Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership


Bird Memory Poems | Bird Poems About Memory

These Bird Memory poems are examples of Bird poems about Memory. These are the best examples of Bird Memory 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 | Acrostic | |

Your Eyes

 (Dedicated to Folake)

Your eyes, woman
are like twilight rainbow
amorously bearing aloft passions of mine
toward androcytic ecstacy.
They tell of endless lights.

Night skies clarion the warmth of you
keep me balled-up till
i am tilted to your adorned essence.

May I call up words to adore you,
agglomerate them into a panoply of worshippers
unsandalled before you
like Moses at the burning bush.
 
And now you seem to fall asleep
but you tell me it's the heavy night
bidding toward a sunny dawn
wherein our love is lighted.

Slowly I let you fall asleep
impatient with the long night
waiting to gaze once more
into the eyes of my lovely love.

Then a lip is placed on yours
and you rouse up wide-eyed
smiling at my romantic move.
We enjoyed the night, cruising on.


Details | ABC | |

Grey Bird

On that cloudy weekend in June 
I hear a soft and graceful tune 
from the grey bird on the tree 
branch 
Singing sweet lullabies felt 
blessed in the moment 
My body tingles of joy at sight 
Gazing out through 
my open door,
Letting thoughts fly free
Releasing love out into the horizon 
Heart filled with emotion came 
over me 
Grey bird stood playing its tune 
for awhile and on the wings of 
letting go
Then as the rain fell from the 
sky the grey bird flew away 
gracefully 
I blew a kiss to the clouds and 
utterd these simple words of I 
Love You father ( who's now in 
heaven ) and yet I hope to hear 
that grey bird sing again once 
more for me 
Farewell, love your son

Poem contest for Debbie -referential


Details | Haiku | |

Glowing Reminiscence

Basking in moonlight,
Old birds remember the nest.
Ruffles my feathers.


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 | 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 | |

Even More of the Flightless

3 
Pay attention! 
Important chicken poetry coming up, 
though no binary fantasies shall deconstruct 
into raucous biddy enjambment. 


4 
Grandfatber always kicked Grandmother's chickens away 
while he sat whittling under the Oak, 
Those ruddy, Cherokee cheeks sweating even in the shade 
as sweltering Carolina summers and bifocaled 
old women melted him away in his seventies; 
(Nothing heard by telephone, 
cackling when he put the speaker to his mouth 
or laid down to rest from the planting or harvesting, 
On the flowered sofa 
fussing with him to take off this boots, 
putting The Liberty News under his feet); 

But watching was Grandma's joy, 
Haystack Calhoun and the Nature Boy, 
wrestling on Saturday night 
on the Philco black and white, 
jumping up and jumping down 
fists flying with each takedown; 

Her fussing when he kicked her chickens-- 
He was a man of the Land not of the Leghorn; 
Course he still cut off their heads for 
Sunday dinners 
with a whistle of his axe, 
quick and clean; 
So much better than Grandmother's 
Flung blood and feathers, 
The live body's flight 
After wringing its neck. 

(You really 
Must take chickens seriously.) 


5 
Jesus, 
my brother and I hated that rooster! 
Mean! 
I'll give you Mean! 
Why that Leghorn from hell, 
with the perfidious, featherless rear, 
That wily old bastard, 
laid for us kids from under the porch 
flying at us spurs first 
when we snuck out to play. 
You had to admire his fierce 
Protecting his brood 
or just plain crazed for children's blood 
maybe. 
Therefore, I must insist 
That you take chickens seriously. 


6 
The greatest chicken lit will not be televised, 
but written by neurotic poultry 
flirting with free verse 
or thrown helplessly into concrete idioms, 
wallowing in dirt-poor sentience; 
Dissertations 
on the identity crises of Rhode Island Reds 
and the propensity of White Leghorns 
to transfer insecurities of undifferentiated 
consciousness 
as violence enacted on certain small children 
will be written but will probably not help chicken poetry endure. 


7 
Yet, 
I pledge allegiance to the celebration of chicken poetry, 
And the underappreciated poultry for which it stands, 
One species, flightless but enduring, 
With free range and corn for all.