Best Avian Poems
...to the finessed fowl
humming by my ear tell me
Did anyone ever tell you
just how glad they are
to have you here?
Poignant eyes, azure crown,
that lightasapenny frame...
(how monstrous we must appear!
our human eyes like soccer balls)
We have only God to blame...
...and our senses to thank
for perceiving such a lovely scene
right here in our midst:
organic motors in a danceswirlblur,
taking quicksips of wine
through a toothpick straw
(do I need to make a list?)
Well, how about this:
pleasantly economical,
tenderly blue-breasted,
(quicker than a shuriken star?
you guessed it!)
And O how I would shield you
from anything that came your way
My palms would be your perch...
My fingers be your bars...
But alas, none such as you,
could ever be cast into a cage
(for the angels would rage!
and even the most committed readers
would surely turn the page)
But rest assured
I wouldn't dream deprive you of your feast
of purple watermelon splendor
(those pretty pearls of amethyst
are yours to conquer!)
O Caffeinated Contraption...
O Sweet Dream of Buzzing Thoughts...
You could be crushed like a pop can
at the flippant cruelty of man...
...but who would dare?
blasphemy to merely think it,
'twould be an acceptable breach of free speech
to burn the words that expressed it
(fly free, oh sweet heresy,
into the ashen breeze)
"There's nothing more beautiful than you."
said the God
who placed each feather in
with such gingercare
and thoughtful pause--
(His Cosmic Hands caught
in the Avian Lego Jar,
smirking at the plasticity
of His own laws)
My car was parked beneath a tree,
More gingkoish than oaken;
I never noticed birds a’perched,
Yet each one left a token.
The windshield was opaquely masked;
The roof and sides were splattered.
They missed the turned-in mirror,
Though that hardly even mattered.
You really had to give them props;
They surely were effective
In doing such a thorough job –
I held off my invective.
We call somebody bird-brain
When we denigrate their smarts,
But mischief made of droppings
Proves their humor’s off the charts!
A chickadee flew up to me
And chirped out a request -
Please fill the backyard feeder
‘Fore I head back to my nest.
I had indeed put out some feed
But clearly not enough,
So other birds had polished off
The nuts and fruits and stuff.
I would have bet I’d never get
A message that’s been tweeted,
But I complied, for even birds
Get angry feeling cheated.
When night casts shadows on the ground
The robin, distant, croons
Avian tones, enthralled by dreams
While stars glaze like festoons.
Ringlets of clouds, like puffs on flight
The silhouette of trees,
Nocturnal sighs and murmurings
Are caught up in the breeze.
Then, the new moon appears above
Her white face shyly peeps,
Light breaks so softly, glows the wings
As nest of duskfall sleeps.
Yet birdland rustles through the leaves
Jays trill on bush and thorn;
Where cardinal's imprints pass
Across the dappled lawn.
Soon these plumed wonders of the dark
Close down for daytime's rest,
To gather strength for next eve's rites
Unfolding at their best.
For The Birds Contest
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
11/2/2015
I once went out on a blind date
But that'll never happen again
A not so pleasant experience
When I was set up by a friend
He said, "She has but one problem,"
"I noticed as she crossed the street,"
"It's avian in nature, because"
"She has what you'd call crows feet!"
I said, "Well I'm no spring chicken,"
"And I'm a little weathered myself"
So I grabbed hold of that comment
And put it on my "So what" shelf!
I admit that I was nervous
Knocking on the door of her place
But was most, pleasantly surprised
When I saw her angelic face!
She was gorgeous from head to knee
But how was I suppose to know
Below that, I was shocked to see,
She did have the feet of a crow!
A hen in my yard.
Time to clip some wing feathers;
Chicken adventure!
Avian Compassion
Revolting as the world can be
Another war another drought
No food no shelter empty shells
Displacement dire dereliction
Oblivious flies on broken skin
Macario the blessed one awaits
Knowing that there is no place
In agony has given up on life
No dreams no destiny just
Desert demise emaciated
‘Nothing’ forgotten cast aside
Eviscerated vulture fare the bird
Shares a mutilated random carcass
So much for human acts of kindness
28th January 2017
I know it's highly unconvincing, Mrs Blackwell;
an unimaginable storyline no doubt.
In all your years of teaching science at St Hilda's
you must have thought our wild excuses would run out.
I know you'll calculate with ease my fabrication
but hope my alibi will raise a passing smile
for even scientific minds abrim with logic
can set imagination free once in a while.
And so to tell it in a nutshell Mrs Blackwell
last night a swarm of flying reptiles hit the town
and gazing upwards with increasing consternation
I noticed one was breaking rank and swooping down.
Then with a thud it landed right outside my window
its sturdy beak began to smash through my defence
I had to pinch myself to check I wasn't dreaming
for such Jurassic visions counter common sense.
And then the flaming pterodactyl ate my homework
and Mrs Blackwell, I do hope you'll understand
that when a flying reptile lands inside your bedroom
events will rarely go as smoothly as you'd planned!
10.02.21
...And Then A Flaming Pterodactyl Ate My Homework Poetry Contest
Sponsor : John Lawless
From my kitchen window
I can pass a pleasant while.
Callers to my bird table
They always make me smile.
Crowds of busy sparrows
Make an early morning call.
Then appears the robin,
He likes to boss them all.
Raucous squabbling starlings,
Noisy, loud and rude.
A riot on the wing,
Fighting anyone for food.
Then come the ****,
The great, the coal the blue
And some days, a nice surprise
A bullfinch passes through.
Then arrive the goldfinches
The prettiest of them all.
Painted little charmers,
All dressed up for a ball.
So there I stand
With my morning cup of tea,
As an avian delight
Plays out in front of me.
Avian life of mine
Blooms with wishes divine
Candle - one more added
Days with joy - so padded
Eid too joins the party
Full moon blesses us - hearty
Grandeur unveils autumn
Hard rock shows us green thumb
Iambic feet of three
Joins to form poetry
Kingly gest of season
Lets love play in vision
Moments lived with pleasure
Narrate hidden treasure
Opulent love from you
Plethora brought anew
(C) Anindya Mohan Tagore (Bobby)
Like a balloon, I am tethered
Cares, like strings,
tie me down
‘Til the light of dreams
comes to me
and severs my binding,
releasing me from my earthly burden
Not only do I fly from consciousness,
but from the earth itself,
which, like a pebble,
becomes small,
insignificant.
Warm winds carry me
I let them take me wherever they wish
and follow gladly,
leaving behind my vexations
that held me, like an anchor,
to the ground
To the wind gods, I pray
to lift me up,
and make me forget that
Solicitude ever whispered its words in my ear
Soaring above the clouds,
I feel as if I can do anything
Boundless possibility--
like the endless horizon before me--
no ceiling, just sky
Limitless, free
Grey clouds are hovering near.
Winter's chill will soon be here.
Avian are taking flight,
pausing to roost for the night,
but only for a brief time
then on to a warmer clime.
Flocks fly on fine feathered wing,
migrating, they trill and sing.
To return in spring to nest.
At journey's end they will rest
before baby chicks arrive,
so the species will survive.
Richi, Liz and Boris,
which one will the fountain bless?
What wise owl flies to our aid
and pulls us from this mess?
Vultures make lazy circles
and falcons loop the loop.
Maybe they won't say boo to a goose
or are they planning when to swoop?
Keir Starmer's counting chickens,
but here there is a catch.
How long does he have to wait
before those chicklets hatch?
Nests of weaver birds
hanging down from the palmyra palm
An example for community living ?
exclaimed my friend a realtor ;
his friend an architect said
it is all awesome my friend.....hm...
absolutely unbelievable, the
' handy' work of such tiny black-beaked
yellow-bellied ploceidae -the weaver birds !
I have no hesitation to call these sparrows
avian architects even human architects,
my clan may ever match in excellence !
and his friend who formed one among us
bird watchers.... a seasoned textile engineer
hath said this unhesitatingly, 'my God
what I am seeing on this palm ,,, these nests
of weaver birds.... can I call it the
'hanging textile work of avian genius!
absolutely beautiful and heavenly.....
I fail to describe any further....I am stunned 'he further said.
As we were thus watching these nests in awe
night's darkness came hanging... soon to be
driven by the rays of cool stunning silvery moonlight
the light focussed on these nests of weavers
transformed them at once into
heavenly nests of silver ....
with a hear unwilling to leave
we bid 'adieu.... to these birds of wonder
treading on the coastal silvery sands
like angels in a wonder land.
As robins forage on the lawn,
their last pre-frost hunt, and
feast within the berried trees,
I wonder if they think upon
an old disheveled nest
and recall at all their youth
within its sheltered folds;
as we might ponder
while passing by
our old childhood home.
Or, do they simply move along
- time being too valuable
for sentimental recollections.
Inspired by the poetry of Robert Frost