Best Clipped Poems
She clipped her faerie wings,
those gossamer monstrosities,
or so she was told by her "friends"
who said she never would fit in
with the everyday community.
She clipped her faerie wings
and cried because it would define her
as an ordinary creature,
no longer wondrous and magnificent
nor magical nor special.
She clipped her faerie wings
and wished she could undo it
for no amount of paring
could turn her into common folk
and something not contrary.
I miss so many things: the old pear tree, which once lived by the walk and the bees inside. The bees almost never stung, but made the most delightful buzz. The smell of the pear blossoms and the fruit as it rotted on the ground. I even miss the colonies of ants, which swarmed. You see, I chopped it down. Well, the bees stung my ex-husband, or, he was scared of the bees, or some such thing. The bees like the cat, knew more about the true core of the man than I did. Once the cat shat on his side of the bed, and pulled the sheet over it. Even then, I didn’t really hear nature’s call. I miss the rose bushes, which I tore out because of the June bugs. “Mustn’t have untidy, ugly, things around me,” fool that I was, and continue to be. I have almost eradicated the wild violets. Soon, even I will be gone. “Who will remember all that sweetness? Oh, the pear crisp with crumbled cinnamon crust on a Fall day, all gone.”
a mown lawn
stretches to the horizon –
a hedge clipper whir
The Rose Queen was a lesser villain than I. She was imaginary and I am real, or so I believe. “If you’d lived with Alice would you have played croquet with a flamingo club?”
First Published in Contemporary haibun January 2014
Clipped Wings
An icy salt spray begins to tarnish my feathers,
The salt is corroding.
That salt. It’s ingesting my plume, diluting true meaning
Teal turned navy. Crimson now brown.
I had keen pearlescent eyes,
Now clouded, they see nothing, nothing at all.
I can't even step foot behind the silver mirror; it's broken.
Shattered.
Shards of thick glass tease, reflecting,
Me.
I’m falling on the other side, no one’s there to catch,
I’ll just be a mess on the floor. A sad grey reflection.
I hid for a while, from the salt.
But I just knew that shelter
Wasn’t for me.
It wasn’t my home.
Tearing.
Splitting.
Moaning.
Begging.
Cold, salty concrete scraped my dignity away.
It tore my skin, left dirt in my bleeding feathers.
So again I hid. Not from the salt, I can’t hide from the salt.
I’m hiding from me.
I’m hiding from the reflection I can still see.
I chose to linger. I chose this. I didn’t choose this.
I watch as she stretches her magnificent wings wide, takes flight,
Ascending, dancing gaily between wisps of pure white.
I search the bare sky, salt is still in the breeze,
Taunting me; try fly with tarnished feathers.
But glinting, I see the green trees on an endless horizon
They are not a reflection, I tell myself.
So I stretch my broken wings and timidly I take flight,
Away from the salt, back towards myself under a silver moonlight.
Fluid soft moist and gentle
Drops of water over time
Can dissolve and wear away
The hardest rock to fade
And decay.
Just as an acid damning tongue
That derives pleasure
From causing emotional pain
And robbing a sensitive soul
If self esteem confidence
And living a fruitful life
Holding them back again and again.
Young minds are fertile
And can believe everything they are told
Burning self hate and apathy
In heart mind and soul.
Like a Bonzi tree with restricted growth
The control freak clips away
At the helpless
Brain washed In disarray.
Propaganda be the deadliest weapon.
Known to man
It can bring down a nation
Like the Nazi's did
Fulling hate
Or build a nation up
and make that nation great.
The box we have in all our homes
That we waych
Gives us subliminal messages
While in a semi hypnotic state
Be careful what you watch today
And may your heart be full of love and not hate.
And so tour children.
Peter Dome.copyright.2015. June.
With notes shredding ears homicidal,
contestants squawk madly to sidle
despite what they lack
they keep flocking back
to die on American Idol.
Birds don't fly with clipped wings
But here you are; flirtatious beyond boundaries. Now gazing at the limitless sky.
Take courage, you've cried enough. Wipe away the tears. Now is the time to take the reins.
In stale air, in every weakness, in every breathless state; all brought the beauty out of you.
Leave the rubbles behind, freedom awaits you. Howbeit that the effulgent now seeks after you.
Once absent, now it esteems you. Stretch out those wings, fly my birdie!
Fly above the storm. For nature never meant for you to fly. You overcame all obstacles and laughed at the hailstorm.
The irony was to keep you bound and lifeless; to keep you submerged and forgotten.
But now you can almost see the horizon.The colorful picturesque landscape; all coming into fruition at last.
My, my, my! What a beauty! So Illuminating. Such a tease! Who would've taught the clipped bird could fly?
See how she sores through the storm.
So love every moment. The sky is calling your name now.
My feathers clipped by ruthless time
Me in my prime
In a prison
Of life’s treason
Some strength ,still left inside my heart
To freshly start
To get going
Again flying
My patience helped ,to grow new wings
Those feathered things
A flight to dreams
Now, easy seems!!
11/10/12
By- Irfana ali Bhat
Contest- Just A Minute!
beneath breakers roar…
robin on the ocean floor
gurnards never soar
How I wished, free flow of wheels
No words to tell , "how it feels".
When vehicles swish
Well, well, well!
This is what I relish.
How I missed, the rumble and rush
Noisy Wide tyres! are my first crush
Fizzing of tyre
Well, well, well!
My Heart's on Fire.
How I mixed the soundtracks
Made by different crackerjacks
Brakes and clonks
Well, well, well!
Those frequent tonks.
How I loved those droning hums
Whinin' poppin' or screechin' ones
The drumming and hissing
Well, well, well!
Those wet roads n' tyres slipping.
How I longed to be awake
For me, there was no escape
Now back with all my might
Well, well, well!
Tales of travels we'll write.
#?? #?? #?? #?? #?? #??
Note: National Highway in India remained blocked for more than a year due to farmer's protest against some laws??
#FarmersProtest
#nationalhighway
#poorcommutors
#poetrylove
#AABCB
#onomatopoeia
#personifyingNH9
CLIPPED NOT CUT
bed of nails
clipped not cut
lie scattered
brittle rough
dumfounded words
scrawled slam shut
desecrated lies
marginalized
hawk scoops down
fallflawed brain
grabbing claws
mental drain
an empty line
clipped not cut
and dry
© Kim van Breda—2 December 2015
They think it “cute”
when I do my perched two step
not so much when I repeat
words I wasn’t meant to hear.
They took the mirror out
“It confuses him”, they said
“He thinks it’s another bird”
Not so!! When I pecked
its vacant eyes
it didn’t flinch, or fly.
I plot my escape!
I’ve heard them speak
of one who made it
through an open door
into the trees.
I dream, of unclipped wings
of sunshine and wind
of flight and foreign feathers.
I loathe the millet stick rewards
for inane, un-bird like behavior
and wonder why
would any “Caged bird sing.”*
©10/18/2019
Writing Challenge, October, 2019 – Bird-
Sponsor, Dear Heart – Wiishkobi Ode
Of angelic visitation
Kingdom turned to nation
Focus on flesh
(Like David Koresh)
Focus on wings
(Whilst scorpion stings)
From humility to pride
In reverse they all ride
A focus on the now and here
With condemnation and with fear
Rather Kingdom we should seek
Being humble, being meek
Than angels flying ‘round
Keeping us on shaky ground
Rather seek the righteousness
That came to love
That came to bless
Nothing more required, really
For his Love loves us dearly
Today I was visited by an angel with clipped wings.
I heard her settle next to me as I knelt and prayed
hungry for lofty things.
When I finished I raised my eyes
to face her questioning gaze.
Why? She asked, when you have been given all you need?
I longed to share my hurts and aches
and how the passing of time did not heal
but the words that would not come
they fell back down the empty well.
She gently raised my face to the sky,
there I saw endless stars
where one day I would spend eternity.
It was then she began to cry
her tears of holy water,
and though they landed close to me
I was denied their healing touch.
My time for grace and forgiveness
was yet to be.
I don’t know where resilience comes from
But it seems to be in short supply -
There was a time when “true grit” meant something
But for too many that idea died.
Complaining and playing the blame game
Seems to be the new status quo -
“It’s not my fault my life’s a mess,
It’s his or her fault you know!”
Or its just dumb luck and I lost out
On every opportunity -
Poor, poor, pitiful me,
Blame it all on my community.
Or better yet it's those on the left
I mean really, the “Extreme” far right -
Yes, there to blame for screwing my game
Along with my entire life.
Don’t you see what they’ve done to me
Those evil political goons?
They’ve strapped a suicide vest on me
Blowing my dreams up into sky blue.
They told me I could win every time
I competed or took a math test -
“Everyone deserves to win because
Everyone is trying their best.”
You know little Johnny got a ribbon
And I should get one too,
It's just not fair he’s better than me
Boo-who, boo-who, boo-who!
So, it’s not my fault I’m lost in life
And can’t even find my bearings -
It’s not my fault I’m so depressed
I lash out and resort to swearing.
At all of you and this whole world too
Filled with nothing but misery and pain -
With a glass half empty instead of half full
And nothing to venture or gain.
I can’t help it if I can’t tie my shoes
Or go out and look for a job -
I tried that one time
And nearly got robbed.
Because the game is rigged against me
And has been from the start -
Every time I try to excel
I get palpitations in my heart.
Therefore, I’ll just go out and complain today
About how I hate winter and spring -
Because birds and bees will soon return
But somebody clipped my wings.
© Terrell Martin, 03/13/2025
The tears hide the pain
But it never goes away
The pain, you see
Is just a part of me
How can I find a light?
When blindfolded and chained to the floor
It's as in a dream, true in a way
But never the same
Been through heaven, but only after going through hell
I try... I only try to fly
When shackled to the ground
I beg of you, release me
Free me from my guilt and sorrow
It's only a word I wish to borrow
" ...Go! "
I can forgive, but never forget
How you chose to display my clipped wings