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falcon feather by johnson, steve
FALCON by Lee Sr., James Edward
Falcon by nnoli, richard
Federigo's Falcon by Coy, Michael
Peregrine Falcon by McGreavy, Maureen
Falcon by ampinos, aiza
The Flight of my Falcon by Hagy, Chris
Falcon and Squirrel by Jordan, Richard
The Inpatient Falcon by Crisafulli, Anthony
Falcon rollers by TRAVIS, ANDREA

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The Best Falcon Poems

Details | Falcon Poem | Create an image from this poem.

ONE FALCON FEATHER


Pain had damaged her wings
in her seemingly endless struggles
beating them against the valley walls,
then, in the last days she made haste 
and climbed to the mountain’s summit
and flew free.

At first I could not see
that the sun and the moon 
were shining on that verdant floor
where she lay still 
till her soul opened its wings and ascended to live 
far above the clouds.

That bird of her soul encompassed the earth
casting no shadows
in all the six directions, and as I watched her ascent
one falcon feather like a sycamore seed
spiralled down and became entangled 
in my hair.


Copyright © Thomas McFerran | Year Posted 2013


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Eagle and the Dove


Gather around the sacred fire, my children
Let the embers' glow spark your curiosity
as we begin on this journey together;
to the time of how things once were,
to the time of how things came to be
In the beginning,
there was no war, only peace
There was no hate, only love
Harmony existed between all things,
it was the age when the eagle flew alongside the dove
Now the eagle lived high in the cliff of a great mountain,
and the dove lived in the lush valley below
And the seasons continued unabated,
from the summer's heat to the winter's snow
Then one day as the eagle sat, perched high atop his domain,
an evil thought entered his heart,
that only he alone over everything should reign
He felt because he was the most powerful bird,
his voice should always have the final word
So he gathered the other birds together,
to have them agree to make him their chief
The falcon and the hawk said they liked the idea
The raven and the owl said lets not be so hasty
The debate went on for days,
and the eagle grew restless with each passing hour
Until the stork delivered him a message,
during one spring early morning shower
The message said that the dove and the swan,
never came to a meeting, no not once
Thus, the eagle flew down to the edge of the pond,
and asked the swan about his absence
The swan said such matters concern him not,
let he who rule, let him rule just
As for the whereabouts of the dove, the swan said
he was in a cove by the big tree with the chestnuts
The eagle went and confronted the dove,
and accused him of stalling his coronation oblation
The dove replied with a gentle reproof,
saying to go down this wicked path will divide the earth into two nations
One will love war, and the other will love peace
One will hate killing, and the other will hate mercy
One will love freedom, and the other will love slavery
One will hate healing the pain, the other will hate causing hurt and misery
The eagle got angry at what the dove had to say,
and they no longer flew together after that day
So now you know, children, the story of the eagle and the dove
Which will you choose?
Will you choose to love hate,
or choose to live the peaceful way
Will you choose to hate love,
or choose to possess the spirit of a dove


Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2016


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Jonah Falcon He's Not

At the computer sits Dickie McDuff
Searching a password that isn't too tough
    With a cocky demeanor
    He types in 'mywiener'
And the computer says "Not long enough!"


Copyright © Roy Jerden | Year Posted 2014


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Belva Berry 1889-1905

Belva Berry

1889 - 1905         


I truly never asked to be born.
I truly never wanted any of this.
But what choice did I have?
What choice does any one of us have?
With our first breath
We begin our long slow descent into the darkness.
With our last breath
We end this long steady slide 
From nothing to nothing
From dust to dust.
I was the girl who lived in the corner house
Over on Newlin and Broadway streets.
I was the shy freckled daughter
Of Lunetta and James Berry.
And I was the unknown silent witness
To the crushing tragic tumble
Of my secret esoteric friend, Elvin.
Elvin Allen.
Elvin and me walked hand in hand
To the eastern hills that day.
Elvin and me stared into each other’s eyes and smiled that day.
And Elvin and me dared to dance on the sweet oily dirt that day.
There in the midst of the black fields,
The land of the black oil machines
That rise high like chess pieces
The Bishops of industry and money!
We kissed that day
And it was our first kiss.
And then, he climbed up the ladder there.
I saw him fall,
Fall like a falcon from the heavens.
And I knew he was gone.
Please forgive me God for running away.
Please forgive me God for never telling anyone
Of the first kiss, our kiss,
That long ago day in the black fields
In the eastern hills
Of this Quaker town.                    


Copyright © stark hunter | Year Posted 2015


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Tension Waiting

The swordsman who draws his blade
Heart racing at the keening of steel on scabbard 
Tension coiled, poised for the unleashing
Held back by muscles tight with glee.

I am as the soldier, held in stance,
The lioness crouched beneath the concealing grass
As it sways back and forth, as insects sing along the day
Her every breath is halted, her veins do not pulse,
And just as the swordsman stands
They are statues in this moment,
Statues of derision,
Mocking, with their stillness, the very charged tension within.

And I am as the lioness frozen before her pounce
Coiled with motivation and purpose,
And I am as the tongue held with words clinging off its’ edge
Ready to lash out and strike with direction
But I am as the frozen purpose, held tight
Waiting, for a warrior to stand before me
For a reason to uncoil, to lash out with words and pounce.

But I am now as the pen halting before the purest of paper
White and supple, in askance for the lightest touch
A slash of the tip, drawing lines in ink
Lines like a hunter’s bowstring, taut with intent,

As the pen lies frozen above its prey, the falcon petrified aloft still winds
I am the need coiled tight like a wound jack in the box
But alas, there is no victim to frighten,
No pray to pounce upon, no sword or bared neck to slash against
And I am here, with pen frozen, ink ready to be drawn taut
And I have nothing to draw in the ink, no prey or purpose to evoke
I am coiled tight with energy, but it is release that so eludes me,
I am coiled tight with purpose, but it is direction that so denies me.

And here I am, pouncing at ground before me, 
Slicing away at the air around me
Scratching away with a dry pen, on paper still white in askance
I write about…
I write about the coil within, and the lack without
And alone I wonder,
Is it enough, is it enough to go on, a wound up box
Waiting for the slightest touch, the weakest parry, to live.


Copyright © Samir Georges | Year Posted 2011


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Breathe In Me Life, For Death Enshrouds

“Seducer, healer, deity or thief,
I will see you soon enough—
in the shadow of the rainfall,
in the brief violet darkening a sunset—
but until then I pray watch over him
as a mountain guards its covert ore
and the harsh falcon its flightless young.”
-Dana Gioia’s Prayer

Captivated, cruelly scorned Innocence breached in the caress of sifting leaves I breathe… Shards of crimson ice splitting the skies, I breathe… Hung in the nest of my Guardian’s threshold I breathe… I receive the tantrums of travesty, Though I pause, the air suspended in my lungs Death, damasked and naked The hairs of his youth dancing in the breeze I breathe…I breathe… Words of ire, phantom echoes in my mind, I breathe…I breathe The pain of existing taught in those eyes I breathe…I breathe Until the fighting for control ceases Until the lungs are filled to the brim with torrential tears My eyes, open, lifeless I see you, gallant Guardian A silhouette sobbing, a heart pounding and throbbing You sing to me, lulling life wonder Spices surround me, for you are my Gatherer of needed scent Allowing your tears to fall, refusing to grieve Seeing in me budding revelation Your lips hot against mine Gently, gently you breathe And in Death’s astonished brow, I live


Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015


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Lord We Go On To Mars

mars
stretch out 
your
red falcon wings
we feel
your 
black
your eyes
your feathers
are
orange flames,
that
soar
through
pink salmon sky
in ships 
that 
we crafted
oh lord 
we go on to mars


Copyright © Gregory Golden | Year Posted 2009


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ode to fear

Part I

Fear, I know you. 

You are my secret	
wound. You are a 
putrescent, honey droplet.
You are a back-hand, 
hand mirror.

Your name sounds like
all, I have failed to love,
and all, I have failed
to fight for.

You are neither 
being, nor doing, 
but a never, 
ending, undoing.

You are a hand, 
a foot, a wide-opened 
mouth, voiceless. You 
are a broken branch. 

You are a serpent 
planted in the fields.
You are a still-born
wind, born at the 
bottom of the 
river.

Fear, why are you
here?

 Part II

Fear, don’t you know, 
I can see you? 
I have seen you
all my life. 

I see, in my,
mind, you, watching
me like a shadow
in the shadows,
standing naked

save that red-parrot, 
feathered hat, old 
walking, stick, raged 
hunting dog, and 
white falcon. 

I see an old
tree bent in the 
shade, with knotted
branches for arms, 

toenails deep like
roots, and fire-blue, 
indigo eyes
molded from time
itself. 

I see your grip
on that bird-shaped, 
handled, walking 
stick, carved from a 

stolen Yggdrasil 
branch, and the veins
that, like worms, roam
the back of your 
hands.
 
You ancient, 
standing tree, I 
see you pointing 
that stick at me 
for your hound to

track, so, that your 
falcon can mount
my shoulders and 
whisper your words.

Part III

Fear, there is no
room for you on
my shoulders, 
today.

I do not want
your counsel for 
you whisper it,
not like others,
 
by the ear, but 
from within deep, 
down like a 
fallen stone. 

In the past, you've
turned my sword into 
a dropping hand,
and my fingers 
into canaries.

You left stones in
my mouth, and where
my heart once sat 
now stalks a dark, 
night-foot. 

So, falcon, take
these grapes, carry
them back to your
master and be
on your way. They
are ripe and plump 
with ash and dust.

Please take them and
go, or I shall slay you 
complete and drag
you back to that
untouched corner 
of creation.

Where 
there is nothing
but fear; 
fear feeding fear; 
fear all around.

Then, I will wash
my weapons in
the sea and be
on my way.

Fear! There is no 
room for you on 
my shoulders, today!


Copyright © Pio Jasso | Year Posted 2017


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Peregrine Falcon

Watching you atop your tower
for once
wishing not to be you
but to be the dove
on which you prey
to so honourably 
have you take my pain away
I turned
to set this thought to paper
when I looked back
you were gone
and I sank
so sad
to still be there.


Copyright © Maureen McGreavy | Year Posted 2017


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A Rose

A red rose whispers of enchantment And the white rose reveals the depth of love O, the red rose is like that of a falcon, And the white rose is symbolic of the dove. But I send you a cream-white rosebud With a flush on its petal tips; For our love that is purest and sweetest Has a kiss of desire on our lips.


Copyright © Rollo West | Year Posted 2012


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Hawk's Eyes

in the bright light of day you appeared...
a gilded angel with falcon wings,
you rose up out of the desert sands 
and your gentle beauty struck me dumb - 
sending a tremor through my soul...

marvelling, pretending an air of studied uncaring 
i watched you through a veil of wind-blown hair 
and tried to ignore the yearning sighs of the 
blood in my veins, 
and the keening of a heart that was broken - 
that, seeing you, healed briefly - 
only to fracture again every time you turned away

you were fatal...
i knew this in my marrow, even as i stared, 
riveted, at your cherub's innocence, 
suffocating, slowly - sweetly - 
in the decadent gold-striated hazel of your 
hawk's eyes
you were a killing blow out of the blue, 
and once again i was lost...

"angel" i wanted to cry, "angel, ask my name..."
but, naive as Adam, you lost yourself in the bustle 
and sand-blasted clamor of your clawed companions...
bereft i hovered, a lonely kestrel riding the chill wind 
of your ignorance...
a single tear slid down my cheek; 
oh i would have impaled myself on a thousand spears, 
if it would only make you run to my side 
and scoop me into your bronze embrace

but time slid by and planets shifted - 
the day's end drew near...
desert dunes dissolved into the hazy purple of night,
and i was forced to say goodbye; 
to pretend love at first sight was just a giddy adolescent joke, 
and that your image wasn't tattooed on my heart 
in blood and fire...
only then, as my soul swelled with the bitter bile of 
disappointment, did you turn and behold 
the torment of your beauty written on my face...

boyish, innocent, your eyes clashed with mine - 
and melted my core to lava - 
and gave my battered heart wings; 
clipped wings perhaps, but wings nonetheless...
you smiled, a saccharine-coated admission of acknowledgement, 
even as your eyes stabbed cruelly, violated my bruised soul, 
and the sun set at your back - 
gilding you in demonic flame...
and in a blazing flash, that was it, the die was cast, 
reeling, bleeding, i broke our searing gaze;
'angel you may be, my oblivious love,'
i thought as i walked away 
'but devil you are for wounding me this way - 
and never even knowing my name'


Copyright © Amy Van de Casteele | Year Posted 2009


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Placid Waters

.
                                                 Flying on wings of a falcon
                                      Across the snow capped mountain range
                                               Cobalt blue skies only beacon
                                              Human eye enjoys interchange
                                               Placid waters spirit centered
                                            Marvelous scenery heart adored

Inspired by:
John Freeman' contest
"A Nature Verse"
Entry
Click on 
"About This Poem"


Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2011


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Bridging Heaven and Earth

Fueled by atmospheric ecstasy
Into ethereal regions' mystery,
  Tilting wings cavalierly,
  Bridging Heaven and Earth,
  Gliding gracefully.

Falcon, sky-hawk, hoopoe, finch
Starling, sparrow, blue-jay, Grinch;
  What matter the appellation?
  The feeling's the same---
  Incessant ceaseless sensation

Jealous we gaze, stricken with admiration
At creatures without borders, without nations:
  Would that we could bask in their bounty
  Would that we could sip from their stations.



Copyright © Gershon Wolf | Year Posted 2018


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The Overseer




                                        peregrine falcon

                                    scout upon the citadel

                                    pigeons kept in check







***


Copyright © Maureen McGreavy | Year Posted 2018


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Winging it

tumbling falcon
holding the tuck position
one feathered blowout

John G. Lawless
©7/29/2018


Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2018


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- WHEN STATURE IS A FORM OF GRACE - 6


WHEN STATURE IS A FORM OF GRACE

Red hair,
skin sweet apple, 
Her face  like a geisha
quiet yet armed with falcon eyes
You'll see.

His nose:
sharp  like a knife.
Alone, she has no friend,
was this the way she's meant to be
shadowed?

Lonely
with hurt anew
she sighs deep like furnace
with only a dolesome ballad
to sing.
 
For she
was different, 
demure in every way,
stature becomes a form of grace
within.

She chafe
folks that bore her,
their slanderous tongues.
Have they no grace nor some respect
to care?

Actions
where life pulsates
demands each to play roles
yet still, when silence roars, hear
echoes.

Truth ~ lies
all mixed in one,
baffling the people,
leading the narrow minds astray,
wonky!
__________________________________________________
Inspired by: Theater by Mary Cassatte 1879


__Olive Eloisa D. Guillermo__
4:26 pm, January 19, 2015


Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2016


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Ode to my Father

Alms Inn, there is the place again, and here
I, far away, muse in the house I grew
O this village of my love, has grown too
The golden hills with lilacs filled, the sweet
Soft of morning dew, and my dusty feet
Leaving his brighter sun for school and care
Whilst he with poetic dreams filled the air
And orange blossoms buzz with fragrance fair
And O, orange blossoms buzz when
In my mind I hear his voice again.

Father, fragile though festive fold of hills
Where drought walks dissonant on dribbled dreams
Your memory abides here still, and bright streams
Of laughter where you paced or sat unveiling
History and poetry and farmed feeling
Of the world. Like a nightingale's voice spills
Through the village gate, sublime as sacred thrills
The organ dissipates, and crannies fills
With thy deep eloquence and pride
And thy wide eyed child by your side.

Regal of an African line, birth low
Amidst the Maroon bramble, up you came
Out of the German mire of blood, a flame
Carrying bushman and midwife through night
The falcon feathered for the frolic of flight
Over foreign spires, in the bright rainbow
Father, still your footsteps that path does show
Mud deep, bright towards the future we go
Athlete, scholar, tempest and mist
Man above men will foes insist

And I today churn in praise my new lines
Waking like a womb of fresh beginnings
A virgin voyage of my form, deep gleanings
Of the mind's creativity. I bring
It, tribute to you, blush before my king
For whose awesome form my love matchless pines
Seeking your worth in joys of new designs
To carve your honor on our human minds
First of our black place to unfold
Upon white space petals of gold.

This proud veterinarian, this wave
That pulse across the Caribbean's shores
This first in rank in all the shackled chores
This noble patron of the arts, this child
Of business, that upward through nights here toiled
To say I am free, stir now gloomy grave
You shall not hold him forever a slave
When jubilee comes, and our God shall save
For of all the joys that is known
He loved his God, and grace was shown

Time and us are leashed memories
With time I tell love's true stories
And so its oft, when love in fancy strays
I to Alms Inn, where my boyhood still plays
In St. Elizabeth, behind the brimmed drays
Here in white pattern of dust I reclaim
The glory of my father, all my name
For we are nothing who have no past, sir
No identity the shard soul to stir
Shorn from the traditions of father's ways.


Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2010


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Chastity belt bespoke fitter

i am a ye olde chastity belt maker and fitter
Fitting is free
I love my occupation
As I hold the key
For an emergency

Their men want them fitting
While they are away at war
And my services are required
More and more
Something I adore.

The women beg me to set them free
And I give them what they need
For a fee.

So need a chastity belt? 
Don't buy a cheap imitation from Hong Kong.
They have sharp edges and not that strong.

Just send me a E- arrow
And I'll be there quicker than a falcon after a sparrow.

This weeks special offer hurry!
Buy two get one free
I aim to please
If I still have the energy.

I'm very popular you  know
So come on wenches and ye olde maidens
Give me a go How else you gonna know?.






Peter Dome. copyright.2014. July.



Copyright © Peter Dome | Year Posted 2014


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A Peregrine Falcon

A peregrine falcon masters the sky its wings majestically arched with flair soaring with the elements eye to eye. In a flurry of speed it flashes by serenely aloof untethered and rare a peregrine falcon masters the sky. Sunlight gilds feathers as soft as a sigh and flickering flecks ignite in the air soaring with the elements eye to eye. Naturally nimble graceful and spry inspiring both audacity and dare a peregrine falcon masters the sky. Riding an invisible thermal high it lifts me up till suddenly I’m there soaring with the elements eye to eye. Like poetry in motion wingtips fly and awed by its beauty I can but stare. Soaring with the elements eye to eye a peregrine falcon masters the sky. (A “villanelle” poem.)


Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015


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Canto XXII Hell translation part 2

(continued previous part 1)

The duke then: “Tell now: of others indeed
Some Latin among sinners do you know 
Behind pitch?”. And he “I  had to secede,

It’s not much, from one who near had to stow.
I wish I were with him so covered still,
Since fear no hook nor claw I would not owe!”.

And Libicocco “Too much we stopped our will”,
Told; and grappled his limb with the hook,
So that, by tearing, had a piece of meat fill.

Draghignazzo too now his fork then took
To catch his legs, so that the chief of their
Turned his head around with malicious look.

When those became a little less unfair,
To him, who was still looking at his wound,
My duke then asked in a very short wear:

“Who is the one from whom you left unsound,
As you have told us, to come up afloat?”
And he told: “Friar Gomita was bound,

The one from Gallura, of all frauds moat,
Who had enemies of his lord at hand,
And acted so, that they had good to note.

Money he kept, and left them to disband,
As was told, and in other duties too
Barterer was not small, but of great brand.

With him Don Michael Zanche had same to do
At Logodoro; and Sardinians say
That their tongues are not tired for gossip true.

Alas, you see who teeth gnashes in bad way;
I would continue, but I fear that he
Is going to scratch my head right away”.

And the main chief, to Farfarello with esprit
While was goggling his eyes ready to hit,
Told: “Move out of here bad bird inductee!”

“If you want to see or hear to admit”,
Started again the out of fear now then,
“Tuscans or Lombard, I call the nominee;

But Malebranche must stop hooking when
They are coming on, so they have no fear;
And I, sitting now in this site again,

In place of me one, seven will be here
When I will whistle, as always we use
To do whenever one out has to appear”.

Cagnazzo at these words his muzzle skews
His head waging, telling: “malice you see
He thought to escape and so safe ensues!”.

So he, who of foxiness full could be,
Answered; “Malicious I am now too much,
Since to my mates is more gloom from me”.

Alichin could not restrain himself and such
As others, told him: “If you self-drop down,
I will not get back at gallop to touch,
  
But I will flatter over the pitch around.
Leave his neck free, and let be screen the bank,
To show if more than us you deserve renown”.

Oh reader, you shall hear a new play rank:
Each one his eyes turned to the other coast,
First the one, who to do that was more swank.

The Navarrian caught his time at most;
Firmly put his feet on ground and then fast
Jumped away from them so was freed with swamp.

Of this each one by fault was just harassed,
But the one who the error caused was more;
Thus he moved on and shouted: “You are passed!”.

But little could do: since wings to soul sore
Could not go forward, he dived below then
And that soaring straightened up his breast fore:

Not different the duck rapid does when
The falcon approaches, it down dives,
And other vexed and tired returns again.

Calcabrina for the mockery strives,
Flying back him he went, attracted by
The occasion of fighting if he lives;

And as the barterer submerged thereby,
So he then turned the claws against his mate
And became with him so tethered and wry.

But the other was rapacious hawk great
In clawing him so well, and both just so
Fell down in middle boiling pitch well straight.

The hot fighter tried to get up and go;
But by no means he could now perform this,
Because his wings were got involved and slow.

Barbariccia, with mates sorry to miss,
Four of them sent then to the other coast
With all the hooks, and instantly assists.

From here, from there they went down just post;
Their hooks toward the pitched now extended
Who were within that mud just almost roast.

And we left them so clumsy way contended.


Copyright © Mario DE PAZ | Year Posted 2014


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Canto XVII Hell translation

“Here the fierce with the thin pointed tail,
Who passes mountains and breaks arms and walls!
Here who with stench can the world assail!”

So my duke started to talk with his calls;
And hinted then it to get the bank close,
Nearby to end of marbles and of falls.

And then that filthy image which fraud sows
Came close, and  just arrived with head and chest
But on the shore its tail it did not pose.

Its face was of the honest man at best,
So much benignant had its outer skin,
And of a snake was all its body next;

Two hairy gills it had to armpits twin;
Its spine and chest as well as ribs both too
With knots and wheels had like painted had been.

Vivid colors much overlapping do 
Neither Tartars nor Turks drapes never made 
No such canvas ever Arachne drew.

Likewise sometimes barges nearby shore stayed
In part in water and in part on ground,
And likewise there within the Germans strayed

The beaver prepares its war and to hound,
So the bad and evil fierce remained there
On stony rim of sandy soil around.

Its tail was flickering in void to scare,
Up twisting its fork poisonous indeed
Which armed tip like a scorpion unfair.

My duke told: “To modify now we need
Our pathway until we finally reach 
That evil fierce which there lies, careful heed”.

For this we down got toward the right beach,
Ten steps we did then on the limit rim,
The flames and too the hot sand to breach.

And when at end we arrived close to him
A little farther I see just on sand
People sitting near the site with no vim. 

Here the master “Now you have at hand
The truth about this circle in full just”,
He told , “go and their fate then understand.

Your reasoning way down there short be must,
Meanwhile you come back, I will speak with this,
So he will offer us his limbs robust”

So again up to the top of abyss
In that seventh circle now alone
I went, where sad people sitting exists.

Through their eyes the internal pain was shown;
Here, there defended themselves with hands
Now to steam, and now to hot soil of stone:

Not different are dogs in summer stands
Now with mug or with paw, when are bitten
Or by fleas  or by flies  or horseflies bands.

After I put  on some my eyes  smitten,
On whom the painful fire to fall saw,
No one I knew; but I saw as written

A pocket hanging from the neks to draw
With blazons and colors and well clear sign,
Of which they looked to be proud with no awe.

And as looking at them I joined their line,
In yellow bag I saw a sky-blue tint
Which of lion had face and clear design.

Then going to follow of sight the hint,
I saw another which was as blood red
With a goose that whiter exist didn’t.

And one who of a light blue sow well fed
Had his white bag clearly painted just so,
Told me: “How did you come in this ditch shed?

Now you can leave; and since you alive go,
Learn that my near Vitaliano still
Will seat then here at my left below.

These from Florence, I from Paduan mill;
So many times my ears are stunned nearby
From shouting: “Should come the sovereign will,

Who will carry his bag with three necks by!
Then he twisted his mouth and extracted
His tongue, as ox which nose to lick may try.

And since my stay could not be protracted
To shun master's regret asking be fast
I came  back to souls badly impacted.

I found my duke who already had passed
Sitting onto the croup of the fierce beast,
And told me: “Now be strong and bold not last.

Now we have to descend such stairs so pieced;
Come up ahead, at middle I must be
So that for you the tail’s danger is least”

Similar to one whose disgust is close to see
The quartan fever, with nails just pale,
And looks back  trembling at high degree,

So I became when heard the words assail;
But I was ashamed by his threats to me.
That a good lord makes right  his servant fail.

I found my place on that back hard to see;
So I tried to tell, but no voice I had
As I thought and desired: “Let embrace thee”

But he, who times before to help was glad
Maybe for other, when I was there sat
With both his arms gripped and sustained me sad;

And told: “Geryon, you should move now at;
Be the circles wide, and the slope down short;
You must be careful with such weight as that”

Like a small ship leaves off its  place in port
Backwards and backwards, so started then it;
And when he felt to be free to transport,

Where the chest was, he put his tail to fit,
And after stretching, it moved like an eel,
And with gills, inflated air to admit.

More fright I don’t believe would deal
When Phaeton unrestrained became then,
So that sky, as still seen, was burnt to seal;

Nor had Icarus with his sorry  loins when
Losing feathers perceived for the wax hot,
His father screaming to him “Bad way amen!”,

The fright I had, when I saw where I got 
Everywhere in air, and turned off  I saw
Any scenery out of the fierce spot.

It goes away swimming slow, with no flaw;
Rotates, descends, but I am not aware
Except for the wind which comes from yaw.

I felt just on right hand the eddy mare
Doing an indeed scaring roar below,
So that with eyes my head to jut I dare.

Then I became more bashful to that flow,
Since I saw fires and heard tears of pain;
And trembling all I snuggled in me so.

Then saw, since view on I could not attain,
Descent and turning those great pains around
Which came close from various parts again.

Like falcon whose wings long flied up from ground,
Without sight lure or any bird at all
Pushes the fa lconer to tell “Stop hound!”,

Descends tired while it moved easy and tall,
With hundred rounds, and then volplanes quite far
From its trainer, with disdain and fierce gall;

So Geryon put us on rocks which are
At foot at foot of the profound barrow
And, after discharged the persons of our,

It sudden vanished like from bow the arrow.


Copyright © Mario DE PAZ | Year Posted 2014


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Star Wars Rebellion haiku stream

Star Wars Rebellion:
A galactic game of Risk—
Empire/Alliance.

Alliance Leaders:
Luke Skywalker, Han Solo,
Leia, Mon Mothma.

Young Luke Skywalker
Has to confront Darth Vader,
Becomes Jedi Knight.

Han Solo pilots
The Millenium Falcon
With friend Chewbaca.

Leia Organa:
Very strong diplomat,
Potential Jedi.

President Mothma:
The rebellion’s heart and soul,
Great at recruiting.

Rebel advantage:
They are able to move their
Secret Headquarters.

Imperial Leaders:
The Emperor Palpatine,
Dark Lord Darth Vader.

Evil Palpatine,
A.K.A. Darth Sidius,
Dark Lord of the Sith.

Apprentice Vader
Was Annakin skywalker,
Seduced by dark side.

Control production,
Build mines and refineries,
Fight for resources.

The construction yards
Are used to build everything.
Must be defended!

To create armies,
Need training facilities.
Must be defended!

To build more starships,
Build or capture space stations.
Must be defended!

Special characters:
Assassins, Spies, Commandos,
And Infiltrators.

Planet resources
Gained by colonization,
Diplomacy, conquest.

To gain VICTORY:
Capture/destroy headquarters,
Capture the leaders.

Idealogies?
What’s the real goal of all wars?
Control resources!


Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2014


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MARK ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA-3

The Egyptian standard falls, unto histories surrendering, 
The deserts breath, is so stilled,  under the Nile river's
Murky abyss, busted masts, heave against the 
Heavily laden hauls,taring the ships apart,
As the Egyptian fleet sinks beneath the waters surface.
A shooting flame of arrows, lights this tender box,
Of human flesh and bone, in wars clash of titans,
Rome must concur all nations.
Survivors screaming for salvation’s protection,
But help will not come, for Horas is a 
Defeated deity, hiding within his own temple to
The east.
Broken is the heart of Egypt, as a daggers sharp edge,
Is plunged into the body of a living god, the last Pharaoh,
Known as Cleopatra.
Cradling misfortune's solider, Mark Anthony, she thus weeps,
Behold love's most tragic couple of history.
With his last breath, he calls unto she, by names sake
Alone, Cleopatra, than remains stilled.
Lord thy last falcon has left the golden land,
Welcome him, she thus bids farewell, to hearts warrior,
Cleopatra.
A mortal woman holds her lover, within destiny’s arms,
Soar with the great eagles, my love, for soon I'll join thee,
In the great halls of our ancestors.
Tragedies star crossed lovers, partake in the bitterest
Of fruit, dried are these figs, once ripened by the sun,
Now unpalatable by discord’s taste.
Nay, all the power and wealth of Egypt itself,
Could sever, the silver threads joining these two,
From one another.
Lovers heart, bound even after death itself,
Shall they walk forever, within the valley of
The dead together, silhouetted figures, embracing
Reunification’s promise vows expressed long ago,
Written within their hearts eternal.
Lain in a golden gown, the queen of the Nile
Does she rest, beneath death's slumbering shadow, 
A serpents bite, has laid waste to a dynasty’s blood line.
Behold how in the heaven two eagles do soar,
Blanketed by the golden warmth of the sun,
As the passages of the hear after open wide
Their mighty gates, each name is spoken with
Honor pride, behold Mark Anthony and Cleopatra.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN 











Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014


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I Wish I Was A Bird

I wish I was a bird. 
  I could see the world,  fly high above the mountains and the trees and the ocean and the seas.
  I wish I was a bird.
 Just sail the breeze with my wings so wide gliding to the earth with no worries on my mind.
  I wish I was a bird. Please take me out of the cage, let me fly and be free, to be me! not to be molded into you.
I wish I was a bird. 
You can hold me, but please be careful I am fragile and scare easily and fly away before I should.
 I wish I was a bird.
I am tired of being fragile and little,  over the years I have become wise like an owl quick like the Falcon and strong like an eagle, Now try to put me in that cage!.
I wish was a bird.
To be colorful and have everyone hear my voice as I sing beautiful songs I will overcome all the odds against me.
I wish I was a bird.


Written by Nathan Stanford



Copyright © Nathan Stanford | Year Posted 2014


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Morel Telos

Hidden, perched on high,
The Peregrine Falcon echolocates the
bird-in-flight warning song.
Only when intercept is optimal, takes flight.
Soaring over 100mph, wings and claws
cantilever for precise capture.

There is no app I follow, only the rhythms
of nature my Father passed down to me-

"listen to the wind"
"harvest the gifts of the seasons"

Wild Tansyleaf Aster carpets this river bottom
forest. Stepping around deep imprints left by
a heavy Buck, the symphony of migrating
Warblers sweeps through my wooded wind.

Brambles I avoid, Deer Ticks I hope to discover!
and mud sink-holes I traverse; as I approach
the unmistakeable glint of the Giant Golden Morel!



04/18/15
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Copyright © James Marshall Goff | Year Posted 2015