I am a heart full of love
that shook the pilars that held her colussium up
her heart filled with sorrow,
I swing such fury toward her heart and soul
she cowards away from me,
in fear of falling in love and not knowing what is in black
and not searching what is in the light of pure white.
I am a heart full of love,
she runs and takes the long dirt road,
through the raging mountains of the quiet countryside,
as the meadows of lilacs slowly die when Spring comes,
the blooming of the rose,
like the blooming of my heart,
a blossom on a cherry tree fall and harbour in the wintertime.
I swing toward her, she falls in fear of wanting attention and love.
Lost in the midnight twilight,
the flaming torch guides her through the dark holes of meaningless souls.
and like a frightened hummingbird,
she flees away from the secrets of falling in love.
A heart full of love ready to love,
it is diffcult to feel and to show,
but as if a rose that blooms in Springtime
my love is ready to bloom.
Pettles lay along a darkened atmosphere
lit up only with four wax candles
a portrait of a woman hung over a mantel piece
in honour of my one true love.
As the twilight shine though my bedroom window,
I show a heart full of love,
to take and to hold for eternity.
And as she slowly moves forward,
she takes me home with her,
and opens her chest and shows me her heart
with a glass of red wine and charming cigarette.
She sheads tears of pain and sorrow on my broud shoulder,
I curise her hair, silk laced hair,
shining against the twilight and the moonlit sky.
My heart full of love,
so divine, so original
a one of a kind.
We make love in the midst of the twilight,
as my dream girl is now reality and my pain is no more,
her pain is no more.
Too show such love makes a man feel free
and his soul lighter.
She holds him there,
as the sun rises over the mountains.
The birds sing a tune of cheerfulness,
and they talk about everything beautiful and kind,
that is still left in this cruel and empty hearted world.
Romance and love shared
with a heart full of love,
smile and kiss upon smooth lips,
feel me against your tight body,
and love me till the morning
when Blue eyed Death is staring us in the face.
and we go with him,
and play a game of risk,
and together forever,
onto a diffrent world
we shall love each other forever,
for you and I both have a heart full of love.
Copyright © Chris Boskovski
Proclaim thee a Lady?
Oh, they of ignorant mind
Neither good or bad, but human, this man
Vexed of own passion, o' cunning love
Keep'st eyes blinded of all thy own wisdom and trust
Lest eyes well-seeing thy lady's foul faults shall find
Thy woman of past indiscretion, hath scarlet ribboned veins
Unknowing from whence cameth thou, she
Fancy fleeting bird be now belied
Wilt he never see her feathered locks, promiscuity?...
How boldly foolish is his name!
That on himself such murd'rous shame commits
What haste and wile steals thy seasoned eye?
Yea, who tamed the sea, yet drowns in thee?
While wed to one, yet flys away
Against tongued wrath, society
Against cruel slander of thy fame
Against the wind, self dignity
Fancy fleeting bird wilt you, fly on scalded wings
With scandal your offerings
Till own death near, to die in shame 'tis worth the game?
To shun the heaven that leads a man to hell?
"Old English Scandal" Lady Hamilton
Copyright © Carrie Richards
Walking in the meadow of life on that summer day
Where she always loved to be at Una walked along the steady stream
As she picked up the white Lilly flower and put upon her hair of gold (princess of love)
And the daughter of a dander king
Una suddenly turned her head to the old orchard tree and begun to sing roman lullabies of joy
With tears of affection shed for the god who lives above the skies
At that moment she gazed back to the stream
And there the lion stood so tall just like a king eyes wide looked to una
As she went toward the mighty lion he went to her and utter'd thee words
I am a creature of pride with nothing to hide I am pure of heart true of courage with a mask of savage a mane gold as our hearts-
She became very happy and intrigued
As she laid her gentle hands on upon the lion she spoke these words
-I love thee lion and by sun and moon I love thee freely as men strive for right;
I love thee purely in my old griefs and childhood's faith
There a tiny lamb appears right next to her and the lion
So small and graceful like a gift from god above
The tiny lamb followed them further into the enchanted meadow sky as crystal blue and the wind is calm they drifted off strung into the world
To bring new love joy and courage to the world and spread good faith
Copyright © Brian Otoole
She lets out her hand that holds the bird feed
Inviting birds to come and take a bite
There’s one brave soul that does come on over
And he feasts on the seed that she carries
Then more and more of them come on to her
Some sit on her shoulders, others sit near
In her other hand sits more feed for them
And they flock there as well to eat some more
They eat with a flourish, making a mess
Seed falls onto the ground, birds eat there too
She’s surrounded totally by these fowl
But unafraid she is, loving each heart
These birds are her friends, always there for her
Never do they judge her or frown on her
They are always glad to see her come by
They predict her coming and are waiting
And she is constantly there on the dot
Same time each day she comes with her bird feed
Wanting to share it with her lovely friends
She’s mesmerized by their tenacity
They’re persistent to try and get their food
To survive, that is why they are focused
And they work at it good pecking the food
Surely she loves to share her life with them
Nothing will ever tear the birds from her
They’ll live forever in her tender heart
Even when she is gone and has passed on
The birds will still look for her to come there
Copyright © Russell Sivey
How many poetry books = 1 Nissan Pathfinder exhaust system.
How many bluebirds? Money is how we thank people for what makes
How we express our love and gratitude.
Weight and moods, up and down, with weather and outcome of
I am so sick of humanity, people. Wouldn't I prefer chickadees?
Then I get home, that is the comfortable tree hole I've been longing for.
Aaron pitches and plays piano. Zach likes lacrosse and math.
The mound was soft, sand, with a hole big enough for an urn or to hide a
But Aaron pitched carefully anyway, slow strikes and the opposing team
What would God's work be? Meaningless question. Today's schedule:
Write fund raising letters, conserve small farms. Local food, local jobs.
Don't transport food coast to coast. Save fuel, less CO2.
In my opinion the dislocations resulting from climate change and global
warming will be within man's adaptive capacity. On the other hand.
Also, green industry will open a vast employment market, a job for every
The good life, unsustainable, we're poisoning our children although my
children are not so poisoned. They're bald. Unusually bald. Good
looking bald. Future of man bald. Happy bald.
Bald eagle. Nesting, mating near Karen Sheldon's, a conservationist,
philanthropist, on the river, whose husband recently died. During
romantic dinner on a second honeymoon in Paris, so I've heard.
That's Jake's spirit come home as an eagle, Karen said. Isn't that
great, I said, and the she-eagle he's nesting with!
-I'm gonna kill that bitch.
Compare Captain Carpenter and In a Prominent Bar in Secaucus One
Day. In each case the hero's (heroine's) body declining
Under life's duress. Anything located in Secaucus, NJ could not be
considered prominent, could it?
In the end, clack clack takes all. Hard to end a poem better than that.
Clack clack the crow's beak, upper and lower mandibles meeting.
From hunger, or it just does. Crows clack clack to communicate.
Whitman's greatest poem is Out of the Cradle . . . also involving
communicating birds, in what is initially an embarrassingly emotional
display. All that italicized moaning and yearning. Get away.
Then, clack clack, he turns on you. Death lisping, straight into your eyes.
Suddenly you realize you should have taken him seriously, been
In the meantime, traffic, corn, new exhaust system, ask for money, save
farms, poor people, sun on garden, whole wide world, wars, stars.
I gave up long ago on a quiet world. Now going deaf. Then it will be
quiet, too quiet.
No more birding by ear. "No more fucking." I mean really . . . I was
moved as anyone by Hall's honest poem about Jane dying and I
guess fucking can be music to someone's melody, stand for living,
but not me.
No more birding would have had more meaning. I'd rather bird than
fuck. No more fucking, no more worry, no more war.
Which is why I'm gonna kill that bitch is so funny, such a life-affirming
At first I worried Karen really believed the eagle is her husband. Maybe
But that punch line makes her the kind of woman I want to know.
Copyright © Robert Ronnow
That one sweet moment
when the harpy's song is gone
Peace, once again, reigns
Copyright © Renee Kelly
Tree of life
Copyright © RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY
I saw a little bird sitting in a tree,
I could see him he could see me,
He pecked at an apple and sang,
And through woods his song rang,
Happy he had anther little peck,
I smiled as the apple went down his neck,
It flapped its wings but did not fly,
He watched another bird float by,
He turned around and did a dance,
So I did the same just by chance,
We both waltzed around the tree,
I flapped my arms he laughed at me,
A man was watching close by
He asked if he could join in and try,
So two men and a bird wriggled,
A woman joined in and she jiggled,
Another woman and her pet,
She was good the best yet,
Then everyone in the park,
Strutted their stuff until dark,
As each left they gave a wave,
It's my first time at a rave.
Copyright © Terry Trainor
Maya met her Socrates
public examination of her life
and writing down her hypotheses -
female blackness a caged bird's life
singing often, singing she arrived
from uncivil lessons on civil rights
to stand-up straight and thrive
in beauty - with rhythm besides
Marguerite Johnson is dead
but Angelou will arise
to see life wondrous instead
with dark-brown soulful eyes
mourn not that her life is passed
celebrate that it was expressed
© goodguysoul 2014-05-28
Copyright © Goode Guy
She extends her hearing there
A bird chirps along
Copyright © Russell Sivey
All I am to you
All I am
A shiny mirror
Which shouts your beauty.
Copyright © Dean Marais
outside the picture window
which provided pleasure to the
whose days of raising their own
were long gone in the past,
a mother blue jay had two babies &
the couple watched the whole thing
for the nest had been built
in the lilac tree
which had been planted years ago
right beneath the window.
one day, the red squirrel,
whom the family dog had been
chasing for such a long time,
the two had become something of
a morning novelty,
had climbed up the tree &
killed one of the babies while
its mother wasn’t home.
when the couple discovered that the
baby had been killed,
as some remnants were left which could
be seen from the window,
they were quite distraught to say the least
the death of the little bird kept them up
late at night for the next few nights.
while the old woman pleaded with “god,”
proclaiming “why! why! why!” when
she got up in the middle of the night,
as if one of her own children had died,
the old man told her that it had been
evolution which dealt with the matter---
mother bird had not built the nest
high enough, and so the red squirrel
had been able to get at the new babies.
the old woman pleaded with her husband,
saying that red squirrels didn’t even eat meat!
the old man said that they did,
she just hadn’t seen them, or perhaps the
squirrel just never got so lucky---
“they got to get their protein somewhere,”
then she went on saying that the squirrel
could get that from nuts &
so it went on & on.
after a few days went by
the large rat traps in the garage coupled with
the large wads of peanut butter used by the
to lure in the squirrel,
did in fact succeed in killing it &
the old woman then felt justified.
‘“god” wanted him dead,” she said &
the old man, carrying the trap with the squirrel’s
neck broken & bloody, ready to hurl the whole
thing in the woods remarked with a smile,
evolution dealt with the matter.”
Copyright © andrew delapruch