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"kookaburra" poems
A purple sky gave backdrop to a web of stars. Fairies flew through the night. Waves of scarlet, indigo, and violet mark their trail. A dragon roars off in the distance. A wolf howls at the moon, And a kookaburra sings, Lending its voice to the chorus of the night. Glowing fish zip through the moonlit lake. Mermaids rest on rocks, Tails adorned with patterns that come alive with the touch of a lover. Their hair is done up with beautiful braids, Dew drops as bracelets on their wrists. A griffin lies at the mouth of a cave, Its golden hide tattooed with a delicate hand. Cubs learn to take flight, Dodging pixies dancing in the night. Young bear cubs run through the forest, They hunt out sleeping wood nymphs, Making a game out of waking the beautiful girls. With a whack of a branch the game ends, But not without a satisfying laugh from the nymphs watching above. An elf watches from above, Drinking in the smiles of the night, The twinkle of the stars, And sighs of embrace. What a night to be alive.
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Jul 17, 2011
Jul 17, 2011 at 8:14 PM UTC
A Childhood Dream
many interludes of laughter pealed from a jovial kookaburra who sat high on the elm tree's branch gaily chortling to himself as the dawning sun rose of such merry tidings the bird did bring uplifting was his joy ###### he'd given the new day a jolliness the mood of much glee making his chuckling tones the sound great to listen to enlivening the heart's spirits with a bright awakening call ever so happy in the morning staging
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Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 6:55 AM UTC
Morning Staging (Reverse Double Etheree Poem)
kookaburra war cacophony at dawnbreak who needs sleep not me strong black coffee please! long sleepless night behind me, longer day ahead origami cranes gather on the windowsill awaiting the breeze feeding virtual koi one of one thousand inane actions done this day sticky little hands ***** grimey, smiley face kindi good today? Once upon a time, So much latent potency In five simple words lay you, down thy head, upon linen cool and fine rest thy weary mind.
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Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 10:32 AM UTC
random suite
the night is                   still                      dark                        quiet there is a distinct                            chill                              breathe                             gently steams from my mouth                       seen only in the light of a poets tablet. the first bird is yet to wake i am alone in my early mornings prowl. too cold for the little grey cat and too early for the human companions, they all remain abide... cozied up and asleep as i search the dark cold                                                         night for meaning. in the distance the kookaburra cackle and chuckle             dawn has come...
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May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 4:03 PM UTC
predawn
it appears as though there was a coup, in kookaburra land, this morning. much fuss, and cacophony. as the brown and blue kingfisher clan, reassembled, their royal court. the big old king, uncurled his talons, unfurled his wings, gave one last, manical chuckle.... and fell from his perch. to lie still, upon the dusty, brown earth. shocked, silence for some seconds, and then... the eucalypts erupted into, (what would appear to the outsider); cold calculating mirth. as the young jacko princes, all began the joking joust for the top place berth. in a melee of swooping, chuckling grace, a contest no less, set to test.... mettle, worth and cackle call. each young bird, takes to the wing and flies into the maddening...and how close, how loud, how startling, they can be. is made known, by those, whose years, have flown. when all, is said and done. tourney overflown, feathers are preened. then the winner is presented, with opportunity, bold.... to nest the queen. as to the rest, they take their place, in the chaotic, cackling, cacophonous, kookabuurra clan nests. to bide their time, until, the next coup, comes calling...
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Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 6:11 PM UTC
coup
i have found a patch of quietude in my busy day and spend it outdoors. under a dovegrey, marshmallowed sky and with the gossip of two brown house sparrow wifes. i take my loafers off and share the fragent warmth of the earth with the colony of oiled, black skinks and the shy, baby blue tongue. and i sit on a log... and breathe.. long and deep... restrorative sighing. then appearing above us all, a kite or eagle, rides the wind in circles....perhaps... the baby blue tongue, is right to be shy... in the distance the kookaburra chuckles and the lorikeets squabble and people murmur and shout. too soon, my respite is over. then it is shoes on, and back to the computer screen and desk.... but at least i had a few moment's grace...
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Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 12:51 AM UTC
respite
5.41 is the time on the clock face, when the first kookaburra calls. this corner of the world, still dark and cold. but then i suppose, some poor sucker, had to get the early bird gig i just wish, it was'nt, the noisiest bird in the park. look out worms.....laughing death is on the wing. and thus starts another day.
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Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 4:04 PM UTC
5.41am
the kookaburra's shuffle, along the power lines like, wing-ed music, they organise and reorganise the day's riff. darting down, to pick a lizard morsel from the earth, recalibrates, the sound of maniacal mirth. shuffle down, shuffle down, hop across, and shuffle up swoop away, fly on in. all, accompanied by raucuos din. then they settle and they doze beady eyes open in repose. a pause in the clamour of the day's beat.
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Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 5:20 AM UTC
riff
i wake up at 5.41 again... curled up in my armpit the little blucat blusfully happy loud rumbling purrs assure me of that on my other side asleep with head resting on my belly my soon to be four years old son i lie awake in the dark smiling... surrounded by love and wait for the kookaburra's call
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Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 3:49 PM UTC
5.41 again.
the sun is struggling to meet it's commitments this morn and sits low on the mountain tops smudging the sky pink and charcoalred as it climbs wearily into the clouded sky in reality, nothing much wants to get out of bed the rooster only gave a half- hearyed crow the kookaburra's just chuckled and then went back to bed as for you and me still here away from home we snuggle down into tje warmth and take comfort in the childfree zone.. it is too cold to do anything other... until the sun gets it's act together it's snooze time , thanks to the ****** cold, mountain weather...
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May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 4:20 PM UTC
too cold, too cold
Kookaburra's, though silly, still course the sky chickens have wings but will never FLY SoulSurvivor
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Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 9:53 PM UTC
Of Foolishness and Fear
the cool air of the morning awakens me, bird's bustle and gossip in the first rays, of a new turn around, the sun. tears pool and nestle, at the bridge of my nose, thick with emotion left from a dream. devoid of details, but rich in sorrow, a hungering feral sorrow. that still lingers, licking at the corners of my mind. i feel a discordance with myself, sighing to expell this thing prowling, my breathe, catches on a sob. the kookaburra's laugh, jarringly close and then further away. i wipe at these tears, unbidden, unshed and turn? to find my grounding, my steadfastness, my hearts ease watching, he draws me to him, his lips,smoothing my furrowed brow, his hands creating an intensity, that is ours alone. we make, sweetness and beauty, joy and oblivion, before falling asleep once more.
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Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 5:48 PM UTC
oblivion
Jabiru. Brolga. Kookaburra. King parrots, Blue wrens, now black swans.
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Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 5:16 PM UTC
Southbound
I find myself waiting for it - the cackle of a kookaburra in a nearby gum tree; more a visitor than a resident, but welcome, always welcome.
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Mar 4, 2022
Mar 4, 2022 at 12:20 AM UTC
Kookaburra