Three of my chickens are dead and they have left a hole in my heart,
I want to mark their passing, prove that they were alive and very much loved by me,
They were real, breathing and full of life from the start,
Oh they made me laugh, so hilarious and quirky; such fun hidden away on our allotment,
They did no great deeds, were not famous and hardly anyone knew they were there,
Alert and trusting, they followed my steps, looked at me with their heads to one side, wondering and seeing,
They slept in my arms and closed their tiny eyes when I stroked under their beaks,
Laid eggs and loved wholemeal bread, sometimes combining the two in to a healthy treat in their run, pecking and pinching whatever they could,
Stood on my spade when I was trying to dig, and ate the biggest worms I ever did see,
Had me running in circles to catch them, jumped out of the hutch when I thought I’d put them in,
Kicked over their food tin so I’d give them more and always hid in the shed,
Rearranged their sleeping compartments when I had just cleaned them out, kicking the neat straw all over,
Ate all of my winter cabbages and nibbled at my sprouts, sat on the compost heap and looked around, Queens of the allotment!
Were brave in the face of danger, survived against the odds,
When poorly, they slept cozily in my basement, and understood when it was time to die,
They may have only been chickens to most, but to me they were my friends,
Always pleased to see me, they needed me, and greeted me loudly every day,
Three lives have been taken, but I will not forget them,
I will look back and smile, and talk kindly of Muriel, Edith and Ethel,
For they were the three hens that taught me that all life is precious, no matter how unnoticeable and small.
Farewell, then, AUKN boss,
The next this year makes three.
By the time they find a substitute,
Slovenes will be at sea.
He tried to cover his behind;
AUKN boss of bosses,
As every week, balances grew bleak:
He weighed merits and losses.
With all this he'd no time to eat,
And round and round he flew.
And now he's split in a hissy-fit;
So helmsman, too-de-loo!
Day after day, day after day,
He drifted on the ocean;
Guano-vernment rained on his ship
Their suggestions for promotion.
Cousins, cousins, everywhere,
Corporate boards crosslink;
Cousins, cousins, everywhere,
Let's take you for a drink.
Accountants talking rot: O Christ!
Missions, visions - oh please!
Yea, slimy characters need legs
And slimy policies.
So has he done an hellish thing?
Not hired who? We dunno:
Was it absurd, to have a separate curd
From the whey Slovenia owes?
This wretch won't play, after 60 days;
Pissflaps, he'll have to go!
God help ya, gospod Bencina
From the fiends, that plague us thus! -
It's time to go — shot like cross-bow,
The AUKN boss.
Ah! walk-out day! what evil looks
Had I from Ernst and Young!
Who's at a loss? AUKN's boss
Wouldn't take a bung?
"You'll be" quoth one, "abolished - no
Stigma to double-cross."
He chose to go - why? We don't know:
Harmless AUKN boss.
Re-reading the original gave me a great idea for dinner until I realised all the storks have all flapped off to Africa for the winter. Pity, as I have some ancient marinade from Tuš. Like the subject of the poem, I didn't have the stamina for a Coleridge-length effort.
The National Poet Of Slovenia In A Language People Understand interprets important Slovenian affairs for the non-Slovene speaking world. www.maria.si
Let me go
show me out the door with kind words
I want you to Love me ..
not punish by Force
My Prison, my warden
Let me go
My choice to be Free
Free of suppression, of my own creativity
let me decide for myself
Let me go
let go of me gracefully
I belong to myself , children and God
Let me go , let go of me
I am free
to choose to love and give
I am Free
from what burdens me
now I am Free
Don't watch my footsteps disappear
in search of ephemeral rocks to anchor
But wait with me to gather spirits
so I won't be afraid of Sunsets...
When orange melts away in darkness
Just stay with me until it's over
Caress my stranded fins with Dawn
Please do Not cry..I will be... Home...
(author of "f Lava of My Soul")
Isn't it strange?
That death can clip away the canary?
One might cease to wonder!
Death, why thou smile?
Only of transformation,
Have you perfected!
But can the memoirs be cast away?
All birds know its beauty,
All Lords know its strength!
Strength in making many miss,
Sorrow, fear, yet, a forlorn look.
Who shall sound the note?
Who shall say more of the canary than its deeds!
Canary's wings; now a sight of old,
Canary's voice; a slight hammer when remembered.
Tell tales of the canary,
She has only changed it form!
Eagles and its hosts, pay tributes
Bravehearts smile aside your lay,
Strong ones share your tales,
For death; rejoiceth,
Knowing not, a transformation done!
I fear not for transformation,
I fear not for th cold wings of sly
While I cease not to ponder,
Like men of days,
Death; be not proud, yet,
An indispensable ally.