"peregrine" poems
May I present a challenge?
Imagine if you will
You have created a flying explosive device
And it needs a name that will thrill.
A name, a good name, which name?
Well, none of those below.
Some twisted suits have already used them.
**** EVEN Tacit Rainbow.
What really goes through their minds?
As they sit and discuss the name
Of their creation that's destined to ****
Butcher, destroy and maim.
Just try if you can
To read the whole of this edited list
Imagine how many have exploded of each
With out angrily clenching your fist
Little John
Honest John
Hellfire
Matador
HARM
Terrier
Nike-Ajax
Corporal
Sea Sparrow
Redstone
Bullpup
Mace
Nike-Hercules
Regulus II
Atlas
Thor
Lacrosse
Jupiter
Quail
Hawk
Tartar
Falcon
Polaris
Hound Dog
Pershing
Entac
Firebee
Shelduck
Jayhawk
Cardinal
Firefly
Petrel
Redhead/Roadrunner
Redeye
Mauler
Skybolt
Nike Zeus/Spartan
Condor
Phoenix
Typhon MR
Falconer
Overseer
Taurus
Kingfisher
Cardinal
Walleye
Hornet
Maverick
Big Q
Minuteman
Blue Eye
Viper
Firebolt
Bulldog
Harpoon
Focus
Perseus
Firefly
Stinger
Compass Dwell
B-Gull
Agile
Seekbat
Delta Dagger
Thunderbolt[7]
Patriot
Aquila
Teleplane
Streaker
Tomahawk
Firebrand
Roland
Peacekeeper
Penguin
Pave Tiger/Seek Spinner
Sidearm
Skipper
Wasp
Sea Lance
Ripper[7]
Trident II
Midgetman
Tacit Rainbow
Pave Cricket
Have Nap
Peregrine
Exdrone
Javelin
Pointer
Hunter
Coyote
Skeeter
Outlaw
Wow, you're still reading
And you've managed not to throw up.
Just wondering how many innocent victims
Of a tax funded device called Bullpup.
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 7:00 PM UTC
Tight roping the catwalk of life's hopes and dreams
I tiptoe through trying to avoid hurting myself upon
Jagged pieces of broken glass
Obstacles to my aims and desires
Atop the saffron walls of my blue sky thinking.
From here I could allow myself to fall into blackness
containing all possibilities
Or stay safe aloft and on high
Continuing to follow my narrow path
My feet tire of this peregrine journey
And yearn to search for colours new
To allow myself to pass through deepest black
Through to purest white
And enter the rainbow
Where in life's spectrum
All souls glow within its flow.
Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 12:09 PM UTC
Spirits come wearing feathers
guides watching for our changes
teaching our spirits to fly and soar
despairing of those who fade
Five peregrins flew over our head
two parents cutting the still water with speeding wings
three young trying to mimic
two fly straight up the cliff face
the young left right splitting
knowing they have to learn
but still afraid
knew what that meant sure enough
saw a peregrine take a big crow in flight
off Tresillian cove
the crow desperately fought for its life
they both crashed into the sea
the falcon flew up and away
the crow was drowning
upside down
I was praying
one supreme effort and it got airborne
flew to the shore
I am still trying
Jan 29, 2011
Jan 29, 2011 at 4:49 PM UTC
Mother, I won't go to America
I don't want to work the desk job in the high-rise
at the edge of the city, waking the nights nesting code.
Mother, I can't buy you the dream home.
This is how I am. This is who I've become.
I weave a nest for the birds of dreams
to roost in my soul. I'm a poet. I'm peregrine.
When I come home, can I sit by your side
and not talk? Not talk of marriage and children
and property and bank balance?
I folded my kites up and my boomerangs
and studied the nights. The glass filings
on the manja cut sores in my heart but I succeeded,
through university and adversity.
But this is who I am: a poet.
I weave a fabric and print tales of shadow and light.
Here, they come to roost, the birds peregrine.
I don't come home to eat what you cook.
I don't come home to hear about struggles and
disappointments. Yes I have failed in some sense.
But there is so much to say that is better said unsaid.
But this is who I am: a poet. I'm peregrine.
Can I just come home and sit by your side at sunset?
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 7:29 AM UTC
*you have wandered into my heart
without wiping your feet,
and have planted your garden
with some peregrine seed,
uprooting suspicion to feed the roots you know i need.
not the slightest premonition
hinting at this fires ignition,
with harmonies conspicuous,
it brought me to a full fruition.
you make me become me,
scraping tar from ancient condition
a reassessment of the needs,
a very natural division.
and though many of my deeds,
however morbid they may be
fade from your conscious recognition;
oh my true soul, you've made free.
so you may walk upon my heart.
tread heavily, with boots of lead,
for you have become the reason
for it to even bother to beat.*
Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 11:53 AM UTC
Bellicose angels chanter,"Never
Was and never more," upon
The totian breeze with clarity of peace;
A peregrine requitement of
Effulgent obsequies, tempered
With melancholy tortuously
Fetching lost codices whilst
Careening stars-of-Bethlehem
Nonchalantly whithersoever,
A parable of presence
A dirge paramount; perdurable
To the transcription of the
Orderliness Of Orcus'- unabridged,
The final heavenly sonnet.
ELEETE J MUIR.
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 8:31 AM UTC
Pink Muhly blushing in the April winds , White Dogwoods tell
of their direction as cloud cover divides the storm tempted distance .. Native grass sash shays across the motherland dale , seedlings ride the afternoon whispers , boldly appear from her earthly protectorate , epochs born of magenta horizons and Peregrine ballads ...
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 11:45 PM UTC
Dear porcelain, would I were perfect as you art,
Not in dull translucence do you shine,
Gleaming brilliance cloaked yet unmarred,
Mirror mirror of conscious dreams of mine.
The distant chime, chime of deathly knells,
Of shattered pebbles down scented lunar peaks,
Of soft crystal frost into the veil they fell,
Let my masks abscond, leaving eyelids weak.
Such sweet ache plagues my nightly mares,
Loveless lone splendor beneath blacken skies,
Nap 'tween the orchards ripe with pears,
Awakenings torn asunder the happy lies.
Sail-less ketch off candle-lit cavern shores,
Colossal etched symbols of Hecate's spells,
Till desire and woe to oblivion they soar,
Will gladly blunder through all seven Hells.
Absent from day's eye are the auric beams,
Silent be the hymn from above, off-tune flutes,
In motion I stand in fear of reluctant dreams,
Wounded peregrine looking at the open blues.
Oct 10, 2010
Oct 10, 2010 at 3:01 PM UTC
she was a peregrine
& appeared to me
shimmering in the
primordial morning
between purgatory & hell
talons like a crucial valve-handle
carrying me outside the gaudy dream
my heart's vagrancy
the latent tendency i had
of putting chemicals into my body
despite the ugly consequences
one man's poison
another man's high
now sunlight fractures into spectra
wind blows thru century-old oaks
becomes tangled in my
nipple-length blond hair
as we march hand-in-hand thru
these narrow streets
the pinched labyrinth
the last dusk light
this swamp
she was a peregrine
the hungarian turul
genteel brown eyes watching me
howl at the midnight moon
& yip like a fox at the first dawn light
now she shares her own
breathy yelps with the pillow
like fumes of lavender
sprayed in a strand of oaks
i know for a fact she has claws
she swore she'd never use them to hurt me
but sometimes i let her anyway
i need to feel those
dead fingernails buried
in my living shoulder-blades
propelling me into a new kind of manhood
redeeming my weaknesses
weaseling into my shorts
pains & insecurities
melting like cloud's spit down the windowpane
lazy & safe on a warm sunday
morning wrapped together in the skin
of this gyrating palace
this is no longer casual desire:
joni mitchell sound-tracked
our first makeout sesh
as stars bloomed fat
behind a surly multitude of clouds
over a tar-colored lake
so if you think i'm ever letting her go
you're a *******
pants-on-fire
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 3:48 PM UTC
In one of those uncertain places
with the sunlight holding me in her arms
I drifted, wandering, looking for me
without him
Remembering my father’s
visit on the ceiling of my room
to tell me that my philosophies are true
the weight of his spirit lifted my lungs
To inhale, and more importantly
exhale
to let it go
oppression, fear and timidity go
Drifting, more drifting
the sun nudged my eyes open
to receive this gift she offered me
suspended in air, transforming all things
Sweeping in from the east
wings open wide, effortless sailing
towards my skyscraper window
we stilled the dust, stilled the blinking
As her shadow passed over and
her eyes flew into-becoming my soul
this is how it feels when your
totem animal is revealed
and your spirit is outside of your body
touching and not touching the ground
each step you take guided by her,
a white cane for your sightless eyes
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 12:45 PM UTC
take me on a journey there
and tell me what you see
I see trees of falling bark around
and shores of golden sea
I will take you on a journey here
through the hills of my Vermont
where the crystal waters
run so clear
and my ancestors still haunt
I see mountains tall and proud shimmering in a blue
I see fields of rolling shade
and some sleeping kangaroo
I see moths- the rarest kinds
and these birds of many feather
I see mountains verdant green
and this gorgeous summer weather
I fly with noisy lorikeet
and swim in coral reef
and walk 'twixt ancient eucalypt
to view the sandy beach
I land with Peregrine Falcon
and I soar with red tail hawk
I drift in summer breezes here
and with the animals
I talk
I walk through shady leafy glens
and I tread the reddened Earth
while I listen as the lybirds sing
to state my futile worth
I dream of sweet tomorrow's near
in the clouds of purest white
I hike in ferny glens here too
and fly a homemade kite
I stand beneath the winter here
in the clearest skies above
and I trace the stars my future now
in hopes I find true love
I stand in brilliant honey rays
in days of solstice long
I sing to love ~ oh far away
that he too hear my song
and hear I do,
a song from you
that skipped across the stars
your day-
my night,
we must take flight
beyond the Sun,
the moon and stars
out to the Milky Way
I'll come along with you
our maiden flight
in love and light
to find a love that's true
David Hewitt & Ma Cherie
© July 2017
Jul 20, 2017
Jul 20, 2017 at 8:21 AM 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
I thought you were my life. I grew my life around this life.
You and them were all I had.
Lost home when voice broke,
now this wind that scatters all -
peregrine again.
How do I start anew? What part of me do I say is not me
now and where do I find the I was before us?
What part of the mist
is mountain-tears and what part
the last monsoon cloud?
The heart is a hollow of the bowl-song, an unrung peal
of the untolled bell, sullen tree laden with loss
First snow of deep night,
silence has a colour now -
a hue called longing.
But I must let go. Transitory, the joys of our life, like
the distant lights disappearing at dusk behind the hills
Go, larks, speeding east -
all my ***** loves set free,
now rises the truth.
I was free, always free. The receptacles are gone, but love
finds new vessels, new vehicles.
Emptiness is full:
the shell has all the colours -
gone the jezebels
but still rich the air in hues
that more can dip in and drink
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 12:29 PM UTC
Sometimes I can't see past the shadows in the trees.
Sometimes I don't notice the song that lies within me.
Sometimes the sun looks down and hits me in the eye.
Blinding me from everything important in my life.
When hope flies away like a peregrine.
And out of your reach because you cannot fly.
And when the nightmares come in the darkness oh oh oh oh
Open your eyes and believe
You will be stronger than
All of the darkness in
the world you live in now
don't let yourself fall down
Don't give up on life now
Never let hate prevail
Just let your heart go free
Sometimes life won't let you choose who you're meant to be
Sometimes it takes a choice before you're truly free.
Sometimes you have to let your heart show you the way.
And let your spirit soar out of the past into today.
When hope flies away like a peregrine.
And out of your reach because you cannot fly.
And when the nightmares come in the darkness oh oh oh oh
Open your eyes and believe
You will be stronger than
All of the darkness in
the world you live in now
don't let yourself fall down
Don't give up on life now
Never let hate prevail
Just let your heart go free
Sometimes my heart goes cold,
But I look up to the sky,
the clouds there are fearless
And never afraid to cry.
You will be stronger than
All of the darkness in
the world you live in now
don't let yourself fall down
Don't give up on life now
Never let hate prevail
Just let your heart go free
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 9:56 PM UTC
Aspen, ponderosa pine, blue spruce
pink glacier-cut rock, scree, ravens
gray jay, peregrine falcon, hawk.
We climb to 11,000 feet in three days,
camp at Lawn Lake for three days. Alpine
tundra. Elk, bighorn sheep, marmot.
Tileston Meadows, ticks in grass,
rock face of Mummy Mountain.
Binoculars show pink cracks in gray rock.
Stoke gas stoves, play cards.
Boil water, set up tarps, lay out
sleeping bags, hang bear bag.
Watch crescent moon slice into
Fairchild Mountain. Moonlight
makes a mosque of the rocks.
Yellow aspen splash in dark green
spruce and pine. Gullies where streams
slash during spring snowmelt.
One rock, feather or flower worth
more than money. Need no wallet,
keys. Just clothes for fur.
All day climb toward saddle to see
what's on other side. One hawk floating
among bare peaks and over valleys.
Wind at 13,000 feet
turns to sleet. Turn back from peak,
take boulders two at a time down.
Winter moves into mountains.
Then we fly from Denver to New York
where it's still summer.
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 1:04 PM UTC
A blinding reflection
of the sun’s light shot
like lightening flares crashing
against glass towers
turquoise blue drawings
of the sky in structures
with angles and boundaries
climbing high as its
architecture would allow,
thrilled by the terror
of getting right
to the edge
and looking down
was my first step
towards freedom;
towards a tiny movement
in a no fly zone
bent by dreams, purposes
and meanings
now those peregrine callings
and two flying together
are becoming human,
lit with discernment
of a third eye
and an aerial view
I step off the edge,
headed east
into the morning sun
like the hauntingly beautiful
songs of French monasteries
I see clearly,
I am strong
and my body can only rise
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 3:41 PM UTC
Rising guano smokes the white birds.
The North winds homing, ave, a long
Besieging sea and ferries the prince
Of waves pass pacific and the fair isles.
With javelin eyes, aloft, blue streaks
The seething air, headlands draft
Grave embattlements, red rivulets
Paint on the raining wing, black art
Ticks the tern, marked minions and more
Dread. Once you were a foundling
Dropped from sovereign doons, scree
Of sky, air of wizard, your image late
Spikes from the lake, taut talons train,
Your breast a speckled main, rapier
Of dreams, arisen, sheathed in stone.
In the frosts of autumn, leaves do tell
In storied colours, yellow and red,
Round the shores your kingdoms table,
Battle cries break, a silence of wails,
Though they fall they shall burn again.
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 11:52 AM UTC
sometimes i just--shut--my eyes
think of what could be
a brief instant of mixing--reality--
fantasy--
wings melting i crash--into the sand
the waves washing wet--over me
the sun is too--hot--hot hot
i can carry the fire--up
but i cannot put it out
in all my ice i cannot **** the sun
so i am building a castle--a sandcastle
with parapets and a gated moat--
i knock it down with a crash
destruction was my primer-book
cynicism my blue-backed speller
so i lock myself up--in my room
pretending to be named emily
in my flawless white dress
the old nickname e.d. is transformed
until i remember--myself--
i am not a doll
and i--am not--afraid
the world can be--irrelevant
i will not abandon life
****** half-hatched into reality--
lost in a foreign land unknown
a sojourner who has lost--the song
peregrine with a misplaced home
the repressed truth will arise--
i will find the beginning--in the end
i fly back up--fire in my pocket--
bid cheerful farewell to the sun
good day to the beach-grains
rebuilding the--castle--
it is only--sand--
and i let it stand
life is reality--what took so long
and life that is really happening
is better than supremacy unlived
and i get lost--in omniscience
looking--skyward--realizing
i am a--grain--of sand
May 26, 2010
May 26, 2010 at 4:41 PM UTC
Rising guano smokes the white birds.
The North winds homing, ave, a long
Besieging sea and ferries the prince
Of waves pass pacific and the fair isles.
With javelin eyes, aloft, blue streaks
The seething air, headlands draft
Grave embattlements, red rivulets
Paint on the raining wing, black art
Ticks the tern, marked minions and more
Dread. Once you were a foundling
Dropped from sovereign doons, scree
Of sky, air of wizard, your image late
Spikes from the lake, taut talons train,
Your breast a speckled main, rapier
Of dreams, arisen, sheathed in stone.
In the frosts of autumn, leaves do tell
In storied colours, yellow and red,
Round the shores your kingdoms table,
Battle cries break, a silence of wails,
Though they fall they shall burn again.
Jul 18, 2012
Jul 18, 2012 at 2:16 PM UTC
The primitive revision,
A sign eastward glistened
Glyphs beyond the walls we
rose in solstice greetings. Listen,
hear the swelling rhythm -
Peregrine crests are where the
seal is written. Our serpent's guile
had the children smitten, and lost in
the cave they're baited and bitten.
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 1:33 AM UTC
PEREGRINE
Swiftest falcon wings
keenest sight from highest heights
sky-diving arrow.
SWALLOWS
Raindrops' graceful plumes
swift wisps and springs arriving
two tail brothers' breeze.
CROW
Observant shadow
pies memorizing faces;
jet sharp reaper waits...
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 6:11 PM UTC
On the lonely road to Chicago,
I reach towards my passenger seat,
Open my pack of squares, when suddenly
I realize that I may have misplaced something;
I can’t believe that I lost my lighter!
Minutes pass and I set the sedan to cruise,
Scavenging the car seat’s abyss with one
Eye on the road, the other with peregrine’s
Vision, gazing for the sight of the red flint.
Where in the hell is my lighter!?
Cig in hand, waiting patiently for puff one;
A sign appears: “next stop in forty-six miles”
The road, more desolate without my sly,
Pyrotechnic, sidekick; How could I lose it?
I would do anything to have my lighter!
Time perception; out of mind’s reach,
Twelve miles away, eight miles to withdraw,
The car’s engine at full go, the road dragging
Further than the Lake Michigan shoreline.
I can’t make it without my lighter!
I pull the car aside, open the convenience
Store door and walk to the clerk with
A hyena’s grin and ask for the red bic;
On the road again, and once again smoking.
Ecstasy! I glance in jubilation at the sight of my new lighter.
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 6:31 PM UTC
Rising guano smokes the white birds.
The North winds homing, ave, a long
Besieging sea and ferries the prince
Of waves pass pacific and the fair isles.
With javelin eyes, aloft, blue streaks
The seething air, headlands draft
Grave embattlements, red rivulets
Paint on the raining wing, black art
Ticks the tern, marked minions and more
Dread. Once you were a foundling
Dropped from sovereign doons, scree
Of sky, air of wizard, your image late
Spikes from the lake, taut talons train,
Your breast a speckled main, rapier
Of dreams, arisen, sheathed in stone.
In the frosts of autumn, leaves do tell
In storied colours, yellow and red,
Round the shores your kingdoms table,
Battle cries break, a silence of wails,
Though they fall they shall burn again.
Jun 21, 2013
Jun 21, 2013 at 2:32 PM UTC
Am I a wanderer?
You would think
surmise
muse that
after twenty five
years with
myself I
would know
All I have
determined is
that sometimes
I lay awake
Like an alien
In my own bed
And feel the holes
worn in my feet
by shoes standing
too long
in one place
Maybe that's
my answer
or Maybe it
just scares
me to remain
where the
ground can
keep tabs
on me.
Because if
I do, then
Life can
Catch Up
long enough
to shake her
Finger at
Me til I
Cry.
Mar 2, 2011
Mar 2, 2011 at 3:09 PM UTC
You moved in like an exotic species
with high heel roots that just couldn’t
take to the concrete soil and
everything felt foreign as your
fingers dragged against buildings’
windows in a curlicue SOS
You were a misplaced piece in the
wrong puzzle box yet you still tried
to make your corners fit amongst
the scenery. You drifted from street to street
like an extra in a movie trying to find
your own spotlight
Your construction-paper elbows rested
on your bruised knees as the dusty
wind married your stray hairs to your
chapsticked lips – and beneath your
feet was a child’s chalk drawing with the word
“believe”
The pastel pinks and blues and smiling
stick caricatures were captured by
your wide eyes that dripped their
appreciation in two slow lines
The picture burned itself in your mind
and tugged your lips upwards as you
decided you wanted to thrive, to
truly feel alive, and to build
your own puzzle around your sides
Jun 25, 2012
Jun 25, 2012 at 2:42 AM UTC