Best Grackles Poems
I am monster
the Osiris of lost souls
lurking in the moonlit shadows
I am Frankenstein unbound
among hungry crows and grackles
I creep over the scared ground
of good and evil...
Where lies my monster bride?
I am kneeling and wailing
for her to complete and release me
from these shackles and chains
of this hellish Gothic pain and sorrow
to offer me absolution
from the atrocities of the flesh I have committed...
I am the fiendish brute
who grows fangs and hair
when the almanac forecasts a full moon
and the sky is crying meteor showers
among random bolts of lightning
I howl and shriek in terror
I am mortal seeking to become immortal
gazing in the mirror I behold a monster...
Much like Frankenstein
If I can't be beautiful I wish to be invisible
I can only be saved
by the love of a beautiful woman
I burn to be inside of her
to find her by a sun baked moonstone
to save me from this cursed life
that I have lived from alpha to omega...
I am Adam reanimated seeking Eve
fleeing inescapable horror as if it were life itself
longing to avoid being impaled by the wooden stake of loneliness
I fear I am becoming a fallen angel
living in the night of the dark soul
my pendulum swings towards you my cherubim lover
for I have love in me like none has ever seen...
My love remember this
when I find you and see you
I will come after you like a hurricane
and even though I am among the undead
I will not stop loving you
until at last the earth quakes
and mountains rise from the sea
shaking the very ground you walk on..
~ ~ ~
The American eagles left their warm nests
before snow fell on the evergreen pines and spruces,
so did the ravens, grackles and petrels...
hidden among the white mountains, the river still flows.
So peaceful, so cold is this winter afternoon,
no other sound but the waters babbling on rocks,
flowing into the wide valley below without a tune...
two months ago, the placid lake swarmed with ducks.
Footprints are visible into the frozen snow that no one loves...
who would venture in this life-threatening wilderness?
Could it be a grizzling gone astray, or searching for his cubs?
Leave it to the imagination, or simply take a guess!
So peaceful, so cold is this winter afternoon,
and the more I look, the less I think of danger...
I would love to get out and discover it like the slow-moving raccoon
seeking food until he shivers and decides to turn back with anger.
It started with the usual
crows, grackles, starlings,
even the chickadees
were appropriately capped.
Broken up a bit by
a red winged blackbird
and again by cardinal.
But in the woods,
early Mourning Cloaks flitted
while a turkey vulture
circled overhead.
Our black dog plunged
into the ice free pond
but the tawny only dabbled,
then both soaked
the bottom of my jeans.
On a nearby clothesline
a little black dress flapped,
as winter’s hair was shorn
from newly silky legs.
'News' may simply be
an acronym,
North, East, West, South,
Space-time continuum
Headlines capture minds—
Imagine the water cooler buzz
if the front-page news was:
"A Plague of Grackles!"
"A Murder of Crows!"
"A Conspiracy of Ravens"
"A Parliament of Owls"
Bird's-eye views of
All that's news!
Grackles on landmarks,
no severe cold from the North...
no need to migrate.
.
Birds
~~~~
Grackles and Finches
After years they have returned
Guess I should be glad.
A flood of grackles,
black-leafing the tree
who seem to’ve forgot
that its not
Winter;
it’s Spring and everything
is about to flower.
Eva says they are starling
and they may be.
She says they crowd the uncrowded
barebranch trees and blot out
the sun and blot out the Spring’s sounds.
The nattering and chirp-chattering
is a great April chorus for us,
down here...in the frostbit grass.
The ear is rung like a town bell
as thoughts are misshapen and lost.
A woodpecker, somewhere
is into his or her daily
mind-numbing rat-a-tat-chattering;
Unburying dreams, dreams in the heartwood.
It’s the 16th day in a row.
Or seventh.
Or 38th.
(It was once that I could count.)
A neighbor’s rooster breaks the night,
breaks the dawn,
breaks the morning
wide open.
An earful all day (break)
The horses whinny in
their morning mare-compare-mare-ing
then find their way to their place
in their paddocks.
The air is abound with sound.
Three geese,
circle over.
From dawn’s waxen East
feathering past a flaxen South
gaggling to the black sun West
they klaxon forth to nourishing North.
and there is no hearing, now...
not even
a single starling
(If ever there were such a thing.)
Not now, not even -
a single peck of wood.
Not now, not -
a single cockle is doodled or done.
Not a single mare is heard from her herd.
and there is no hearing, now...
not even
a single grackle
(If ever there were such a thing.)
Atop some long ago rusted train trestle
now rests a forgotten broken clay vessel,
shattered where only ghosts of ancient freight trains run.
Such was the wish of one forsaken man among men;
to disperse his cremated remains there back when
he prepared to meet his demise with his own gun.
It was on a single October's crisp autumnal day;
One with every cloud in God's sky brushed away.
Countless grackles screeched through creaky, golden trees.
His loosened ashes flew everywhere, far and wide,
east and west, intent on crossing some great divide
to become an eternally freed spirit set adrift up on a breeze.
Form:
Just outside my window,
As I sip my morning tea,
The crossroads of the local bird world,
Rain or shine, is there to see.
It dangles from a shepherd’s crook,
A dear friend gifted me.
Squirrels climb up to have a look,
Then scamper off, seeds spraying loosely.
Cardinals, jays, chickadees and sparrows,
Flock there for my view.
So do flickers, grackles, finches and juncos,
Mourning doves and yes two ducks waddling by too!
It’s the only one in my neighborhood,
Though I wish others would.
It took so long to attract them,
With just the seeds that could.
They found the pricey pistachio feed quite grand,
Settling into a pampered rut,
And totally ignored the bargain brand,
What choosy beggars – we’ve settled on one with peanuts.
I wonder at the variety,
Even pigeons and gulls find this suburban yard,
And marvel at the lack of propriety,
From birds that get only seed, no lard.
They squabble with their own kind,
Yet like humans are patient with winged cousins.
It makes no sense to my mind,
But I’m glad for their cheery company by the dozens.
M. Renee Taylor
3-19-17
Birds seen flying together in large flocks tonight
Words of warning sounds emit as coos and cackles
Herds of cows start running toward the barn door light
Blurred together as a murder of black crows and grackles
Snow starts fiercely falling down from the clear night sky
Glow of red lights seen flashing onto the snow-white ground
Below the farm animals hide as songbirds scatter and fly
Hello, I hear as an alien creature appears outside and turns around
I see all this happening as I peer out through my window blind
Why is this alien creature here, it’s all surreal, like a bad nightmare?
Try to think clearly for my safety, as I may be in a dangerous bind
Spy carefully to see where the alien creature is, if it’s still out there
Unkind wind starts to pick up as the snow becomes a squall
Find my gun empty of bullets and my cell phone’s now dead
Mind racing with panic, is this real, or am I imagining this all?
Behind me I hear knocking on the door as I feel terror and dread
Crashing down quickly onto my kitchen floor as I try to hide
Flashing red lights go by brightly as they light up my room
Smashing my knee as I stumble when I hear a loud a crash outside
Dashing to the window now after hearing sirens and a loud boom
Then the police were at my door, asking me to come out
Men yelling in police and firemen uniforms putting out a fire
When I went out, they asked me what caused the burnt dugout
Again, fear gripped me, denying knowing as I began to perspire
Concealing seeing the alien from them I decided was best
Feeling exhausted later that night I decide go to bed
Reeling with anxiety and fear it was difficult to get rest
Screaming, when I saw the alien creature above my head!
Contest: Strand Select 11, Any form, any theme.
Sponsor: Brian Strand
The pigeons bob their heads and strut
And pause to do some pecking.
Their throaty conversations
Interfere not with their trekking.
A sudden startle sets them
With a flutter in the air.
Ten seconds later they alight,
Unbothered by the scare.
Their iridescent necks dig deep
Into their feathers, scratching,
Perhaps to loosen bugs which likely
Might have been attaching.
The sparrow and the grackles
Let the pigeons do their thing
And neither seem to notice
When the other group takes wing.
Although they’re nicknamed “rats with wings”
(An epithet quite mean),
The pigeons certainly belong
As part of New York’s scene.
After an age, I found myself in her presence,
Struck again by her simplicity, her very essence.
A mathematician, now on a spiritual path,
Her life, a testament to a transformative start.
A practical spender, a healthy eater,
An insightful shift, due to a loss so bitter.
We delved into topics, broad and intense,
From psychology of the mind to witty content.
Earnestly we discussed, the mind’s sneakiness,
And chuckled over our juvenile naiveness.
Our daily walks were through nature’s creative art,
Where wildflowers flourished, and birds played their part.
Emerald fields of blue, orange, pink and yellow blooms,
Where long-tailed grackles sang, dispelling all glooms.
Spotted cardinal couples, a sight vividly marvelous,
And blue jay, butterfly and fly catchers’ gliding pairs.
Serene azure of the lake would enhance our mood,
Where mallards drifted with their newly hatched brood.
She nourished me with a diet so hearty and pure,
Beans, boiled eggs, oatmeal and salads to ensure.
Effective stretches she imparted for sore legs,
They work miracles when paired with some ankle weights.
This visit, a soulful journey was an impactful quest,
In her simplicity, this time I experienced a tranquil rest.
In the depth of the night, a concerto commenced,
With drums of thunder and a melody of rain.
Wind flutes played loud sniveling notes,
Carrying pulsating tunes in blustery tones.
Streaks of lightening, with their baton of light,
Led the blasting orchestra with dynamic might.
Trees swayed wildly, leaves scattered with force,
Rain soaked the paths, shattering dense shadows.
As dawn tiptoed, with the sun’s gentle caress,
Melodic whistles, cheeps and croaks took the stage.
Blue bonnets danced, greeting butterflies and bees,
Jays and cardinals capered under the radiant trees.
Hummingbirds frolicked around the buds of paintbrush,
Grackles called out in an enthusiastic rush.
Scissor-tailed flycatchers hovered, tails unfurled,
Charmed their mates with their squeaks and chirrs.
Pinkladies and Firewheels in their spectacular array,
Welcomed the day, luring pollinators their way.
The storm disappeared, giving way to a tranquil zephyr,
Joyfulness prevailed, in awe of Mother Earth’s endeavor.
Grackles
I rambled along a city street
Going nowhere with no one to meet.
When I espied grackles in a tree,
Stretching and heckling between the leaves.
Purplish headed, black feathered beings.
Perched on the branches, stately and free.
Undaunted by my drawing nearer,
Their yellow eyes traced my demeanour.
And when I stopped to observe the plague,
While standing ‘neath the foliage shade,
They dropped to the ground and hopped around
Searching for bugs and seeds to swallow down.
Other birds in the vicinity
Colourfully dressed and singing brightly
Flitted about but could not drown out
The grackles’ cacophony here about.
Their corny antics invoked my senses
To marvel that such creatures existed.
And as I continue my dreary way,
In this world of bland human display,
I think of them enjoying summer
Filling my heart with spirited wonder.
And chuckle to myself by chance to see
Grackles basking in tall broadleaf trees.
The swollen lake had begun to settle again as the
brilliant sun seemed to dance between the clouds
I’d fondly remember the quiet calming warmth
beneath the trunks of big cypress trees morning
golfers could be seen in a distance overlooking
rows and rows of grassy hills as I sat sipping
hazelnut coffee with hints of coconut cream
the wide-open grandeur allowed giant egrets
to land on logs that housed the seasonal perched
wood storks who came every summer to nest
my soul followed the red masculine cardinal’s
who only peeked out to chase the grackles and
noisy bluejays away while the female cardinals
enjoyed fresh berries sharing sweet nectar with
hummingbirds as woodpeckers sends signals
down my spine banging on the only hollow tree
awakening the old owl by to the loop of cool darkened
forestry hiding from the daylight my mind comforted
in the faint notions of such beauty hidden deep within
the woods behind the sun along the river's edge while
yellow eyed alligators prowled searching for unsuspecting
prey to get a closer view of the pink flamingos seeking
solitude and seclusion to bathe and dry their wings sudden
soft breeze began to stir as hundreds of white herons
flew in from the Caribbean Sea hunting frogs
and hefty tadpoles that just arrived with a tangled
nest of garden snakes oh how the birds began
squawking chirping whistling noises filled every
corner of the lake while shadows of large wings
blocked the sun two hawks gliding about the very
top of the tall trees startling a mother eagle arriving
back just in time to her nest with breakfast for her
three awaiting chicks wouldn't you know a gang of
turkey vultures lay low hoping she drop a few eggs
to devour appetizers until the alligator leaves something
dead behind as I sit stirring my coffee I watch the sunrise
a little bit higher reaching the height of the day I suppose
and yet traces of darkness still blankets the forest in my
neck of the woods soothing sun glistening sky calming
the soft ripples on the lake oh look baby ducks are arriving
Written by Yolanda Nicholsen May 27th 2024