stack,
Roof caved in, gorse and bracken’s back,
White clay peak, geometrical and sleek,
Earth’s riches gouged, canyon deep.
Moor-land, open, untamed, granite strewn,
Wild ponies dance to a skylark’s tune,
Tor and beacon, barrow and mound,
You’re in God’s own country, when you walk this ground.
Jun 10, 2017
Jun 10, 2017 at 5:05 AM UTC
You see, I know this guy,
with bright and gentle eyes—
sunflowers against blue skies . . .
A true angel in disguise.
He’s known since before he could fly
that he wasn’t like the other guys,
or the him in their minds, that decoy,
that never dreams of kissing a boy
for the purest joy. . .
No, he’d have to strengthen those wings
not to tangle in the strings
that sting, and cling, and sling,
to save his prince—
his king.
A feathered, armored knight,
he soars with grace and might.
In a weary world of fright,
he’d invite any height –
loyal beyond first light.
And you see, there I was, drowned in muddy water,
with gills choked on death’s slobber,
****** by the wave’s merciless slaughter
of hope, that bled and foamed atop the marauder,
and lost like the sea king’s youngest daughter,
I, a merman bobbed below the knight’s shadow.
He saw the faintest blush
of my lost soul and rushed
to grace me from my grave, flushed
and bathed me amid the rainbows in the waterfall, hushed
my toxic tears, that cursed and gushed,
and pecked my lips, as sweetly as a thrush.
His feathers fluffed, my scales standing on edge.
I nested in the angel’s white down hedge
till my heart and soul was nursed to fledge.
Our skin taught with tingly warm bumps, an intimate pledge.
I a he fell in love with he a him, and love became our kedge.
So you see, while my worries ebb and flow like the moon’s tide,
bringing questions of where a bird and fish can reside,
I trust in him I can confide, never to hide, but cast my fears aside.
We’ve already broken the surface where the air and water collide,
we need not the world far and wide,
we need only to carry each other inside
our arms, and together glide,
feathers and scales side by side.
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
Season after season.
I've gazed upon you
through my window.
I've seen the snow hang low
upon your branches.
With white upon red berries.
I've watched the snow melt away
to reveal new buds,
opening,
ever so slowly,
to leaves so green.
In early Spring.
I've watched all the creatures
hop, climb, and fly among
your branches.
I've watched the birds taste
your blood-red berries.
I've seen songbirds...
Nuthatches,
finches, and chickadees.
Come to the feeders.
That hang from you.
I've seen the squirrels steal
seeds from the birds.
As their little paws unlatch
a little hook.
I've heard the birds sing among your
branches.
So sweetly.
I remember when the chickadees
built their nest in you,
and then watched their young fledge.
I remember the year the woodpecker
came knocking at your trunk's door.
As he drilled his beak into you.
And made a hole.
After that.
You were never the same anymore...
I watched your life slowly end.
Another year.
Another season.
More dead branches to be severed.
Fewer buds.
Fewer leaves.
As your story slowly drew to a close.
Yesterday,
they chopped down what was left of you.
But I will always remember you.
And I thank the Lord for the joy
of beholding your beauty.
Of watching your story.
You have blessed so many creatures.
Including me.
Farewell,
Beautiful Mountain Ash tree.
Jun 4, 2017
Jun 4, 2017 at 7:30 PM UTC
I crave to be an owner,
Sedulous and true,
Striving to become a gainer,
Knowing exactly what to do.
The formula is to take a pledge,
To preach authenticity and be determined,
Steadfast with my thoughts that fledge,
No matter, to what we may be destined.
Ensuring a good state for the wage-earners,
By protecting them with economic shields,
Harnessing all my morals and manners,
Adopting legitimacy and making fair yields.
Civil service, civil trust,
Lawful endeavor is a must.
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 12:50 AM UTC
Coastline, rocky, rugged, proud,
Crumbling cliffs in ozone shroud,
Sun-kissed drifts of desert sand,
Golden frame of a sea cradled land.
Fishing village, atmospheric hub,
Brass band playing, outside quaint old pub,
Boats, all sizes, rest near harbour wall,
Wading birds sift through tide-filled pool.
Foliage explosion of a Cornish hedge,
Country lanes snake, and young birds fledge,
Ruminants, punctuating, quilted hill,
Buzzards soar and wise hares are still.
Tin mine engine house, towering stack,
Roof caved in, gorse and bracken’s back,
White clay peak, geometrical and sleek,
Earth’s riches gouged, canyon deep.
Moor-land, open, untamed, granite strewn,
Wild ponies dance to a skylark’s tune,
Tor and beacon, barrow and mound,
You’re in God’s own country, when you walk this ground.
Jun 21, 2017
Jun 21, 2017 at 4:21 PM UTC
A gate into the world has cracked.
Light flows into the youngs' eyes.
Stumbling using their large feet,
The eyases stare into their falcon's shadow.
Born into a world, born into their nest,
Along a cliff where they'll spend their youth.
40 days they'll spend here.
2 months they'll be dependent on their falcon.
The tiercel will be fierce.
He will protect his offspring.
The falcon will nurture.
She will feed her offspring.
But all must leave the nest.
Twigs, dirt, and dead vegetation,
No longer can contain the eyases.
They fledge until they're confident.
Avid hunters and brutal slayers.
Beaks covered in blood were once creamy young.
They patrol the skies as kings.
They're "of noble birth; aristocratic".
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 3:31 PM UTC
An iridescent celestial being
Anarchic yet effervescent adolescent
Frolicking freely in the omnipresent forest,
Like a breeze through the leaves.
Barefoot & star gazing — native & trail blazing.
Like a clever, fearless fairy exploring the faraway night sky,
I am the fantastic bit of magic on an otherwise static planet.
Bewitched by wild wonderment;
Coloring my life with the chaos of pathos.
I am the captain of passion, & best little hippie
On the mountain — formed by a volcanic fountain
That caused a panic on our little oceanic planet.
Dancing in multidimensional secrecy,
Past an unattainable horizon
Is where you'll find me — on the Big Island in the sea.
It is a true treasures
With impeccable weather & such mystic characteristic,
It's almost unrealistic.
So forget your whimsey Hawaii five-O fantasy
Tear a hole right through the sky
Arise, & fly with me on a real odyssey
Across the mesmerizing island
Teeming with undreamed of creatures
& seemingly endless saffron sand beaches
few have ever been
up to the
Vermilion rainbow plateaus
& sacred volcano summits
Amidst cascading honey suckled waterfalls
& streams of splendiferous wildflower meadows.
We can indulge in thousands of hues of bloom
Or retreat, once more to the oasis at the shore,
To stand hand in hand before the prevailing trends
Of a turning world; scattering brightness in the dark
Fledge millennium into an unadulterated oblivion.
Enveloping what is suspend in time
with a colour compass configurations
The universe, nearly legible expresses herself
Writing constellational scribe
elucidating galaxy.
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 7:59 PM UTC
Armageddon in a bowl
Thunder gallops, waters roll
Countless wolves howl in the sky
Blow down houses, growl and cry
Matt grey sky like old stale paint
Sobs like son of slaughtered saint
Weather wails, laments the day
Soaks the cliffs in tears of spray
Sky and sea both boil in rage
Tragedy on sand strewn stage
Scrawl a picture with the storm
Carve coast into madman form
Bitter chill bites scarce seen boat
Struggling to stay afloat
Placid place this never was
Peace, serene, unknown to us
Yet still we flock to headland’s edge
Gosling spirits here will fledge
Grizzled veteran surfer sorts
Breach the brine upon their boards
We stand rigid, bodies glow
Defiant ‘gainst the hammer blow
Gripping Gore-tex, clutching cloth
Cowering from the furious froth
Backs bent crooked, faces skinned
By razor rain and whip lash wind
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 3:49 PM UTC
Human is not humane,
Though he is in provision -
To fledge pride the nation;
Yet living with fancy own bloom on.
Others pine shakes not his vein.
What purport even defy thy majesty,
Ever eager find enjoying biting priority.
It is who ****** a gentle brain
Petty deed sweep origin blood in drain.
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 7:15 AM UTC
Death, thou was once an uncouth hideous thing,
Nothing but bones,
The sad effect of sadder grones,
Thy mouth was open, but thou could not sing
For we considered thee as at some six
Or ten years hence,
After the loss of life and sense,
Flesh being turned to dust, and bones to sticks
We looked on this side of thee, shooting short;
Where we did find
The shells of fledge souls left behind
Dry dust, which sheds no tears, but may extort
But since our saviors death did put some blood
Into thy face;
Thou art grown fair and full of grace,
Much in request, much sought for as a good
For we do now behold thee gay and glad,
As at dooms day;
When souls shall wear their new array,
And all thy bones with beauty shall be clad
Therefore we can go die as sleep, and trust
Half that we have
Unto an honest faithful grave;
Making our pillows either down, or dust.
Jul 15, 2017
Jul 15, 2017 at 7:46 PM UTC
They decked their bodies on the hexagonal stairway,
That primed up into the heavens of boulders.
Decked boulders,
Eyes from the dead shoulders,
That ran the dust of time and concern,
With double ambiguity;
That ran the cobwebs of melodrama,
Of Purple voids
And dainty scars,
There were just blocks.
There was no God.
No Owl.
No leaflet or Foliage.
There was just a dainty scar
That cervically opened
Into a white expanse of rugged and dusty fieldstones;
With the waves expanding their circumference
It was hard to keep the shells afloat.
Rosebuds, it looked like,
The little ***** that dug out of dung holes,
Everywhere on the white crystalline beach;
Rose budded footprints of an animaline saint.
It might just not be the little *****
Then the dust rose up.
It amalgamated into the purple haze
That became the tender feet of cupids that embedded
Their rose-budded footprints along the shore of the sea
Sea that circumference the earth;
A Chinese fishnet flew out of the foliage
That, that is drugged in a an embrace
Gently over the ocean’s tiny footprints.
The fishnet was not targeted or focused on oars
But it was the Oars
That roared an echo
That conjured a Wraith
With Ate by its side;
They roared in unison
In a screaming echo of the overdue night before.
One with desperate fledging oars,
In a senseless sea
And,
In an endless churn;
Then the sky drifted apart
To clear the grey remains,
That of a nuclear battleground
Of the last world
It skid along a steep drift
And found a purple pathway.
The pathway took enough time to open them
The dingy awls of ancient machine plates.
Entwined and unforgotten,
These had made a rounder depth into its omnipotent boulders
Than the mongrel-ic infrastructure of the present world;
Mongrels of a primitive category of potential.
The wisdom that was as ****** as
A bloated hyacinth in its first blossom;
It took a speck of a quarter wink.
Chaos followed obstruction,
And the dust jostled out in the jiffiest.
It was a strange new octopi.
With blades for pearls.
With fangs for lustre
With gigantic dilation of a black void of pupil;
How could it run through?
It phantom-ed the serpent in one plunge;
And a single spasm.
Then it exploded.
A million nebulas bristling with a zillion kind of rainbows,
Rainbows of hydrangeas in elixiric daze at the tip of each finger.
And,
Starlets.
Then it was all purple.
Cosmotic falancho on a curly fledge.
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 5:34 PM UTC
Spring's new leaves of brightest green,
shimmer like emeralds in the breeze.
The sky is a brilliant blue,
the backdrop for green trees
Sprouting new.
In the distance I hear a woodpecker
knock, knock, knock.
Upon the wood of the tree top.
From the old birdhouse,
baby birds fledge,
ready to leave home
their wings they spread.
The scent of freshly mown grass
and many blossoms
is in the air.
How I love to sit on my porch
and behold Spring's wonders.
Oh, such a gift is the glory of nature!
May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 at 4:29 PM UTC
Far in the Prairie, nearer the shadows of hopelessness
There stood a young indigent shepherd
Under the hawthorn tree striving to rich up
Through the thorns, where laid woodpigeon nest
With marks through his body and bleeding fingers
Hunger let no man ever to resign, commonly fathering blokes
From the thatched sheds in the village down the dry hills,
The hunter, left children with moaning paunches
Infant feeding from milkless, shrunken ******* he
Fears mostly to hurl rocks up the tree
Eggs might fall and brake on the ground
Time flows wild with rivers not come again
For he might take longer, and squabs might hatch
And fledge to fly away, and his kids might die of hunger as winter arises
Jul 28, 2016
Jul 28, 2016 at 4:55 AM UTC
you could have known me truly and the selfish promises I have pledged
but I saved you, I kept you safe, I kept you turned away from my edge
safe from me because I'm a dark fall not intended to fledge
I never intended for you to hear the truth in any of the words I said
as clever as you are you don't really know fear and it's reins
because you haven't hurt long enough to understand deepening pain
you wont ever know the corrosion of our own devices until you refrain
for as long as you can, only to feel them come flooding back in through every vein
yes I know the cigarettes are killing me one nail in the coffin at a time
and the ***** that's filling my sail is far too often unkind
and yes, every girl I've laid next to haunts me in the hallways of my mind
and the only blankets I can hide under for warmth have already began to unwind
so now the dollars fill bank accounts and wallets and pockets but not the holes
and they can't ever buy back the days of my fleeting youth I've already sold
the price of living it once is forever after feeling you've grown too old
and deep, painful regret is the last page scribed in every story I've told
but you can never keep close to you what you never really had
and you can't sit down with my heart, the child, and explain sad
and no person or situation will ever cause me to feel I'm truly glad
when every word given has only another misdirection of hope to add
you said you'd whisper love sweetly but you kissed me and I tasted blood
so take another day from me, steal my next breath in the rising flood
make the lowest I can kneel beneath you my bruised hands in the mud
crush the flowers, thrash the stems, poison the roots, clip the buds
angels aren't enough to lift me up from where I'm falling
heaven hasn't promises true enough for what I beg when I'm calling
for help, for sanctuary, for relief from the increasing burdens I'm hauling
and comfort lent is only stalling the demons that being me means brawling
You could have know me to the color of my bone
but I saved you
in every way
that I left you alone
Feb 7, 2014
Feb 7, 2014 at 12:41 AM UTC
on
albatross wings
i flew
inspired to fledge
and grow out & off
my comfortable nest
my wings
i did expand from small tight
to broad - broad wide
thanks to you
who signposted
my wild flight of fancy
who fed me
from their private stash of goodies
who saw me fly up on the edge
of reason on majestic wings
if but for
a season.....
maybe two.....
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 6:58 AM UTC
Eyelashes battle like trees for the sunlight.
Theres dust in your eyes and your swiffer just wont cut it.
Knowledge is amazing, even one byte.
It'll set you free, so flit.
Eyelashes calm like an ever watching storm.
Theres dust in your hands and its to heavy to lift.
Trapped indefinitely in a chrysalis form.
Waiting to spread your wings, now flit.
Eyelashes open wide like night engulfing day.
Theres dust on your wings and your beginning to emit.
You've grown to much, minuscule things cant block your way.
Freedom radiates from you, so just flit.
You made it, Mc hammer too legit to quit.
Your a full fledge butterfly, now do what you see fit.
Dec 16, 2011
Dec 16, 2011 at 8:54 PM UTC
Do not leave me child
Do not fledge and grow
It’s just my broken soul in your way
Crumbling soft and slow
The first moment I held you
Is the moment I let you go.
A daydream then my sonshine
My sonshine then her man
New love swept you away
On a sweet summer day
Suddenly I’m alone again
You’ve found paradise
In a pair of brown eyes
Place a banded promise in her hand
Such a primitive shelter
You carved in this heart of stone
Life etched sweat and dust
Blade stippled with rust
Furrowed deeper than I’ve ever known
Now my fractured heart
Is falling apart
As you step out on your own
This gift I never wanted
Now I cling to you so tight
With a ferocity
Upwellling in me
I’d rather die than lose the fight
But I have to concede
When you were born you were freed
I’ve just prepared you for flight
TL Boehm
06/20/2013
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 2:02 PM UTC
FIRST POEM FOR MY OLDER DAUGHTER
*She's vast and full
Blossoming like the tides high
Too perfect, yet soft
She is like a full fledge rain
Falling and brooding the earth
She wants to heal the world,
But in so doing,
She has to learn that she can't do it alone*
**she needs to balance getting a PhD and having a family,
The two must be balanced to be a full woman.
A woman must Create a world, A world called family**
Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 9:12 AM UTC
Where everything is Spring
And leaves are turning green
Secret gardens begin to bloom
Their scent mingling with that of distant rain
Where everything is pure sunshine
And their rays slant through the forest trees
And pour across my woodland path
I walk hand and hand with those rays
As they shine full fledge into my face
My forest path begins to end
And there is an opening in the forest
Leading me to a quiet, peaceful meadow
Where the flowers forever grow
They never wither, but take their growth
From the mighty hand of God
In the wind and rain
Sweet bluebirds and cardinals
Sing upon the boughs of the pine trees
Swaying in the wind
Morning glories bloom
And honeysuckles climb
And spiral and wrap their vines
Around the majestic trunks of the white oak
A little pond cascades and flows
Blue-greenish water gurgles and bubbles
Singing some sweet song
An anthem of glory
Where everything is Spring
Lemonade in hand
I half sit, half lay
On the grassy bank
Beside the garden pond
And read my book
A pitcher of mint or lemon iced-tea
Paints my harmony
Of life in bloom
Where everything is Spring
~Marian~
Feb 7, 2014
Feb 7, 2014 at 6:39 PM UTC
Winter in full fledge
The cats fur matted with snow
Even he seems cold
Feb 8, 2025
Feb 8, 2025 at 9:04 PM UTC
Sit here my sweet and listen to
The tale of love 'tween me and you
When I was young and small of frame
I felt no want for worldly fame
Nor did I care for heaps of gold
I had one love if truth be told
I cared for good most of all
And feared not pain nor funeral pall
I wished to see where good was done
I searched beyond the setting sun
I wandered until at last I found
The woods to be my hallowed ground
Beneath those boughs was my home
And there I lay no more to roam
I was content, it's true to say
Until I met a girl one day
She moved among the hills like light
For flowers bloomed at her delight
All the animals gathered 'round
To hear her voice's lovely sound
At night the stars would come from miles
To try and earn her radiant smiles
I was in love, it was clear to see
But could she ever be in love with me?
Then one night both long and sweet
I stayed awake my love to meet
She smiled at me when at her I'd peek
So I lay a kiss upon her cheek
Her stormy eyes tossed my soul
And so I played a bolder role
I leaned in for her lips so red
But her soft kiss met mine instead
That's the story of how I found
The best girl there is around
And when our young love did fledge
We gave each other a wedding pledge
To live each day in free bliss
And of course to often kiss
Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 2:36 PM UTC
Soul, don't slip through that windpipe
Soul, hang on even if it be on thorns
Though you bleed to find tomorrow
Angels, fledge his soul from the wind
For wind flies the wingless
Scatters seeds of men
Shakes marrows of old
When time draws close
Feathers on the quill sway
Feel of hair on the heads numb
and the bald heads run cold
Colored spots in eyes cloud
For wind flies the wingless
Shakes off hands of clocks
Skins crease to dry dates
You dither you wither
Then you realize
Those myths
are true stories, that grew weak
14th December 2023
Dec 14, 2023
Dec 14, 2023 at 12:05 PM UTC
Hath they quaver
By any other sway but West
To sunset
For its fallen brother
I would have taken
Far from mistaken
The beads of sweat from rest
Risen dried
Crackle bones lost milk of mother
And other
Departed as the bending sigh
The one that bred its daughter lie
So seed can bloom with mindful bride
Shed off the blissful slumber
Would golden blaze
Be unlike the brass war-chains
In low remains
Whilst weight shift in its wake
Tell moving breath
Out come its wealth
And not the founding of its pains
Slip from sightless
Gloss a cover of unknowing
Left bowing
No wisp of remorse or remiss
But metal shifts
And opened rifts
Divide an ocean outgrowing
Shards beneath
Emblazoned even if in dark
I shall hark
Precious dull that beckons breathe
Even if restrained
Will not let waned
How earthen dreams have left their mark
If I could see
Old ones with minds of gilded time
Would it shine
And make pearls out of shapeless sea
Take their age
Befit a sage
To wrap this darkened world with light
Safe walkway
Come by the cobbles by the days
And passing they
Make moulded casts of harshest clay
So must I
Wait then to lie
Once sibling star has passed my way
Ore-laid wreath
Weigh low my courage rash and weak
So bleak
Beside the timeless task to seek
Shores for the flame
Never the same
Like sands through spyglass let receive
Should they fall
In avalanche cascade their edge
A hopeless fledge
Understand a broken wall
Births fouled resentment
Doubtless consignment
The dam repent its burden baggage
Return
By rivers come a lightened sky
A catching eye
To spread the scattered overturn
Ringlets in the armour glow
Wind suffered gently blow
Witness resending wisdom fly
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 1:37 AM UTC
it's called an idea in jungian: collective consciousness, which is harsh on latin acronyms in freudian consideration of the id being added the α & β for explanation of κ... makes sense in cyrillic, but not in black sabbath's solitude of explaining the solfège (sole-fledge): rhyme and the acoustics of latin gave song, fully embraced by the english from latin... leaving the aspirations of the byzantines lagging behind aristotle to define what's grecian. chitty chatty bonk bang **** and a puff of smoke left by the cartoonish quote of the road-runner that came along.
Nov 25, 2015
Nov 25, 2015 at 9:52 PM UTC
Let tight knots in the heart
loose and shake down soft streams of quiet
to untie and fledge confined feelings.
Allow them to fly.
Take wing into a Now-land
of unlimited freedom where failure does not
apply nor is it found.
Choice is unbounded.
Do not expire before trying each dream.
Find fervent zeal within life's choicest fields
and pick all the love-seeds.
Tended and grown inside then watered with
joy, mood's fruitage alters
mindsets and oils attitudes for when once
digested folk learn to lighten.
Every life has great purpose which all, in
the finding may realize.
Humans are born to share love.
This is our true birthright.
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 4:45 AM UTC