The Big Little Birdie
All I hear through the songs
In that rhythmic tempo out of your lungs
Your woeful mourning and sorrow
Your elegiac speech of morrow
The same old lines in despair
When you sing the notes and share
The scented lyrics of lilacs
Your frolic is sometimes lissome sometimes lax
And those pop songs in mania
The isolated rhythm in echolalia
Your big heart pumping hard
Being entrapped hitting itself all around
Your gasping soul sweats
Still the same melody comes out of thy chest
Don’t shout; don’t even squeeze your scratched heart
It’s still the same song
Still people enjoy thy twittering
When you are hung!
Come and be calm on my arm
And I will play your song and will be your balm
Dazzle at my eyes with thy shiny eyes
Still I enjoy this line when it says:
“Drink to me, only with thine eyes.”
Copyright © Mehdi Hajizadeh | Year Posted 2006
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