Best Kestrels Poems

You, Mariana—deepest trench of my knowing  
   I call you by name not to possess it
but because it is the only prayer  
   I have ever known how to say  

You are the sea—each wave not an argument...

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Somewhere beside the myrtle rose blooming white
By nutgrass overgrown, a palm tree sways in soft moonlight
Like an angel from the throne, and somewhere there
In your long forgotten bed sleep your bones alone
And though distant, for childhood I almost feel a tear
Benbow lies forgotten there, the...

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He speaks for the uprooted.
A man of sorts, a twiggy Buddha.
He who interprets 
the conferences of frogs, 
the unpublished works 
of kestrels and voles.

He’s an advocate for the underbelly
of a microbial heaven, for every kind
of uncouth animalcule.

He speaks for the bulldozed,
the displaced. The native and
the...

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He speaks for the uprooted.
A man of sorts, a twiggy Buddha.
He who interprets
the conferences of frogs,
the unpublished works
of kestrels and voles.

He’s an advocate for the underbelly
of a microbial heaven, for every kind
of uncouth animalcule.

Ancient is he, yet as fresh as tomorrow,
in green ponds he fishes...

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I heard the owl call my name,
like a backbeat in a child's voice,
etched in shadows of a father's grave,

lonely echoes on a frosted night...

at dawn I'll be immortal again,
renewed by a workaday 
and the frigid fiscal year,

my soul stays leafless in damp moonlight...

do we end...

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A very special place, beautiful, magical and withdrawn,
It's happy and content, never sad and forlorn,
I imagine to portray it's perfection will be tough,
No matter how hard I try I can't seem to get enough.

With fields and woods, ponds and ditches,
A stone house, a tower a...

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Note this poem was written some time ago but I was sick and deleted my site.  I have been patiently reposting my poems since 9 October 2000.

On November 13, 2002. The Prestige, one of twelve tanks burst during a storm off Galicia, in northwestern...

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Destination 
A historical place
But these Gettysburg landings
A place of race
 
The signals our droids
To the Kestrels they return
For their cargo on board
To them will be, infinitive burn
 
Over Pennsylvanian lands
These USAF ships fly
To rid these demons
From you and i
 
Gettysburg in approach
Their radar responds
Three sisters...

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Keepers of the secret
Knowledge, powerful men
Kneel before the altar
Knowing their prayers are
Kisses on God’s lips. New
Kingdoms come and go like
Kestrels in search of food....

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Life-giving blue lake filled almost to rim
Brings beauty and delight to ones full of dreams

Gives plentiful to migrated Canadian geese 
Offers cozy homes to duck families 

Meditating Cranes stand by banks
Male Gobblers dance charmingly ruffling their fans

Red-tailed Hawks, Kestrels and Eagles circle over high 
Searching...

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Gluggy margarine marine grips keels
        Apex sun spreads sickly circle of lard
        Plugged lungs, gust momentum marred
        Strait elongates co-ordinate, pace killed


  ...

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Squadron assembled
Trojans and droids
Three sisters their target
Null to void
 
Atmosphere entered
Red to grey glow
As we near earths terrain
Red rivers flow
 
Cities on fire
Civilisation of pyres
No daylight sensed
Extinguished, by these darkened pariah's
 
The droids report back
These sisters three
In New York spotted
Near the Statue of Liberty
 
The...

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where
  the egrets
           perch
where
   the petrels 
         nest
the 
    kestrels 
       screech
wrens
peep
above 
  ...

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He speaks for the uprooted.
A man of sorts, a twiggy Buddha.
He who interprets
the conferences of frogs,
the unpublished works
of kestrels and voles.

He’s an advocate for the underbelly
of a microbial heaven, for every kind
of uncouth animalcule.

Ancient is he, yet as fresh as tomorrow,
in green ponds he fishes...

Continue reading...