Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Bird Death Poems | Bird Poems About Death

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

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Rhyme | |

Dead tree

Dead tree.

She stands there like she has for years
The life in her all gone
Once she wore a coat of green
And she'd be filled with song
As feathered friends of every kind
Would rest among her leaves
And as in life the same in death
Our tree will never grieve.

So all alone, she looks, this tree
All etched against black clouds
Although the life in her be gone
She stands there looking proud
And all her majesty is seen
By those with eyes to see
I take her picture once again
Try to catch her mystery

21 September 2013 @1920hrs.


Details | Sonnet | |

A Life Sentence

Dear freedom, your sweet innocent voice seems
Now like a distant echo, lost in the wind.
Hopes lost in a set of broken dreams,
With heavy chains, to your heart of stone pinned.

Day by day, night by night, without an end in sight,
Tortured by the ravaging beak of time, flying
With wings of solit'de, displaying its might, 
And hatred-filled eyes, watching me dying. 

These chains around my heart like a vicious snake
Poisoning my soul with darkness and despair. 
A dreadful nightmare from which I will wake
And look into destiny's most wicked glare. 

I stand under shadows cast by heaven's light,
And into sleep I fade, witho't a fight.


Details | Sestina | |

The Maid, the Magpie and the Mirror

Gazing, at its own reflection is the Magpie.
A magic bird, a mystical creature, with a soul
and the power to see things, the power of scrying.
It sees a tomb in ancient Egypt. It sees death.
A soul locked within a glorious bronze mirror,
Cleopatra and her Maid in a bond unbroken.

Time passes in silence as deep as the unbroken
promise of endless wisdom, gifted by the Magpie.
whose caws the Maid hears, within the depths of the mirror,
calls to the Queen, her Cleopatra, to her soul.
Magpie speaks to She on the Eastern Barge in the afterlife of death,
and to her Maid entombed. The sacred bird so near scrys.

The Magpie sits within oasis staring into the pool. It scrys
for all this time, its vigil, its protection, never broken.
Even when the sarcophagus is carried to the necropolis of the dead,
without, unknown, the bird speaks wisely through reflection, her Magpie.
Entombed, his Queen and her Maid, their bodies but not their souls,
Queen, Maid and Magpie, each cast a last gaze, alive within the mirror.

The Vows of Innocence, the Maid bespeaks the mirror.
Pleas to the Swallower of Shades, both Queen and Maid have scried
to The Burning One, and claim no lie, upon their soul.
As the light dims within the Maids eyes, in tomb unbroken,
she sees the life of her Queen and their Magpie
pass fast upon the brass, last breath of life and dying.

Oh, too soon the end, moans the Maid, I am dying.
Her life's reflection moves bronzed upon the mirror.
She screams, "My Queen," but hears only the caw of Magpie.
All around her other servants succumb and cry, whilst she sits scrying,
and the Magpie flies above in life entombed, eternity, unbroken.
As she beseeches all the Gods to save her soul.

The Magpie's spirit self moves within the mirror's soul.
He swoops gathering Cleopatra's essence, past the dying,
and brings her to the Maids side unbroken.
In afterlife upon the Eastern Barge they join the mirrored
whole, for he, the bird of magic, Magpie, has called and scried
it so. Part light of life, part dark of death, the Magpie.

The essence of each entwine united within this eternal mirror
for the Magpie cannot bear their deaths. He will protect and forever scry
in life the mirror sits unbroken a stolen bauble, and in it they dwell with the Magpie.





Details | Quatrain | |

The Raven




Through the open window
An unintended entry way
Pale the moonlight streaming
Careless, now the price to pay

It perched upon my bedpost
All reality to confound
A tilted head, a beady eye
As yet he made no sound

My secret now revealed
He knew my every thought
My visitor in a feathered cape
Harbinger of death he brought

At last a guttural  caw I heard
And in terror begged" no more",
"Leave me be to my just fate
for yes, I killed the fair Lenore"….


With apology to Mr... Poe



Details | Villanelle | |

Deadly Raven

Sitting atop the old decaying tree Is a deadly raven quite pathetic Where his lusting eyes do more than just see An unsuspecting group thinks they are free Raven thinks of a move that’s genetic Sitting atop the old decaying tree No-one knows what it’s like to truly be One of this group, death is just magnetic Where his lusting eyes do more than just see Down he swoops taking one soul completely Returns to tree, looking quite poetic Sitting atop the old decaying tree The raven smiles as he caws wickedly Soul collecting might be more aesthetic Where his lusting eyes do more than just see The raven flies high looking lustfully All that he’s collected that’s prophetic Sitting atop the old decaying tree Where his lusting eyes do more than just see
Russell Sivey


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 | 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 | Haiku | |

Haiku 5 - mournful cries, way of nature, flight into eternity

mournful cries fill the air
mother bird calling for its baby
eaten by the cat

mantis catches butterfly
I am sad: yet, that is 
the way of nature

loud feathered thud
- flight into eternity
deceptive glass pane


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

The Silent Lamb

The silent bell rings in the night,
Calling the devils to kneel to the light,
What once was, becomes no more,
As the light breaks through the open door.

What you think and what you feel,
What you saw and thought was real,
Is now only dust on the road,
The desolate remains of your ancient abode.

The new light is rising on the hill,
The new song is singing down in the well,
The new souls are dreaming of your face,
The new hearts are beating at you pace.

The old ideas and reasons you gave,
Are buried in the tomb and in the grave,
The rotting bone and flesh are gone,
In the morning dew, in the morning sun.

The light shines through the open door,
Casts no shadow on the old dirty floor,
The ancient laws of reason and might,
Crumble to dust in the morning light.

What once was real and certain as rock,
Is now the dream the baby forgot,
The new light coming to wake you my love,
The silent lamb and the flying dove.

more of my poems at :
http://labyrinthoflies.com


Details | Verse | |

'Death Of A Bird'

A pretty bird Sang upon a fence Until a cat jumped to pull a wing down Sad little bird lay on the ground within sharp claws Trembling Struggling With no real hope Her feeble attempts doomed No more will I hear her sweet song on the fence Sadness Finished The cat moves on Close by a nest of babies wait Pretty bird looks one final time at the sky One last chirp Verse November 28, 2012


Details | Limerick | |

Not the material guy

Not the material guy

I’m not the material guy
Ambitions were never for I
I’m always the one
That gets noting done
I’m a dreamer, I cannot deny.

My mind it is not very clever
My heart is as light as a feather
My manner is free
Like a bird in a tree
And I never will worry, not ever

Just like a river I’ll flow
And always my heart it will glow
I won’t push the river
So life does deliver
A feeling that each day does grow

Until the day that I die
I won’t let a day pass me by
Without looking at me
At within, what I be
As always I’ll ask ‘Who am I?’

18 September 2013 @1800hrs.






Details | Ballad | |

Goats

Goats

They’re everywhere
These pretty little creatures
On the serpent road to Exmouth
They be some of the features
Along with Emus, Kangaroos
And handsome birds of prey
These little goats be bountiful
They’re all along the way.

They be domestic goats 
Who’ve gone back to the wilds
Where they have bred one million fold.
As one moves along the miles
These little goats be seen so much
In their many shades and hues
Don’t know where they got their water
It be tough country too.

The weather here be hot and dry
As the sun bakes everything
And mostly here no rain does fall
To drinking water bring.
And yet these goats look healthy as
Such nimble little beasts
You’d see some dead there in the road
As the crows do have their feast.

That be the price of progress
That poor beasts have to die
That be the curse of human beings
Sometimes it makes me cry
Yet still they be so plentiful
These handsome little guys
Another little part of nature
That make love in me rise.


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 | Ballad | |

Dawn is breaking

Dawn is breaking

Willie wagtail in my garden 
Sings a very special song
Telling me the sun is coming
Dawn will break soon, won’t be long
It’s dark outside with full moon shining
But soon the light will show its face
Green parrot makes his bell like music
How his song has so much grace

Kookaburra, he is laughing
Something funny has touched him
Could he be laughing at us human’s
With all our wars and crazy din?
Spring is just around the corner
And all of nature seems to know
As I sit here in the morning
My world it has a special glow.

Now the world has gone all silent
Waiting for the dawn to break
Soon the chorus is beginning
Singing just for loves own sake
All the birds will join the chorus
And my heart will start to sing
How I love these life soaked mornings
Such joy to me they always bring.

25 August 2013 @ 0631hrs.




Details | Free verse | |

The Grief of Crows

Soaring above the bushfire's flames,
astounded crows, blacker than charred
tree trunks, flap spectral wings.

Numb with loss, no caws drone out.
Wind rushes in updrafts from
the smoky heat: to rise as a vengeful spirit,
to hammer at fleeing pinions,
to witness aimless circles above coal black trees,
now absent of rough stick nests.


Suzanne Delaney


Details | I do not know? | |

The Carrion and the Vulture of Poetry (Part 1)

The news was brief so take a breath

My "be aware" vision peered its head tonight

Poetry died a tired lonely death

And those damn poets caused the death of might

The carrion of poetry lay still with blood of ink

After years of neglet it finally gave in

As the "poets" unite to slay the beast

The "poets" unite to set it to sleep

Together they committed suicide

Together now turn to genocide

For "poets" forgot to feed its soul

Now the carrion of poetry lies down low

A bird of prey sits on a perch

The bird of prey from poetrys church

Now cleans her head of former blood

As she looks down to see the "poets" flood

She sees them cry so desperatly

Sobbing their ink of insecurity

She perches high to see the show

Of silly poets who killed their own

She elongates her wings to free

As they have been waiting constantly

For mooments like this are natures call

For moments like this bare souls to all

Her claws of might clutch to the sky

Grab a hold the tears of Gods cry

For HE created man to see

The death of themself from poetry


Details | Free verse | |

Freakazoid

There's a bird in my head 
and it's freaking me out
because it won't stop chirping.

All I can envision 
are plastic dolls 
smoking cigarettes in the panic room
and talking about boys
The bird keeps chirping.
I'm trying to read 
this guy's suicide note
but it's written in ransom note effect
so I'm a little confused.
The bird keeps chirping.
This paper thin world
keeps slicing my skin
with stinging swipes
from the razor rims of its paper thin sheets
The bird keeps chirping.
Blood rains in a bottomless drip
like I'm a hemophiliac 
but I'm not
or am I?
The bird keeps chirping.
I'm paralyzed 
like a tree rooted into the Earth
amidst a gust of wind
my human arms flail in hysteria
but the rest of me 
is a mannequin.
The bird keeps chirping.
The world is fuzzy
like a limb that has slipped into slumber
The bird keeps chirping.
static feedback
is all that's left
it's the only thing that remains real
and I can't see straight within the inert realm
The bird keeps chirping.
There's a vice grip 
locked around my throbbing temples
as cold as steel's surface
The bird keeps chirping.
A single click 
rose from out of nowhere
and somehow broke through the noise 
but still
The bird keeps chirping.
Death's edge
feels like it's an inch beyond my stagnant feet
The bird keeps chirping.
The world disintegrates 
as fast as a scorching hot bullet 
cutting through a cardboard target
cutting through skin
cutting through bone.
cutting through life.
The bird stops chirping.  




Details | Ballad | |

The joy of the pheasant shoot

The joy of the pheasant shoot.

Getting set for the big event
The good folk do their stuff
They beat the earth with sticks, do they?
With their little dogs so tough 
They flush those pheasants from the scrub
So all can have some fun
Killing them with smiling faces
As they fire beloved guns.

Then as the pheasants in a panic
They bolt into the sky
Our hero’s with their guns in hand
Make sure that hundreds die
As the air is filled with the cracking sounds
As birds fall all around
Just so these fools can get there jollies
These corpses cover ground.

I wonder sometimes if these hero’s
Have any souls at all
That they could get such satisfaction
Doing these acts so cruel
Sometimes it leaves me speechless
At the way folk get their pleasure
Killing beauty just for fun
Is an ugly kind of leisure.

10 September 2013 @ 1340hrs




Details | I do not know? | |

pakshi

main hu ek aajad pakshi ki trah
udti hu khule aasman me
jise n koi chinta, kisi ke shikar karne ki
udati rahu puri jindagi, aajad pakshi ki trah
koi n rakhe mujhe bandhi bna kar 
udati rahu, udati rahu, aajad pakshi ki trah
khane ke liye bhatku idhar -udhar
n mile mujhe khane ke liye
bhukhe pet hi so jau
kitne bhi kasht mile, has kar sah lu unhe
koi phark n pade, ab kisi kasht ka
aadat hi ho gayi ab hume
main hu ek aajad pakshi ki trah
udati hu khule aasman me


Details | Ballad | |

The Ibis episode

The Ibis Episode

Today I walked into my garden
To give our dog attention
{Now he’s a dog so big and strong
I guess this I should mention}
And then my eyes, rested upon
This bird, a sacred Ibis
Which made me worry quite a bit
Cause my pond was filled with fish.

This big birds strutted round the place
He could not seem to fly
But I knew that if my Boy caught him
The poor bird well might die
So I was in a quandary
As to what I well might do
So I put the dog into the house
So I could think thing s through

I walked up to the mulberry tree
{He was perched upon a limb}
And I really got quite close to him
And softly spoke to him
He didn’t seem to mind at all
But then, he flew away
It seems he wasn’t hurt at all
Which really made my day.











Details | Ballade | |

Evening lullaby

Oh hear thee well the music
It’s the Maggies lullaby
They’re warbling in that Banksia tree
As the day begins to die.
And their haunting goodnight serenade
Says goodbye to the day
As the Sun lies down to sleep the night away.

Just four weeks from our Spring
My heart feels so alive
As I’m sitting on my garden seat
It be an hour since five.
And as those maggies hush their song
The fountain carries on
She’ll still be heard when all be hushed and gone.

Six Buddha’s seem to sense the silence
There’s a certain kind of glow
As I melt into the evening time
And  swim within the flow.
And the evening says “it’s time to rest
Until the blessed morn
Now each must die, on the morrow be reborn”.

17 July 2004


Details | Couplet | |

Home

Home is where the butterfly goes;
Somewhere no one may ever know.

Home is where the sparrow flies;
A nest in softest shadows hides.

Home is where an old man can die
In peace.


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 | Rhyme | |

Predator and Prey

The relationship between predator and prey
is Nature's poetry in motion in its most bittersweet way.
After I posted this poem,
on my desk a cockroach did roam.
I scooped up the little guy in the safety of my closed palm,
then tossed it out my window so its life could live on,
and as it slowly descended with a feather weight glide
a bird preyed upon it as the bird happened to fly by.
That's the one thing that's always troubled me about this great gift of Life.
In order for one to stay alive, other living things must die.


Details | Ballade | |

In search of masculinity

In search of masculinity

In search of masculinity
Small minds, with big shotguns
They search the wetlands shooting ducks
They love to call this fun
In the lovely peace of our wetlands
In the early hours of morn
Our ducks they swim there peacefully
Till mayhem, it is born.

The sound of shotguns going off
They frighten all these bird
As they swim there so peacefully
The poor birds they be stirred
And fly away in blind panic
As our hero’s shoot them down
The ugliness of human beings
Oh how it makes me frown.

Not all these birds are killed out right
For many get away
And have to lie there suffering
Sometimes for many days
Maybe this is why they call
Us human beings humane!!
I think that folk who live to kill
They live their lives in vain.

16 November 2013 @ 1500hrs.


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 | Villanelle | |

The messenger

Raven, flying through the night
bringer of everlasting rest
against his word you must not fight

Works for the one who takes the light
the one who knows what time is best
raven, flying through the night

For although his words may bite
to you he flew from his nest
against his word you must not fight

Through his master's strong might
he can speak to the smallest pest
raven, flying through the night

His master sends him to the site
and though you think I jest
against his word you must not fight

While I sit here, this I write
he is perched on my shoulder cawing with zest
raven, flying through the night
against his word I must not fight


Details | Rhyme | |

Night trail

in the light of darkness
a moon and her stars
faded harshly away
hands of my hours
dwell in their eternal moment
in a time framed ballet

eyes adapted to the dark
mirror miniscule
a mouse into an elephant
the almost invisible night owl
whizzes traceable yet silent
downwards like a celebrant

one small pinched squeak
most pervading affirmation 
of a heavenly nutritious act
down below a different sound
terse trampling of fleeing mouse
a stampede displays life's a fact

once completely paralyzed 
in the midst of the Black Forrest
in breathless adoration since
eternal memories forth live
symphonies nestled in my mind
me and a night owl's secret flirtation

(c) Elly Wouterse
Night Owl - Poetry Contest
Contest Winner Medal
	3	Night trail	Elly Wouterse


Details | Free verse | |

Blood flows like Champaign on a Wedding Day

The poetry I write seems harsh
it seems sad and powerful,
sings songs and pslams to the sorrowful soul,
sung its song in the past of sorrow in all.

The poet's blood flows like champaign
on a wedding day of young couples in love.
Champaign that flows like rivers and streams
in the green plains of Mid West America,
and the poet writes about the land and the bird
that sings afar in a tall, old oak tree
thick at barch with experience and age.

The soul burns and cries out to be freed,
yet sits and reads poetry till the crack of dawn
in an old apartment house on the second floor,
and the rats run along the walls, and the cockroaches
in cerial boxes,
with shotgun in lape and cocked, ready to fire,
one in the chamber.
Whiskey in the lungs,
and whiskey on the ground,
in the hand
and upon the feet
of a sorrowful soul, filled with pain
and age, age full of tender love that never was discovered
by any naive soul.

One time the clock ticks and tocks,
echoes rings in an empty mind,
that echoes the sorrowed mind and tortures the pale soul.
One pull of the trigger,
and the sound of an explosion of faint silence
and a smile on a face of a dead man is shown in the light,
and watch the blood flow on the white pannel wall,
flowing like champaign on a beautiful wedding day.

Two weddings and a funeral...

-11-1-2013-


Details | Burlesque | |

a vet's friday

A Vet’s  Friday 

A sparrow was picking insects on the road a car came, the bird nearly
 got away, but was hit by the car’s wing mirror I stopped dismounted 
and picked it up. It looked stunned gasping for air. Put the bird on 
the shady, grassy verge, waited for it to recover, and to see it fly away. 
Afar, behind the mountain range, smoke two helicopters with big bags
 of water hanging underneath are flying towards the forest fire. 
The countryside is dry yet the sun goes on shining hot and spiteful. 
I look at the sparrow it had overcome and died with an open beak; and 
I was the only witness. My effort to be a rescuer and a hero in my own 
vanity had failed, was it my heavy hands that had shocked it to death. 
Nothing more to do I can’t stay here all day looking at a dead bird. 
The helicopters are returning to fill those enormous bags with water in 
a nearby lake and sparrows do as they must pick insects off the road
while we wait for rain. 
 


Details | Elegy | |

FINAL NESTING BOX

You lay in the wooden cot,
a broken sparrow,
Crushed. Bony. Frail.
Hair once plumed gold,
greyed to clumped feathers
like ragged  trampled wings,
strawed out on the dank pillow.
Face once blushed pink plump,
Jolly kind of soft with life,
Sucked to bone. Nose to Beak.
Echoes of the mask it will soon become.

I stroked this woman 
now bent back to foetus pose.
Once sworled to shell, 
wrapped inside myself,
Safe.
Now boned to carcass stick.

I wanted to hold one more time,
my child, 
frightened the last air would puff to nought from its hollowed breast.
But my sparrow turned and smiled,
a grimace to crack open any gates of envisaged hell.
Macabre teeth, once glowing love and laughter to the skies,
Now pecked to ochre stalks.

The pitiful bird pained to move.
Mucous mouth clacked open wide
To receive some lasting morsel of life.
Only its beady blue gaze 
flashed a soul of its former self, 
eyes to haunt the sea.
I swallowed back my tide of tears,  
waves of memory flooding sands of life we’d shared,
from fledgling dawn cry to this,
the final nesting box.

I wanted to stuff this cot with down 
of a million eider.
To cosset and hold soft this scrawn, gnawed through. 
Pluck teal, goose, swan.
‘Who would have thought it would come to this?’ it croaked a laugh.
I matched smile with smile.
I held the tiny claw.
Desperate not to cling too much to pain, 
too much to past.

I wanted to wrap up this dying bird 
Limp, in my hanky.
White folded white, fold on fold.
Run through the streets
shouting at the world, at some unseen power.
NO. 
She’s mine. She’s safe. Take me. 
What cruelty did I do?  
What evil must be stuffed in this maternal breast
To hold this daughter dust in my arms?


Details | Haiku | |

Haiku 5


In its final soar 
Finds the limb it learned to fly 
Lands, to fly no more 


Gene Bourne
06-08-14




.


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 | Verse | |

It Breathes


I wonder if it’s that hard?
I am young and full of years.
I walk this beach every day and watch
The tides come in, and drive back out.
Birds fly gracefully above my head and
The breeze blows sand into my face.
My feet sink into the damp out skirt of the shore
And I splash around in the water.

It’s not easy to come across death and not respond
In some sort of way. I am full of energy
And you lay by my side faded away.
 Even though you are only a bird
You deserve a proper burial. Your wings have
Insects circling around them. Buz-buz and zzzz.
 They are waiting for me to
Go.  But I can’t just leave you here.
What if it was me laying here dead?
I would like to think just because I am human
And you are an animal, we are similar.
We both share the same air,
We both need nourishment, we both live and
We both die. I’d like to think if I were you someone
On this planet would care.

You once flew with that sun kissed colored wings 
I walk with these porcelain painted legs
As I take off my white zip- up sweater and show you respect
I gently cover you before the rest of the inspectors come.
How you ended up along this beach
Lifeless and deserted, I shall never know.
Maybe you were sick? Or it was just your time.
But I will give you a proper burial
It’s a seed that I must sow
Showing respect for a life

As the tide comes and it goes.

By: Sabina Nicole


Details | I do not know? | |

The Flightless Bird Must Break

The robin that shuddered from the island of the lake,
The robin that tossed until each feather was a flake,
The robin in the wind that watched the waters awake,
Robin red-breast numb with ache.


For the rhyme-battle 2 competition


Details | Haiku | |

A Dialectical View

On the ground, stark still
The child immobile stared, saw
Its dead broken will
            *
Songless feathers cold
Limping back from shivered tears
The bird speechless too
            *
One bird flies no more
Death disshevelled to it clings
Like a silent heart
            *
Each dying makes dust
Dust the silence of the song
Dust, death of a bird
            *
No post mortem whys
Knowledge sorrows has no cure
Death cloud us with sighs
            *
One tear glistened then
The mother tugged her away
Heart beating like wings
            *
Dead before the church
In coldness, nothing flies now
In the silent skies
            *
Hangs still the clod cloud
Air in air, a frozen will
Like a dead bird - falls
            *
Inexorable
The mortal thread dangling dust
To featherless wings
            *
A bird's desire fled
To this feathered crumbled heap
Shall I trust to sleep?


Details | Haiku | |

Squirrel

Scampering along
Stiff, silent on the asphalt
Crows delicacy 


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 | I do not know? | |

The Onyx Bird

The saddest thing I ever saw
Lay splattered on the floor
An onyx bird with feathers sprawled
I hoped he’d made heaven’s door.

Although his mangled body lay
Lifelessly on sad display.
Those who passed didn’t seem dismayed
But on the road he lay that day

His eyes had lost all their light
With his ability for flight.
And now he rests in god's great might
But still it is a saddened sight.

Do believe me when I say
That was not the tragic part.

Because faithfully at his side
There was a mournful chide,
While ruby blood stains dried.
Another onyx bird will bide.

Forevermore she’ll always long
For his beautiful melodic song.
Until in heaven where they belong
Both the onyx birds may soar like one.


Details | Rhyme | |

Little Dog Blue

Dog felt down, he never smiled anymore.
“I bet its because you're a bore!”
said Freda the Frog.
“Maybe,” said Dog.
So Frog did a trick, to make Dog smile.
And it helped him, just for a while.
“Oh, Dog, why are you blue?”
“I don't know Frog, I wish I knew.”

The next day, Dog could not grin.
Without a bark, he let the Cat in.
“What's this ol boy, you won't say hello?
What's gotten into you, my dear fellow?” 
So Cat led dog on a merry chase
But he soon saw his efforts were a waste
“Oh, Dog, why are you blue?”
Dog sighed, “I don't know Cat, I wish I knew.”

All of the night, Dog laid there without scratching a louse.
He was beginning to worry, Mr. Whiskers, the house mouse.
“Good heavens,” said he to Kitty Cat, “He doesn't even groan.”
“But what's the use, without a good bone?”
So he found a turkey leg in the ice box.
And dangled it in front of Dog. “Have I the pox?”
“Oh, Dog, why are you blue?”
Dog shook his head, “I don't know Mouse, I wish I knew.”

“Listen,” said Polly the Parrot. “I know what's the matter.”
“He misses his master, Miss Hatter.”
The animals then grinned, not all was lost then,
For perhaps with this information, he would smile again.
So together they conspired, to find the missing mistress.
They searched the house, from floor to tress.
But all they found was Mr Hatter, but he missed her too,

“Where are you, where are you, Miss Betty Boo?”
Polly said to they, “Now you know it's true,
She's gone away, our master is blue.
When is she coming back?”
Dog said, “I wish I knew.”


Details | I do not know? | |

Whisper In The Wind

Do not come to my grave and cry, 
I am not here, I am in the sky.
I am that diamond that flies so high, 
The bird that sings
That calms your mind.

Do not come to my grave and cry, 
You are not alone, 
I am by your side.
Never far, always near, 
To wipe away that salty tear.

Do not come to my grave and cry, 
I am not here, I am in the sky.
I am that diamond that flies so high, 
The bird that sings, 
The whisper in the wind; 
That calms your mind.


Details | Rhyme | |

I Fear Her Now

Clack Clack Clack,
I hear her footsteps loud and clear,
Clack Clack Clack,
I hear her footsteps coming near,
She's the one I have to fear.
Her lipstick is poison, her kisses nicotine. 
Her mind is a crime scene, like her visits to her victims.
She has been wronged, so here is her revenge.
Now the lock has been opened, and i see her smirk,
her eyes as blue and dangerous as an ocean with currents.
In her hand she holds a sword, it's what she uses when she is bored.
I am strong, I am weak, I see a bird with a broken beak.
Cheering me on,
Helping me out,
Chirp Chirp Chirp,
I need to get out.
But no plan has been made, the bird couldn't help, 
for this pain is too real,
and i see a light. 


Details | Rhyme | |

The Mynah Birds Cry

I fell asleep beneath the Elm
and thus began to dream.
Whilst sleeping sound in sleeper’s realm, 
the Mynah birds did sing, 
and whispered unto me a spree of many a curious thing –
that I should die, but then to rise
and reign the world as Queen!

I woke from chilly winds and then,
I found to my surprise,
before me lay a cap and pin;
the Mynah birds did cry,
a cooing soft from Elm tree tops and tempting me to try 
the crown of gold and dagger cold that shone before my eyes.

I placed the crown upon my head,
the dagger through my breast.
The loss of life and blood that bled
put Mynah birds to rest.
Then perched the worst of all the Mynahs stiff atop my chest 
and thrice it pecked to resurrect a Queen from fallen flesh.


Details | Lyric | |

Ten to Twenty, aka a Very Long Sentence

Beady black-eyed bird perched in the bush
outside my window cocking his head
from side to side eying the squirrel-proof
feeder that is coated thickly with a layer of
Vaseline not to keep the squirrels away but
to keep the rats out of the feeder who have
taken up residence in the pampas grass which
separates my house from the neighbors and
who have multiplied (the rats, not the neighbors)
at a rapid pace ever since the neighbor's yard man
killed that perfectly harmless snake, waking me
from my daylight sleep...the harsh and unusual
noise of a man pounding a snake to death with a
stick and wanting to stop him but unable to open
any windows in this old house which were all
painted shut by careless painters or demented
residents, perhaps Joe who used to live here and
briefly made his ghostly presence known when
we first moved in, but now only occasionally pulls
the shower curtain open if we leave it closed and
sometimes makes a rattling noise with the little
lever that closes the drain in the bathtub which we
never take baths in because who wants to lay
around in tub filled with soapy dirty water, fecal
cells floating around attaching themselves to your
chest, your hands and then you feel like you have to 
take a shower, anyway, so why waste time that you
could be spending watching the bird who is eying
the greasy feeder with great suspicion.


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 | Free verse | |

Korean Commas

What am I to say to you dear sweet Jim
You have chased me away and now I am gone
But what about you broken by your promises
To me it's a sad old song, you've been gone for way to long
I doubt you knew, fondly whispered memories- same old song
For me there is and will be nothing left to do
You could never now complete the man I knew
The words were clear I was left in the shadows now with out you
Same old memories same old you I cried untill heavens turned blue
I am not ready for challenge I will not play the game
I am still hurt from the memories, hiding from the pain
Embarrassed becasue I am left standing here this way
Alone because of a man whose arms I have held so long
Caught burying worries and facing all the blame
But what about you, forgive yourself and start again 
You'll be the same old guy to all of them


Details | Free verse | |

Hungry Thief

For the first time ever,
a Cardinal's nest lay cleverly hidden
in a juncture of two branches
of the red rose climber
on the south wall of our garage.

Over the years, we'd watched with pleasure
as House Finches, Eastern Phoebe,
Bluebirds, and Wrens nested in flowerpots,
birdhouses, spruce trees, and on porch walls.
Purple Martins snootily passed us by
in spite of elaborate housing provided.
 
Once, a Rufous-sided Towhee deposited
her eggs on the ground, underneath
a large cedar tree near the driveway.
We mowed around them, shooed turtles 
toward distant woods, and watched 
eggs hatch, babies fly into the future.

Cardinal babes were a new and welcome
experience. Almost daily, we peeked.
But grief came quickly with eagle eye, 
hooked talon, and razor-edged beak.
A Cooper's Hawk left a shattered nest, 
a mother's heart ripped apart, and us,
feeling her pain to the marrow of our bones.



Details | Limerick | |

Holocene Extinction



                      Dodo the dead had halcyon days on her native shore
                  Like halcyon birds she was happy in heaven’s ground floor
                                  Hounds and crews did her confuse
                                    Struck the land with evil cues
                 Filled the air with wings of greed, naive Dodo was no more


Details | I do not know? | |

crows

Crows
By- Manuel Martinez




The morning rays are what I’m told a blessing for today Well, 
I’ve been lied to.
Morning’s hell and the afternoon a drag
Out of tricks and broke like bricks
I can’t brag.
Over and done with evening’s dare
No rings with strings 
So you won’t stare.
Walking past building blocks
And speedy clocks
I came across a crow.
Without stopping walked with shock and awe
This crow moved none at all.
Standing Center Street like one of a kind
With moving cars swerving and curving 
It seemed this bird had one thing on mind,
Dying. 
I felt the same and thought what a shame but
Why a crow’s view is but a mirror cracked
So why didn’t I think of that.
What a small cage and corner the bird is trapped
It saw when life was snapped.
Truth came with proof without a say
Aren’t we all crows in some way?
Looking for loves, hopes, dreams and futures in
Empty places,
The suites and boots are but a crow’s cowardly place
And with that said 
Crows are us through broken glass.
And so,
Many years of passing
 I still wonder of that bird on the center street
With cage and corner.
Did it survive and endure the hard labor of life or simply wither into nothing like the 
fallen leaf
Off a hollow tree?
I myself being a crow have lived through spaces
And spaces of 
Time and places 
Like a bad book of empty
Pages.
Are you a crow?


Details | I do not know? | |

I Think

I think I know why the caged bird sings

For she herself knows that there is always an end

Not knowing which one song will finally welcome her final slumber

She sings to show that make your first note as precious as your last

She sings as a warning to all those of better faith 

Close your eyes to freedom and you will open them to grief

The sweetest song is not sung to liberate the body

It is sung to empower the soul

I think I know why the caged bird sings

For death takes the things that will make the best company


Details | Free verse | |

KLJ 12012

A line, 

Maybe a bird

traces its way across

                A canvas of White

Stagnate and panning the landscape

it becomes enamored by 

                the amount of blank space left

 From deep within,

a glow of Green, 

blending with yellow and brown hues,

begins to wick its way 

                across the feathers of the Bird.

 It glides close to the ground and encircles the bushes

the hues begin to passionately fill them in

turning twigs, lightly sketched, in to trees

                 blowing gently in the breeze
 The bird 

then glides up toward the breeze 

catching it,

sweeping back across the canvas 

                to wash its wings clean

 Looking down, a feeling, 

                a muse, 

causes a glow, near its heart this time 

filled with violets blues and just a bit of white 

                begins to wick in to its wings

over flowing, 

it begins to flood across and down the rivers, 

cascading over rocks gently placed 

                by a steady hand

 Catching another breeze 

it dips and turns towards the sky 

allowing the shades of mixed blues to flow gently 

                on to the canvas

 with each flap of its wings 

shapely clouds fade in to strings over tree tops

giving a once clear sky

                life

the bird begins to dance around the newly formed obstacles 

slicing tiny details

giving movement for the flock to 

                glide through

 Content with this the bird, the line, 

                or maybe a lost soul, 

falls in to its place among the sun beams of a perfect day. 

Soar high, little bird, soar high.


Details | Free verse | |

The Guardian Raven

Down the raven came
to the man who had a claim
of infamous shame.

The body, four eyes were laid
a wife, whom was betrayed
she lay broken not decayed.

Knowing the souls plight
with it the raven took flight
and flew through the night.


Details | Rhyme | |

Of Fiery Gold

Strands of fiery gold awake the sleepy bird
From a slumber deep and dream filled.
It’s time to sing the notes never heard
To a group, wide-eyed and would-be thrilled.

The morning rises before too long
Leaving promises of a new tomorrow in the dust,
And there’s no time for it to settle, so just play along
Pretending that in the day you trust.

Once the sky has softened
With swirls of delicate white cotton
And the sun has hanged a frame
Dipped in blood orange flames
The new bird knows it’s time to fly
Away to pass on the fleeting cry
Of a widow’s final goodbye

Strands of fiery gold disappearing far from sight
Signal to the night bird 
That it is close to reaching midnight.
Sing us all a lullaby, we will find the words

When tomorrow comes to us again
The melody will remain
And everything will be the same
Except for that which changed


Details | I do not know? | |

Lost & Lonely

LOST  & LONELY

SOMETIMES I FEEL LIKE A BIRD WITH A BROKEN WING,
DON’T KNOW WHERE I’M GOING...
DON’T CARE WHERE I’VE BEEN.

JUST LIKE THAT BIRD I CAN FEEL ME FALLING
SPINNING....SPINNING OUT OF CONTROL...
LOOKING FOR SOMETHING...
FINDING NOTHING AT ALL.

DESPERATE THOUGHTS IN THE NIGHT I CRY,
DISTURBING SHADOWS OF TEARS ROLL FROM MY EYES...
AS I SEARCH FOR COMFORT ABOVE
TOO SOON I FEEL THE DEATH OF LOVE.

AND LIKE THE BIRD WITH THE BROKEN WING
I SACRIFICE MY SOUL
IF LOVE IS GONE...
THEN DEATH IS ALL I KNOW.


Details | Rhyme | |

Chilling Breeze

as the chilling breeze blows across my face
i imagine i'm in another place

a place so sweet i wanna cry
a place where no flower shall ever die

i spot a bird as it spreads its wings
as it takes off, it sings

i watch the bird fly high 
and suddenly fall to the ground beneath the sky

i watch the bird breathe its last breath
as it chokes until its death

i touch the bird and shout why
as i slowly begin to cry

i imagine i'm in another place
as the chilling breeze blows across my face


Details | Rhyme | |

Of Birds And Men

This bird that chirps but does not sing
this bird unable to fly, held down by broken wings
this bird was dreaming "One day I shall fly"
instead she suffers on the cold ground she lies
terrible, i feel, for i shattered her dreams
for i am the one who broke her wings
as she lies there death she shall await
oh how shameful i am to cause this cruel fate
an accident indeed
but to a death it leads
to her last few breaths breathed
oh what a sinful deed
though you cannot fly i think you would agree
that you little bird have it better than me
i too have made mistakes
i am not proud of what I've done
but i am unable to escape it
I've lost the strenght to run
never able to forget
living in regret
bloody hands
ruined plans
i think we've learned our lesson
not to look so far ahead
to be unaware of our present
and the past we dearly dread
the best laid schemes of birds and men
often go askew
she took in her last breath
and away she flew


Details | Monorhyme | |

Crimson

Silently she sheds her tears,
whispered voices no one hears,
watching days turn into years,
petrified by all her fears.

Waging war with words of wrath,
startled by her lurid laugh,
tripping blindly down the path,
clicking beads compute the math.

In darkness cloaked she sits and stares,
rhythmic creaking rocking chairs,
expressionless, she is aware,
knowing no one's left who cares.

A crimson bird lands on the sill,
eyeing her, he clacks his bill,
the bird sings out a tiny trill,
fluttering, her heart is stilled.


©Danielle White


Details | I do not know? | |

Bird of Pain

As I fly with no sound across the earth
I see all with no judgement except for birth
through the mist of the ocean insanity dwells
as the lifeless bodies propel to hell
For I am nothing but a bird or so you think
Without me chaos would reign and the angels would blink
Thank you pain, for without you nothing would gain
I feel shame, thank you pain once again
Without you I not tell what I see
Could it be you respect me?
I find that hard to believe
Im not holy, nor a savior, all I do is retrieve,
Once you die, you will envy me as I see what I see
You will beg for forgiveness but it is too late
You have now become part of natures sympathetic bait
when the time has come I hope that you will see what I see
then you will realize "damn, that bird was me"
Thank you pain, I see what you see


Details | Alliteration | |

Roadside Reminiscence

The sun was shinning and no cloud cover
was in view. Few cars this early traversed
the road making my ride decidedly
safer and serene. I couldn't contrive
in my mind a more beautiful Sunday.
I was consciously consumed, contented.
When suddenly I spotted something steel-
gray not far ahead of me. At first I 
thought that it was the usual soft-shoulder
debris. The closer I came it became
clear to me what it was: a dead gray bird.
I braked my bike, dismounted and approached
it. I stooped and lifted the lifeless thing.
Still warm to the touch, that it could have died
a moment ago. Suddenly saddened
by this find a feeling of guilt arose
within me. Not knowing the nuances,
with bird in hand I began to bemoan
a rush of muted memories flooding
my senses. I stood there alone, alive
knowing somewhere, someone or some thing soon
would suffer the same funereal fate.
Guilty because I live to love this day
sans mother, father, brother and sister.
A cumulus cloud snuck across the sun
further darkening my melancholy.
I grudgingly gazed down at my fleshy
bier, still cradling the feathery corpse.
The cloud continued it's eternal course
across the sunlit sky showering me
with prodigious, radiant rays once more.
I knelt and scooped a shallow roadside grave
and placed the little lifeless bird inside
while elegiac verses passed my lips.
As the last of the moistened earth covered
the unmarked grave I gave thanks to my God
for this solemn Sunday reminiscence.
I hopped back on my bike and sped away
with the profoundest feeling of His Love.


Details | Ballad | |

IF A BIRD SHALL FALL

If a bird shall fall... 
Where will it go? 
It cannot call... 
It cannot glow 

If a bird shall fall... 
in a clear sky 
I will hold it to my breast 
Breathe into its' soul 
and let it go 
Let it fly......... 
To find its' nest 

If a bird shall fall.... 
in the acres of your mind 
Hold it tight 
and you will find.... 
With a soft gentle blow 
It will fly into the light 
Your hands.... 
Traced with golden glow 

If a bird shall fall... 
Bring it to me 
For, a soft gentle blow 
and I will set it free 

If a bird shall fall... 
on to the ground 
Hush! 
Hear the sound.... 
A gentle blow... 
Bird all aglow 
Beating heart........ 
Beating wings........ 
Little bird sings........ 

If a bird shall fall... 
Pick it up in no time at all 
Blow on a heart so still... 
Until... 
The wings glow 
and with a soft kiss 
Let it go