Before man, there was only twilight upon the earth. The earth was divided by two realms, realms, not kingdoms; one above the earth, the Sky, ruled by the birds. The other, the Land, upon the earth, ruled by the beasts.
In the sky, among the clouds, was a large pile of firewood. How it got there is unknown.
It is believed to be there as a resting place for birds not wanting to rest on land.
One twilight, an enormous eagle dove toward the land. His dive caused an emu on the land to panic, thinking it was being attacked, the emu jumped up and struck the eagle.
The eagle and the emu began a heated argument, then began to fight. The emu, in anger, plucked an eagle feather. The eagle, in its rage, swooped over to the emu nest, grabbing one of her huge eggs in its beak, soared skyward.
As the eagle climbed, he swung his head throwing the egg higher into the sky. The emu
screeched in horror as the egg smashed against the firewood. The yoke breaking, sparked, igniting the firewood, lighting up both realms of the earth.
Suddenly, the earth was bright and beautiful. All were dazzled, but soon relaxed, as the
fire begin to warm. The leader of the Sky saw the light and the warmth it produced as good.
He saw as the fire burned, it produced more heat and comforted all. It also began to
decrease the light and got cooler as the firewood went out. This was a bad thing, he
called all the birds together to gather firewood to keep the fire burning.
As the fire became coals, the light again returned to twilight and darkness.
The birds worked for hours to replenish the firewood.
As they began to pile wood upon the coals, the fire reignited. As the fire got bigger,
there was more light, and warmth.
When the birds had piled on all the wood gathered, the fire again began to decrease in
light and warmth.
Again each twilight, the birds would gather firewood for hours.
After an undetermined time, light and the darkness defined. As the earth warmed and became more beautiful, the realms became one.
The Spirit of the earth saw what the birds had done and what had become of the earth was good. He moved the fire outward from the earth and made it burn all the time.
He made the earth turn. Day and night were created. The birds and the beasts were one with the earth.
The spirit of the earth was pleased. He had created the heavens and the earth, reaching into the earth, he grabbed a handful of dirt in his hands, Smiling, saying all is good, He created Man.
by Odin Roark
Sitting astride his backpack,
A roadside nomadic looked up from his book.
The sun oppressing,
The sand distressing,
The bird noise progressing.
“From where came your right
To straddle fence wire and incessantly complain
With pompous cawing at a resting traveler,
As if he didn’t belong?
Who made you judge and jury for speeding cars
Trying to avoid your missile-like whitewash
As they chase setting suns
And see me only as a roadside shadow?
What do you know of windblown highway ditches as nightly shelter,
Or roadside memorials of white-cross remembrances,
All kinds of lives suddenly stopped?
Rather than making all that commotion,
Wouldn’t you be better off listening a little more,
Enjoying the fluttering quiet of those beautiful black-opal wings,
As you swoop in on sign posts and rusted-out abandoned cars?
What’s with your nasty disposition, anyway?
And why aren’t you carrying on like the raven you are,
Instead of the your noisy lessor specie, the crow?
Oh never mind.
Just shove off.
Let me have some peace
While I work through Poe’s take on your gnarly purpose.
Better still, just shut up and listen.”
‘And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!’
“See what I mean…
Maybe this Poe fella is trying to explain
Neither one of us is gonna live forever,
Now, if only, they would cut the damn property tax!
Maybe, the elderly wouln’t have to loose their homes and move to Florida!
Maybe, a God fearin minority member could live here and own a piece of it?
Hello out there in WASP land..
say hey To the folks in Green witch!
Governor Jodi Rell our version of the wicked witch of the east
crossed with Mrs. Ward Cleaver
is out there pounding the proverbial pavement
looking to balance the ole budget AGAIN!
Hit the road Jack and don’t ya Come Back No Mo, No Mo, No Mo, No……..
say the local daughters of the D.A.R. and the Ladies of the Eastern Star
to the rise of minorities in the local school …..
The Good Ole Nutmeg state has quite a mix
hell just about anything goes here!
Land of the Free home of the Brave,
you can even get a state certified Gay marriage
Robin Red breast ain’t our state bird for nothing
one of the first 3 states to protect the early bird getting the worm!
Yup Con neck tee cut is a fine place to live and grow trees
Y’all come up some time for a visit..
just don’t head for the shore cause you can’t get to it
Snob Zoning and All….
You can find just about anything you need
here in the good ole Nutmeg state
(did you know you can get high on Nutmeg?)
have legal hallucinates will travel
so join the local nuts SOUPERS
and come for a visit
just don’t stay too long.
Pigeons And Falcon
Thousands of pigeons flock to the Vatican
They are not there for Sunday Mass and prayer
But to perform aerial acrobatics
And to produce droppings from up there
Feathers follow them in the air on hot dry currents
Unpleasant summertime aromas fill St. Peter’s square
People speaking a multitude of languages stare in amazement
Follow the waves and movements of the birds in flight
And think of pigeons as nasty filthy creatures
(in their respective dialects of course)
They seek God in all His perfections and dwell on nature as they reflect
But that is not manna falling from the heavens on arms and hair
Bird droppings fall everywhere
Enter, the noble falcon on the scene
Hungry and hunting for something delicious to eat
Like an angel or saint swooping down on a golden band of light
Pigeons act purely on reflex as they take flight
Without lofty thoughts or motives
Their brains are oh so tiny and miniscule
Not wired like that
Falcon will educate them anyway
Enforce the rules of God and nature
2 Our Father’s, 3 Hail Mary’s and a good act of contrition
Are not required as penance for their sins
They are expelled from this paradise for dropping in
Pigeons simply don’t understand religion
A bird lays an egg
She keeps it warm
It starts to crack
And it hatches, during a heavy storm
It was a beautiful Lorrikeet
You could tell mother bird was proud
So out of her own happiness
She joyfully tweeted aloud
Time to fly, little Lorrikeet
Mother Bird encourages him
So he jumps off the tree
And swoops through the sky like a queen bee
On a quiet night
A van pulls up to the tree
A shadowy figure scales it well
And he was tranquilized, faster than you could to five
Daybreak in a pet shop
He was in a cage, that's all Lorrikeet knew
Surrounded by a rainbow of birds
Name a bird and It was in view
The other birds learnt of Lorrikeet's intelligence
But then they bullied him for it
Lorrikeet grew depressed
There was no bird to make him not want to throw himself in a pit
So Lorrikeet was trapped
Trapped in a cruel world of hate
One day he'll be free
But there is no specified date
But then a little girl walked into the Pet store
But like anyone her age, she was looking at the puppies
Little girl asked Mum for a pup, but she said no
But then the tears roll down her face, What a sad show
Then something is spied in the corner of her eye
The beautiful Lorrikeet looking out of the glass cage
The little girl runs up to the cage and admires the beauty of the birds
Which are staring at the girl like one giant herd
The little girl decided for ages
Deciding which bird. There were cages and cages
But then Lorrikeet tweeted. Oh It was beautiful like a flute
The Little girl said it was a lovely toot
And so Lorrikeet was chosen
Chosen to be taken home by this sweet innocent child
Lorrikeet was happy to leave the cage of sorrow
He'll be playing with bells and eating the finest seed this time tomorrow
I wrote this poem to teach that through the hardship of bullying, victims can go on to
live long fulfilling lives. Which is the only thing that keeps my head high :)
She watched the mountain intently
Like a bird who’s nestling of dwelling, complains
Yet, neither will move --
A surge of genius
Strikes the hollowed core ~
Worrisome thoughts she shan’t abide…
A mother’s love still strives,
Strong willed fledgling must now -- fly
Search to build, its -- own nest
-- Mother bird soars above the mountain -- mind at rest
An elder once said teach them well in the ways they must go… Like a hawk one must keep a
watchful eye for they are still your prizes; you never know when they may come home to
roost again... Or at least visit…
However, if they can't respect the home then its time
For them to fly on their own...
A man was frightened and entered into a room,
He fell in the corner and touched a broom,
He read that wording to touch a middle pot,
You can get some money that’s I have lot.
When he touched a pot it grew up a tree,
Please pour me water otherwise you aren’t free.
He picked a pot and starts to search water,
When he found a well he heard a loud laughter,
I need someone’s blood if you need pot water,
Otherwise don’t blame me I have a man slaughter,
He suddenly saw a bird and thought to kill him,
But bird said, you can slaughter me first go and tell him.
He told him to the well, I have a bird to kill,
Do you accept the blood that is only my thrill?
Mice heard the talk and he got a shock,
Why is he killing a bird, he has blood hoick?
Why is your heart n’t kind and have no mercy?
Please forgive him a bird I have a clue courtesy,
I can cut your wein you can donate blood to a well,
I am offering my friendship, that’s my thrill.
He was happy to donate blood and got water a pot,
When he poured water to a tree he laughed lot,
A big fish eats a little never have a mercy thought,
Friendship can solve a problem that’s my money pot.
A little Bird,
Moved for living,
He had chosen a tree,
When he saw his native man.
He didn’t frightened,
He welcomed him and sang a song,
Tried to fragrant his love,
And danced on the branches.
One day a guest came,
And parked his car under the tree,
When he saw the bird droppings
He stared into the man’s eyes.
He felt insult,
He had decided to cut down the tree,
He didn’t notice,
Baby birds are growing in the nest,
Tree fell down on his mouth,
They cut the branches in pieces,
When a cat saw the little birds,
They were hiding for their life.
A Man was standing in front,
He didn’t stop them,
He provoked her,
Innocents were her taste.
A bird was crying above the shade,
He noticed, a dog, cat and man,
Everyone was dumb and deaf,
No bird came back to sing them a song.