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Bird Dark Poems | Bird Poems About Dark

These Bird Dark poems are examples of Bird poems about Dark. These are the best examples of Bird Dark poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

Wearying for you too

An answer to Frank L Stantons  'Wearyin' for you' as Robert Lindley requested.

Wearying for you too

I’m wearying for you as well
Each day is like some kind of Hell
I’m missing you with all my heart
I cannot stand us being apart
I want to be there, home with you
It seems like crying’s all I do

My love, I also feel this way
It gets worse from day to day
People pass me, and they look
They see I’m looing so forsook
They just don’t know how I love you
It seems like crying’s all I do.

I miss that chair, I really do
Sitting there, just me and you
With fire alight, heating the room
And you and I we seem to bloom
Oh Darling I’m so lonesome too
It seems like crying’s all I do

I take a walk in the city streets
I say hello to folk I meet
But there’s no life within my voice
I’m miserable I have no choice
Because my love, I’m missing you
It seems like crying’s all I do.

I go back home in the dark of night
And still I’m feeling far from bright
I go to bed, and try to sleep
As lonely night, it hears me weep
I lie awake the whole night through
It seems like crying’s all I do

The long night over, the dawn is here
It’s still the same, I miss you Dear
The birds they give no joy at all
This loneliness oh, it’s so cruel
I feel so down, I’m missing you
It seems that crying’s all I do.

I’m coming home, can’t take no more
My bags all packed, I’m out the door
I need to see your smile again
This loneliness drives me insane
I don’t want this I just need you
It seems that crying’s all I do

28 July 2014 @ 1230hrs.





Details | Prose Poetry | |

EVENING AND NIGHT

EVENING

Evening slipped out of the cave
Crossed the rock wall
And buried the city in soft kisses
Sun god‘s dripping soup
Gave her child a sunset glow
She went back to her cave
To sleep, to grow

NIGHT
Night birds on the prowl
Growl of dark panther
Unsteady footfalls of ghosts
Silhouetted trees
Cacophony of fledglings 
Snakes ripe with venoms
Green eyed owl preening feathers
Deep in jungles fairies play
Near a lake moon sneaks in
Embers of childhood
Smoldering in deep.


Details | Pantoum | |

WHEN I WAS YOUNG

When I was young and life was easy
I never thought but of the next day.
For the young, things can be so breezy
It is the child's way.

I never thought but of the next day
Until that day came upon me.
It is the child's way
And I did not want to see.

Until that day came upon me
I was carefree like the bird on high.
And I did not want to see
The dark adult horizons that would make me cry.

I was carefree like the bird on high
Only to be trapped by love
The dark adult horizons that would make me cry
Crushing me down from above.

Only to be trapped by love
For the young, things can be so breezy
Crushing me down from above
When I was young and life was easy.


Dan Cwiak ... written for:
Paula Swanson's Pantoum contest


Details | Ballade | |

Feelings at dusk

Feelings at dusk

I don’t feel sad, I don’t feel glad
It’s a funny kind of thing
A kind of mellow, easy feel
 Where heart does softly sing
A melody of life’s sweet bliss
As dusk, with sleepy eyes
Seeps in so very stealthily
Looking old, but wise

I sit, and sink into this dusk
As silence comes, so still!
And Sun grows weaker all the time
So low he grows on will
He goes to where he always goes
Each day when night time comes
And tells him with the song of birds
As they signal ‘day is done!’

I sit here very silently
As pen, it scrapes white sheet
And life seems filled with mystery
As sun fades in defeat
Then misty moon takes over sky
So full, and huge and bold
Another day has turned to dusk
Such a wonder to behold!


Details | Quatrain | |

Cawing Crow

In the night movement there’s a wary crow Straight up into the blue moon it flies high Cocking its flight to avoid its cold rays Each night in the moon brings a large crow’s sigh Elbows of their feet bend throughout the air As the bird sings, a gorgeous sound to me I can sense its flight near me, overhead He’s flapping near to me, but I can’t see Only if the moon is shining greatly Can I see, tonight it comes in and out But sure when it comes out of the darkness The moon only brings shades that are about Circling there above me cawing with joy Listening do I hear his great power Appearing now within the little light Dips down on me as I stand and cower Conquering my fear I reach for him near I hope that he comes onto my dark arm He does just that, I look deep in his eyes He swallows my heartbeats without alarm Now I move to the nearest tree and caw Allowing him to fly to high branches Power envelopes me, I seem to float I must leave him to the highest reaches Russell Sivey


Details | Haiku | |

Haiku Calendar

Haiku Calendar 
(January to December in the Southern part of the U.S.A.)

snow and more snow falls 
cold wind and more cold wind blows 
all branches are bare 

starving and weak birds 
a chill grips before sunrise 
fall from bare branches 

warm afternoon wind 
thin morning ice melts on pond 
a song bird is heard 

poppies hide in grass 
drink from early morning showers 
bees drink from open buds 

warm ruffles new weeds 
clover covers budding ground 
crickets find their song 

hawk hunts small rabbit 
green hedges give good cover 
blood drips on clover 

sun waves off dark soil 
flowers grow only in shade 
bees hive drips sweet wax 

in shade cow chews cud 
waits for dark to find water 
sleeps on top of mound 

east winds pull cool rain 
quinces bright hill flowers thirst 
streams roar then fall quite 

squirrel hides acorn 
digs hole at foot of oak tree 
barks at gray wet sky 

leaf fall from elm tree 
vacant bird nest are exposed 
geese sound over head 

deer move over trail 
fawns loose baby spots and jump 
graze on holly leafs  


Details | Sonnet | |

Feeding the Birds

My morning retirement ritual,
Provides breakfast to the birds on my street. 
Food for fowl, silencing bellies that growl,
Watching the many hundreds gather near,
Huddled together on branches they meet,
With a calm patience we’ve learned to revere.

Feeding the birds of every pedigree,
Flying things, all sizes, colors, and shapes.
Hungry beaks, vibrant feathers, sharp clawed feet,
Small Finches and Wrens, large Sparrows come round.
Harmoniously singing us awake,
Their only care: yummy seeds on the ground.

My morning retirement ritual,
Feeding the birds of every pedigree.


1)  Sonnet written in Anapestic Pentameter


Details | Narrative | |

Darkest Day

In loving memory of Silly

The ominous clouds brew, icy darkness looms,
Evil cackle flashes sparks of its menacing fangs,
Sinking them deep into my soft yellow downy,
Yanking me apart, leaving me naked and lonely.

I shiver, tremble and chatter.
Mama, mama, where have you been?
I look at my nest up in the tree,
Mama, mama, why did you leave me?

Gnarled tree branches snatched away my home,
Clawing, ripping and towering tall over me,
The fall - blurred vision of trees, terror painfully gnaws,
Now, only, cold and numbness as I cannot feel my claws.

I inch forward slowly to find a worm.
Mama would have picked some for me.
But now, I scarce can see no hope,
The bittersweet taste of the worm makes me choke.

Suddenly, I find I am nestled in a little girl's hands.
The slightest tinge of warmth delights me,
Gently, she ruffles through my scarce feathers,
Puffing up, I brace the changing weather.

The pungent smell of the rain stings my nostrils,
I chirp helplessly in disgust,
Tears from the sky pelt on me, lashing out angrily,
I retreat, sink back in, and cry along silently.

Her home smells of fresh toast,
Mine smells of juicy worms, but I settle in anyway.
The fall has crushed my feet in its cruel hands,
My feet are broken, I cannot stand.

For the next few hours, I wallow in misery.
She knows nothing about my agonising pain,
But fits me into a sock to keep me warm,
As I listen to the sighing trees mourn.

The sock begins to feel cold and icy,
I try to swallow the slimy papaya she mushed,
But in my throat, the concoction swells and becomes thicker,
Burning sensation, daylight flickers.

I shiver, tremble and chatter.
Mama, mama, where have you been?
The rain distorts my view of my tree, 
Mama, mama, why did you leave me?

Mama......
You guaranteed my freedom one day
You never said the price I had to pay
To never see another sun ray

Mama......
If my life were a thread, it would now have frayed
What little daylight I saw had become grey
And as I cuddled up and started to pray

Mama......
I became an angel today.


Details | Epic | |

The Stork I


The ship arrived surrounded by fog's dew,
his years she carried on her seaward tracks,
the wide upfront, horizon's line was dark,
- a stork he was, comradely to her crew.

(Thus, curious, he stood upon the moors,
projecting epitome of their rejoice,
and stern, the sea-waves' hum, repressed their voice,
enduring memory the dusk allures.)

A trenchant stork, with harbors in cahoot,
side-gazing for the sunken to discern,
Perceived the sea-men deftness and concern,
applied the color of night's darkened soot.

The dusk abraded then, the ship's details,
still numbness; maybe was the ship that stared,
as his persistent - curious eyes paired
with mind's perseverance, head-rope and brails.

Around the ship quizzical boats tripped,
like wooden cradles-coffins, they were stray,
companions lost beyond skylines' array,
sea's signalizing roar, on moorings whipped.

( Their sacrosanct ascent designed the stairs,
for spotless angels to walk amidst light blue,
like then the stork recited what was true,
- a dark night ship, for his bird's story cares.

And then they fled to skies - two comets' glows
that cut through distances, in ardent Spring
a song for wanderers, harmonic link,
- the emerald of Aegean shallows. )

What foolishness of storks, invites the ship,
stray souls to marry in night's ebon phase,
two finger-funnels tall, on skies to praise,
wraiths' upstage flight, on everlasting trip?

© G.V. 09/25/2012 All Rights Reserved
(Iambic Pentameter)


Details | Sapphic stanza | |

Owls at Night - Sapphic Stanza


Owls

Night-birds fly in wellaway Moonlit darkness
constant friends of sacrosanct ancient marbles
croaking nature's auguries, spirit's quests are
intellect's symbols.

Ergo mourning canticles pray to Pallas 
sending eldritch clarions' warning message
shadow hermits skillful and nimble hunters
glorify wisdom.

© G.V., 09-03-2013


Details | Free verse | |

The Humans and I

Ones who wage,
Ones who rage,
Ones who take,
Ones who pay,
Ones who craze,
Ones who rave,
Ones who crave…

Ones who fear,
Ones who breathe,
Ones who give,
Ones who need,
Ones who will,
Ones who weave…

Ones who plead,
Ones who beg,
Ones who beseech,
Ones who entreat,
Ones who appeal,
Ones who volunteer,
Ones who disappear…

The ones who follow,
The ones that don’t know about tomorrow,
The ones who don’t deserve the morrow…

The ones who sleep,
The ones who cry,
The ones who live,
The ones who die…

The ones who proclaim,
Those who say they create,
The ones who ache,
The ones who don’t wait,
The ones who hesitate,
The ones who don’t concentrate,
The ones who fornicate,
The ones who procrastinate…

Those who fall in temptation,
Those who get in frustration,
Those who sometimes feel desperation,
Those who keep going without caution,
Those in motion,
Those in tension,
Those losing notion,
Those being poisoned,
Those getting in distortion,
Those following the broken diction,
Those dying like the billions,
Those without unction,
Those washed in the oceans…

I might seem cold,
But it is you who is bold.
I might not express,
But it is you who doesn’t let me progress.
I might not seem like I seek,
But it is you who doesn’t know me…
I might seem like I need,
But it is you who might always be begging on your knees.
I might seem dull,
But it is the one that is fool.
I might not be alight,
But it is you who isn’t truly alive…

I will remain neutral,
I will remain silver,
I will remain gray,
I feel darkness,
I feel light,
I will remain hallowed…,
After all, it is you who deserves no life…

I am a metal hawk,
I am a mountain goat,
I am a silver bird,
I am a gray wolf,
I am a white tiger,
I am a mystic rose…,
I am I…

I’m alive,
And I survive,
You are here,
However, it is you who deserves no life…

Being human does not imply that you have humanity…


Details | Heroic Couplets | |

Twice Born

A gentile man of vivid dreams oft apt to walk at night
Followed where his feet would lead under the pale moon light
When chance he did into a grove of oak and alder trees
He spied a pool of nature's own fed by an ancient spring
There upon he cast his gaze beneath the moon so bright
And saw him something oddly fey revealed with second sight

At once belief that made him he who walked where others went
Faded in the mist of myth and planted there instead
A vision of a greater truth not seen, and yet perceived
From deep within the pool of being, liberation to receive
Reflections at the water's edge revealed his truest form
A life he's yet to realize, or a life he's lived before

For there upon this moon lit night, deep in that ancient wood
Where once there was an aging man an ageless raven stood
Twice born of myst, beneath the sky no longer bound by fear
He saw him casting off his flesh then soared into the air
He set his course by moon lit ways, a shadow taking flight
Till found he day light's brilliant rays that freed him from the night." 

                                                                   ~Christopher Thor Britt

The Everything Halloween Poetry Contest


Details | Rhyme | |

Green Spanish Eyes - Part 1

Ah Consuela! Invoking vast vistas for visions of green Spanish eyes, I discern them again where she left me back then, as we kissed when she parted, my friend. So I’m daring to tread towards the klieg lights ahead, where I’ll wait till I see her ascend. Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she teases the mirror with green Spanish eyes; Her serape entangles her ebony bangles like lace on the sorcerer’s looms, And her capes of the night, she drapes tight to excite, and her fan is embellished with plumes. Ah Consuela! I’m watching as spectators savour her green Spanish eyes; Taming wild concertinas, the dark ballerina performs on the concert hall stage, But she shies from the sound of ovation unbound like a timorous bird in a cage. Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she quickens the pit with her green Spanish eyes, As the cymbals shake, clashing, the floodlights wake, flashing, igniting the wild fireflies, And the piccolo piper’s inviting the vipers to coil in the cold caldron skies. Ah Consuela! I’m watching the shimmering shadows in green Spanish eyes As I rise from my chair and converge to the stair with a hesitant sip of my wine. Though she doesn’t deny me, she wanders right by me with neither a look nor a sign. Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she waves to the stage with her green Spanish eyes, (For her senses scoff, scorning the biblical warning of kisses of Judas that sting, With her pierced ears defeating the echoes repeating) and smiles at the bluebird that sings. Ah Consuela! I’m watching faint embers a’ stir in her green Spanish eyes, For a soft spoken stranger enveloping danger has captured the rhyme in the room As he slips into sight through the scent of the night and the breath of her heavy perfume. Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she gauges his guise through her green Spanish eyes - From his gypsy-like mane, to his diamond stud cane, to the raven engraved on his vest - For a faraway form, a tempestuous storm, lurks and heaves neath the cleav’e of her breasts. Ah Consuela! I’m watching the caravels cruising her green Spanish eyes; With the castanets clacking upon the deck cracking, he whips ’round his cloak with a whiz And without sacrificing, at mien so enticing, she floats with her face facing his.
Continued in part 2


Details | Free verse | |

Everyday

Everyday

I am trapped in a dimension
Where only repetition exists,
That reoccurs the colour theme of black. 

But the windows are very visible from the doom,
Delineating bright sunlight and pavement colour of the moon. 
Best of all, I can see the birds flapping their mighty wings.

I unfold my arms with barely any strength, 
And reach for them, 
Hoping to become one of them.
Again.

Every night and morning when the outside of the windows,
Is beautifully shaded with calming grey that mellows.

And when it is painted in soft blended colour of thick orange and light yellow,
Birds fly between South and North through the colour of fallow. 

I can tell very easily without effort, 
Each of them holds great stories
Because I was like them once, 
Who also held great stories. 

Yes, I was one of those birds, 
With pride and strength, 
That glided through the treasure sites, 
And enjoyed when the warm breeze kissed my cheeks
Over golden sparkling oceans.

But now my wings are broken,
Memories and valuables torn apart in ashes,
In to pieces that cannot be glued back. 

So I always whisper to myself,
With solemn remorse,
I sure do miss those days. 


Details | Free verse | |

Freedom Reigns

"'Cause when your back's against the wall
That's when you show no fear at all
And when you're running out of time
That's when you hitch your star to mine
We won't be leaving by the same road that we came by"

~Keane - My Shadow Lyrics ~

------------------------------------------------------------ There is no celestial place for you to guide my thoughts Can you not see that I am free from you? I am a black bird perched high in the treetops You will hear my crowing and you may hate it But my dear, you cannot take away my voice! Yet still, as fire oppresses forests of life, You can abuse my freedom to find your glory You may discard these words for your love of gods, And in so doing you may simply ignore All the cries that I so passionately utter But my infectious species will guide your mind straight back To that once so lonely treetop where you merely glanced And there will be multitudinous, oppressing thoughts That shall enslave you and bind you unwillingly The crows will only grow louder when you turn away— When you pretend to ignore with your remaining, strangling pride For my voice is a production sent from above Dispatched to judge you pitilessly for your swelling lies! And the choirs of ferocious beaks shall open forever Harmony and dissonance as one


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

From Crow Woman - The Darkstead Rhymes

He who weathers the swirling black feathers
Like a kill laid out by the skinner
One ninety-eight eyes
Across the night skies
With a story to tell the town spinner
And the Old Woman knows
It takes ninety-nine crows
To serve up a man Sunday dinner.


Details | Rhyme | |

Big cat roars

     Big Cat Roars. 

A big cat roared in the wilderness,
As the birds fled to the skies,
As the echo’s of the thunderbirds
Be drowning out their cries.
As mad, mad man goes off to war,
And young men die 
Oh Lord what for?????

The dark green bird with the big propeller 
Be dropping off some fine young fellows,
To fight a mad, mad, war in tears
As anguished mothers face their fears.
And boys, some dying for leaders pride,
Be forced to thrust their souls aside.

The Romans march they off to war,
They're still with us and that's for sure.
The Gulf, Iraq and Vietnam
Does anybody give a damn???
About boys dying in the night,
And who be wrong and who be right.?


Details | Ballade | |

The tree at dawn

The tree at dawn

I look at the tree
As the night begins to die
I look at him with passion
I look with zest do I
As he stands within his magic
This heavy mantled tree
And makes me feel like crying
Weeping tenderly.

The Pink and grey’s Galahs arrive
All squawking, loud and gay
Swerving, diving joyfully
The new days underway
It gets my heart to humming
In a gentle kind of style
Till soon the mind is silent
As heart, it wears a smile

I see the magic mystery
Of a little green leafed cave
It brings soft comfort to my heart
And makes my being crave
To delve into sweet mystery
And as the dusk comes in
The mind feels quiet and wonderful
Far away from worldly din.


Details | Ballade | |

The beauty of the way

The beauty of the way



I love these early morning hours

As the magpies sing their song

This be that certain time of day

That I feel I do belong

To everything that fills this earth

It’s a very holy time

My mind all filled with harmony

I write this little rhyme.



I write of joy, I write of love

Tis in these morning hours

When all, it feels so wonderful

And the air is filled with power

Such energy I feel within

As I sit me down and write

An ode to all that’s wonderful

My mind filled with delight.



I cannot write the way I feel

No words can really say

For words be only symbols

And the beauty of the way

Outshines all that can be wrote

You have to be in me

If you want to feel the blessed beauty

In the morn that does fill me.



27 October 22013 @ 0612hrs.






Details | Rhyme | |

The Swan

The peaceful, humble beauty 
of a white lily drifting on reflective night
hums a sweet melody 
of contrasting light.

Trusting the darkness 
to be his throne
and the moon of loneliness
to crown his soft, unheard moan.

I watch from bushes of scorn
that mock him cruelly.
His fragile crest is pierced by the thorn
of rejection and bleeds its sorrows silently.

The rejected jewels of nature are mourning
for the king of the skies to raise his wings
but he can't see beyond remembering
and can't see past the thorn's stings.

Oh, scarred heart of grace,
spread strenght and flee with wild freedom
unto priceless solace 
away from this desolate kingdom.

Oh, jewel in creation's crown,
look not to stirred reflection
for it is mere perversion, a frown,
of the white rose of perfection.

Go now, leave behind only
a legacy of despised beauty.


Details | Senryu | |

In the Shadows

Man sits in shadows Darkness consumes all of him… Blackness of the crow
Russell Sivey Contest: 1 senryu any subject Sponsor: Black Eyed Susan 5/24/2013


Details | Verse | |

Two birds


Two birds

We heard the owls' becrowing words,
foreboding of our steadfast grief,
they fled to dusk - two mourning birds
life's borderlines and false beliefs.

Two owls have passed, in gray and black,
straight arrows fled to vanish yon
our longest trip on railway tracks,
bemocking company and gone.

Upon our train have sat the birds,
the passengers won't go to stars;
poetic emptiness of words
that rhymes with unforgiven mars.

Unspoken are we, in the cars,
suspended is the pilot's gaze,
the rails become two iron bars
and death's advancing mauve bouquets.

The heads move with the engine's chug
like dancing poppies in the breeze,
and none among us will debug
why are we Charon's invitees.

The souls imprisoned trail along
the thrumming engine's wordless
rites and wait through nothingness and
wrongs their trip to reach uncounted heights.

© 01-19-2013, G. Venetopoulos, All rights reserved
(Iambic tetrameter) 

Sponsor: Kelly Deschler
Contest Name: Night Owl
Deadline: 8/27/2014



Details | Ballade | |

As the daylight comes

As Daylight comes

The scented Eucalyptus tree
With Banksia by her side
Does shine beneath the fading sun
On this evening deified
As I watch the gleaming river flow
Past giant tingle trees
My mind fades into nothingness
To let the soul roam free.

This river, like a gentle dream
Creates serenity
To the ending of a perfect day
As I, Alone with me
Do venture where heart only goes
As soft green branches dance
With grace, upon the evening breeze
These surroundings to enhance.

A man below secures canoes
As small dog bold, and playful
Gives chase to ducks who waddle off
Then the evening growing cool
Brings on that silence only felt
At the ending of each day
I witness all with mind at ease
As blue skies fade to grey.


Details | Sonnet | |

Sunset

Sunset

This hour is oh, so beautiful
I sit, and I devour it all
As silence fills my heart and soul
This sunset makes me feel so whole.

I watch the sun approach the ocean
Absorbed I am in deep devotion
As I see it melt into the sea
And oh, the joy, the mystery!

The sky fills up with orange hue
It’s lost its color, azure blue
And as the sun drowns in the sea
This beauty, how it touches me

The orange hue grows deep, then dies
Bringing darkness to the skies
As birds sing out there goodnight song
To tell the silence ‘Day is gone’

I sit and ponder on this show
Then leave it all, and home I go.

29 June 2014 @ 1337hrs.





 



Details | Sonnet | |

Crow II


He knows the fog that counts his steps tonight
So proud, the crow, stands on the wires, alone;
what made him bleed before the brinks of light,
defined by emptiness and mountain stone?

The fog surrounds the crow in early dark
what else deserved to be once more recalled
remained to warn the souls that stare and hark
"this shroud descends your being to enfold".

Ethereal, departs on his ascension trail,
stouthearted is his life's long path, my Lord;
the crow unfolds in white engulfing veil,
his stalwart wings on Mistral's wailing chord.

And infinite became his nightly flight,
above the cedars croaked his skyward rite.

© G.V. 06-11-2013 All rights reserved
(English sonnet)


Details | Free verse | |

The Bird that is Loved and Loathed

It burns and it stings.
It hurts.
More than drowning beneath 
the ice.
More than remaining in a 
kindled flame
She hits and I no longer cry.
Why mother, why? 

It burned and it stung.
The markings remained, 
returned, and were relived
Looking, loving, and little 
known loathing were the known 
ways of living.
Never was their pity for the 
child that cried
Never was their relief for the 
child that tried

You were that lovely bird that 
understood the complications of 
felicity 
Nothing looked the same in 
those dewy browns of yours.
My everbeating would cry tears 
of joy.
The others-they were yet to 
appear.
Caring Mother, o' so fair
 You were that beautiful bird 
filled with care.

The others came and were not 
alone. Their two suitors sat on 
the throne.
Rampage and rage why did you 
come?
I began to wither and wither 
slumping along. So very soon I-
the child of fines- became a 
human raceme. 
The droops of the Lily of the 
Valley became the slumping of 
my heart.
My lovely bird the enemy had 
taken you and the person you 
were is far from near.
For that divine nature left its 
intricate self and you became 
irretrievable my big bird.
All of your fairness died.
With that went my pride.
 
Mother, Mother what moved 
you so? 
Your intense spirt vanished only 
to supplement a monster. 
Mother, Monster and your tar 
filled lungs. 
How did I kill that liver that was 
so, so strong?
The lesson of pain was one you 
came to learn.
My darling bird why did you 
turn?
 
My lovely bird and your big 
brown eyes
I'll tell you once, but never 
twice.
Pain is only a flower for it 
blooms and dies
And a mistake can be killed as 
quickly as lice.
 You dear bird hurt me well. 
Though, haven't you heard?
Weakness is a souls greatest 
strength.
You brought me up, then you 
brought me down.
You haved helped, hurt, and 
hindered my blazing spirit.
A hero in my heart-I left you 
down in your deep black 
slumber. 
Escaping those terrible nights
To go for the town of delights. 


Details | Sonnet | |

an echo from the sea

An Echo from the Sea
 This old ship rode the Atlantic swells like 
a swan in a pond and her crew were dead,
perhaps not at the time, but they are now,
generations of sailors boarding her, using
her as a place of sanctuary on their way to 
a destination unknown to them.

And one by one, overcome by life they died 
and drifted on the sea of broken life- belts to 
the Saragossa where mist of sorrow covers
the bleak shoreline of ruin and the ship 
that rust on a reef; and the seamen were dead
perhaps not at the time, but they are now,
in my mind they are a sepia damaged photo
of forgotten moments.


Details | Lyric | |

Morning meditation

Morning meditation

The Corellas come, they’re flying over
Making such a raucous din
They sound just like they own the planet
As the morning does begin
I close my eyes and take a journey
To the world where dreamers go 
And feel within that deep, deep feeling
That meditators only know.

The sky outside is like black velvet
Clouds they hide the morning sky
As the white birds fly on over
I let the morning just slip by
Morning is the time for looking
At the space that I call me
It’s a really lovely journey
To this space I love to be.

Soon the busy day will be here
All the folk will gather round
I will tell them of my journey
And the solace there I’ve found
They’ll just laugh and think I’m crazy
Many people often do
But right now, I’m meditating
When morning comes, it’s what I do.

17 November 2013 @ 0524hrs.


Details | Free verse | |

The Caged Bird

Four white walls
and a bird,
trapped in steel cage
not free, not happy.
The walls they laugh,
closing in, holding
the bird hostage.
No windows,
no doors,
just four white walls
closing in,
on the caged bird.

I hear crying,
tears of sorrow,
so sweet, yet so sour.
It is the bird
trapped in the rusted cage-
No, just my soul
crying out,
for a warm embrace.

11-10-2013


Details | Ballade | |

The Darkness cometh

The darkness cometh.

Children talking in the background
Fountain gurgles out a tune
Sky is dark and grey and cloudy
Tonight we will not see no moon
Soon the day will turn to darkness
All is kind of silent, still
The dusk it always makes me wonder
And I guess it always will.

I will sit here for an hour
Then go in and watch the news
I love to feel the closing daytime
And maybe if I had to choose
I'd sit and wait till morning wakes up
There's something in the night time that
Fills my soul with so much wonder
I think that night time's where It's at

Here it comes, the sky grows darker
Little birds begin to sing
They say goodnight then off they wander
The darkness shadowing their wings
I think that rain will soon be coming
Maybe it will rain all night
I love my bed in cold wet winter
it's cosiness gives me delight.

19 July 2012 at 1400 hrs






Details | Couplet | |

In the Morning Mist

The rose unfurls its petals to drink the morning dew,
warblers sharpen their trills, granting the Son his due.

Mother bat folds her wings, hangs upside down to rest,
baby clings to mother's fur, hidden in their leafy nest.

Four-o-clocks hide their faces against the dawning light, 
morning glories open wide, only to wilt and die at night.

Leaves on lavish branches with baited breath, await
lilting notes of day-wind sighing through the garden gate.

Deep within the forest glen, where fox hides and owl hoots,
the hidden world changes pace, each creature to its own pursuits.

A world without change would soon grow dull and invisible,
if all were night or all were day, diversity might be impossible.


Details | Free verse | |

The Hawk

The Hawk flys overhead
soaring everlasting in circles
around the poor field mice.

six o'clock.

The Red Sun is now parrallel
to the treeline in the West.
Six o'clock
Dinnertime.
The hawk dives down, like a speeding bullet
and snatches up a small mouse, who was walking
along the corroded barbwire fence,
with his sharpe and dangerous talans.

Six o'clock. Feeding time.
A lover is now gone from the world of field mice,
Just like that.
With the turn of a hand on a clock
Six o'clock.
With the rumble of a Hawk's empty stomach
now a fellow mouse is gone. Forever.

Sad, isn't it?


Details | Free verse | |

The Last American: The Monsters Within

Who has seen the lost American where has he been hiding? I am the last American there is no use in denying who would listen to a voice of nonsense reason hidden in meaning that evades even him do not pay me any attention what I do is not a sin what they call sin I call freedom a lost angel known by many names Lucy, Judas, or fallen angel when you find him, careful for he known to be insane maybe I am not to blame my actions are of free design where they come from, I can never find that source of course is lost forever the lost Americans are at last, together


Details | Quatrain | |

The Raven and the Dove

The dark raven’s soulful flight goes singing Where an evening song bird blends in the skies Making flight into the grand wilderness Tender is the dove that goes up and flies The two birds as one entwine together But they are like two different beings The raven so dark and evil attacks While the dove, full of love, counters and sings White brightens around the darkest raven Suffocating the raven’s great powers And takes the life right out of the raven Darkness lost, dove conquers all that cowers Flying, the dove coos in joyful triumph Reaches the death of the raven below Resurrects the bird as a dove, and now They go along together as one show
Russell Sivey


Details | Verse | |

I Will Not Fear The Darkness

Shall I pass the phantom's test?
Find solace and peace in the belly of my bed?

I will not fear the darkness
Black as ravens head
Nor the shadows that watch and wait
While I nestle in my bed

No longer fear the cold breath, winter chill
Or the whispers of death and ill will
My fears, blooming as beauty of youth
From where are their roots?


Details | Blank verse | |

Tonight Winter Startled

Tonight winter startled

It came unexpectedly

Few people walked 

Below the gleam moon

Shivering beneath their fur coat

I stood trying to figure 

A black contorted portrait 

Drawed from the yellow dim lamp

On a cold brown dune

Which I stared

As they passed

Waving a friendly gesture

Greeting me with unknown tongue

Still I am naive

Longed for each nostalgic sweet sound of 

My homestead, thus this cold 

Consume my certain pause

Not far from the clustered bush

Also do heared a lone bird lark

My sigh and the whisper on that shade

Gone howling with desert breath


Details | Free verse | |

Nightmare on Thanksgiving

Gobble gobble I run from you.

Gobble gobble I don't want to be in your next stew.

Gobble gobble when will this end.

Gobble gobble maybe 9 or at 10?

Gobble gobble I have tripped.

Gobble gobble I hear the dogs come like a whip.

Gobble gobble I don't want to die.

Gobble gobble as well. Deep fried.

GOBBLE GOBBLE!... BARK BARK!.... GOBBLE!!!.....
GROWL!.. SILENCE.

(Voice of Morgan Freemen: Thus ends the life of a turkey he could of escaped if he just flied away but that's not how nature works.

Maybe he was fed to a family or to an animal we may never know, what we do know is never wish to be a turkey you just may end up as Dead Meat.) 

(This has been a PBS Broadcast Thank you and for consideration by viewers like you.)


Details | ABC | |

Blue Bird

Blue Bird

All alone inside of my magical little paradise called my mind is an peaceful and quiet, the sun is like a gentle kiss on the cheek, and the people are just so warm and friendly but watch out because if you open your eyes everything you once knew will be gone. This magical little realm has an bloody little twist to it. The sun that was once as comforting as an warm blanket was in fact the glistening moon and the empty black sky, and the people are now all blood thirsty monsters that are no longer affected by the sun light are now out for blood.

I run to escape the sickening but yet oh so enticing scent of blood and failure, I run to escape the screams of those who's lives were cut just too short, and I run to escape the sight of the undead, blood thirsty zombies who are on the hunt for others to join their group. I'm running, running to safety and security but all the time there's nothing but pit falls and traps. I'm running and success isn't that far away but just then I see prince charming I stop and become distracted by his promising words but just then he too becomes a monster. I scream and try to run but I just can't you trap me in fire and I can't escape. 

My mind goes numb, I can feel the darkness further enclose around me, my mind goes blank, and I forget about everything. On the inside I'm screaming, fighting, kicking to get away but on the outside I'm a love sick puppy. I know I'm stronger than this but there's something about you that I just can't get over. Just as the darkness seems to grow closer an light appears and an blue bird fights off my nightmare monster and takes me back to my snowy paradise where I'm safe and at peace and I continue my lonely dark and cold path to my brightly lite future with the little blue bird by my side reminding me that I am and will forever be loved by both my family, people who actually care about me, and god.


Details | Haiku | |

Empty Orange Bird Haiku

     Empty Orange Bird Haiku

River takes on night
Floats, orange bird covers flight, dark
Hollows, void on void


Details | Rhyme | |

The Vultures

How anger steams the desert sand;
Dead bodies sprawled about the land, 
Beaks tear while cacti grimly stand.

Among the dead he is alive;
Devouring one-two-three-four-five,
Another fall - ten more arrive

October 2, 2014


Details | Blank verse | |

My Raven, My Heart

 I hear you calling.
 I know you're here.
 I feel your presence.
 I feel your eyes on me.

 You are my guidance.
 You are my friend.
 I love the power,
 you use on me.

 You're special in your own way.
 I sense you coming every day.
 You are my angel, you stay close.
 I appreciate everything you done for me.

 Your feathers are as black as coal.
 Your eyes shines like diamonds.
 Your call alerts me to come.
 You are mine alone.

 Hear me, take me under your wing.
 I'm bound to you, through thick and thin.
 Understand this relationship is different,
 It still forms a bond by love.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Owl of The Day Before

The owl,
He lives for night, He waits all day,
For the sun to go down,
So his night demons can play,
He waits For so long,
For the darkness where he belongs,
The night breeze brushes against him, in a nighttime lust,
To shed this outer layer, of the daytime crust,
He feels free once more, as he walks out the door,
As he forgets the stresses, of the day before,
His eyes focus to a night life dream,
No longer angry, no need to scream,
He relaxes and he plays,
Till his night runs out,
And turns to day,
He will sit and he will wait once more,
As he did the day before,


Details | Rhyme | |

Stark Raven

            Stark Raven

On the backs of embers last glowing bones of red 
My head half numb from the narcotics
Winter crept on shadows in my room with frozen dread
As a broken raven marched unchallenged in its neurotics

It advanced on me with a hideous craven beak
Repeating my last name which I've since forgotten
It also used foul language which I dare not repeat
My blankets now soiled with sweat and something rotten

Across my bed with sudden jumps, then swaying side to side
Almost like a lullaby, until it shrieked, “Give me my money!” 
It was there to collect some stark raven debt or so I surmised
If it wasn't so tragic it would be funny

The dark omen laughed, had gone stark raven mad
I too was not too happy
The situation with this fowl beast has gotten bad
I could kill it but that would be a little tacky

It taunts me till this day
The drugs took hold of me so I can’t move
I can’t even wish or whisper it away
There is nothing left to prove

A winter frost came in with this dark shadow bird on my lost soul
It is the last time I leave the window open and do opium
For being dumb I have to pay the heavy toll     
Feed the thing; pay it, along with all the other bums on the curriculum        

9/23/14 The Raven Poetry Contest                                                               


Details | Pantoum | |

Once Upon A Halloween Day

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, I came to the conclusion that something tonight wasn’t quite right, I peered into the dark and everything just turned more creepy and scary, And outside appeared a huge full moon~ I stood frozen terrified in this night. And I came to the conclusion that something tonight wasn’t quite right, My heart was just pounding and thumping upon my rickety rib cage, And right straight among a circle of trees there was a fierce sparkle of light Vampires and monsters, and witches flying in brooms sped fast and past the gate. My heart was just pounding and thumping upon my rickety rib cage, I peered into the dark and everything just turned more creepy and scary, Vampires and monsters, and witches flying in brooms sped fast and past the gate, Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary.


Details | Light Poetry | |

LOOTING IN NIGHT

Hooting an Owl pure white,

Looting in dark night-

My sleep long fight!


Details | Rhyme | |

The Owl

The owl,
He sit's atop a branch high up in a tree,
He's as quiet as a silent vowel,
Hidden in the shadowy stillness,
With eyes as wide as saucers,
He secretly spies what scampers below,
While in the distance wolves howl,
A mouse cautiously creeps through the grass,
When suddenly the owl swoops down,
In a shadowy haze of wind and breeze,
From his perch and captures the mouse,
HOOT!!! HOOT!!! HOOT!!! HOOT!!!,
The owl bellows as he flies away with his dinner,


Details | I do not know? | |

If We Stop to See

As the dew silkens the quiet grasses
And the gentle breeze slowly looms through the woods
A dark bird flitters to life from a lone branch
Its eyes a glossy black reflecting a round horizon
The nippy clicks of it golden beak silence the chirping bugs
Warm currents billow through the breeze
As the sun slowly creeps from the black
And the sky colors itself with hues of reds and blues

The bird shakes its wings and seems to dance
While he tests the strength of the branch
A few strokes through the air
And his golden claws let go
He is off soaring high into the sky 
Until he is nothing more than a dark speck
That vanishes in the unreaching distance