Best Nestlings Poems
There is a sombre silence,
as mist veils morning air.
A plethora of feathers
float among dew drops.
A ceremony of birds,
heads slumping,
soundless and homeless,
perch upon rooftops,
observing fallen nests,
cracked eggs and
lifeless nestlings.
Arrival of their fate
is like paper in a storm.
But birds don't ask why,
they just spread their wings and fly.
Categories:
nestlings, analogy,
Form:
Free verse
Oh, March
you pompous windbag
howling in the hollows
of Winters fade.
Scattering Fall’s gold
across warmed mud,
billowing tree bound
plastic bag kites,
hoisting the weightless hawk.
Oh March
you city street sweeper
funneling debris
down tunneled alleys,
tearing at the edges
of flailing flags,
hastening the pace
of lethargy’s malaise.
Oh March
you docile lamb
caressing soft peeking buds,
nurturing the squawk
of nestlings,
nudging idle cocoons
to wakefulness,
warming ophidian
cold blood.
Oh March
you are the hint
of warming’s kiss
titillating Spring’s yawn.
John G. Lawless
©3/1/2018
Categories:
nestlings, confusion, march,
Form:
Free verse
When the snout of lush abundance is full and flowing,
when all prey and creature-kind spill upon the verdant swards,
then it is that I worry night and day,
for the stoat, fox and hawk are at work,
they scythe in the whelm and nimiety, they hack and harrow.
The kits and chuckling’s are many, the light too bright;
for then the foragers forgoing fright, are palpable and open.
The long-eared nibblers, hairs on scattered rodents laid bare,
they scutter, skitter and twitch much in the open
greatly prone to be pounced upon;
their paltry pelts all unhidden, and being many,
and not running, they are huddled; yet not strong.
If this slew not ease, if the grabbers not falter,
if the singled-out dither, the glut not wither,
then the green snake will climb to where nestlings hutch -
they all so easily plucked and quickly snatched.
I worry for the wee brown birds; mottled shells still unhatched.
I fear a winnowing, withal a harsh hazard of gorge and sate.
I fret for the freshly delivered, the teeming,
the newly produced, all the bounding bounty
for those too easily found and so, arrived too late.
Categories:
nestlings, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Feeding the nestlings she came up an inch-worm too short.
Soggy ink-stained signs muttered in the rain.
The old cat caught the scent of a mouse.
A cat has nine lives, a frog croaks every night, but a rumor lives forever.
Freshly crushed coffee beans mellowed in the mist of sunrise.
The silence was shattered by the roar of a mosquito.
His voice was lost in the echoes of his anger.
The snake moved slowly over the hot stone massage.
The naked truth need not be covered up.
Categories:
nestlings, humor, word play, words,
Form:
List
In the land titled the Gift of the Nile,
where pharaohs rode in gilded chariots,
149 feet she elegantly stands,
in the sandy plains of Giza
For decades long gone,
shes taken the crown;
"the tallest master piece of man's hand"
a Triton amongst Minnows yes indeed,
if thou not believe,the Falcons do
for centuries gone they scaled her sculpture
high enough to see the land of the saints
years and years casing stones were lain,
limestone blocks coalesced in myriads
to form a triangular figure,
firm enough to outlive lake Superior
senile she may be,
she proves that old is gold!
for even the blind behold her in wonder
she dwarfs her surrounding like,
a queen she's always been
casing stones still encircle her
like nestlings before their mother,
and when the moon rises,
she shines like a figure
from wonderland
and hail to the ancient mathematicians
for designing a figure,
that is food to ones soul
Categories:
nestlings, creation,
Form:
Free verse
I stand neck-high tall
within the quicksand
of my infirmities.
Green and gaunt,
I hesitantly genuflect.
Ravaged tendons and corpuscles
are barely breathing
within the vacant corridors
of a soiled carcass.
My ardor for vindication
has been abandoned.
I presently refrain from accepting
the consultation of
umbrous soothsayers.
Readers of tealeaves and tarot cards
hurl my infractions towards
the apex of your divinity
and the nadir of my scrutiny.
I espy no Judas rope
(dangling from lofty boughs)
as scores
of unanswered novenas
sleep beneath my fingernails.
Scars flourish upon my skin -
agnate to larvae
and dried leaves.
The density of my marrow
turns moss covered and dank.
Choirs of starving nestlings
bear witness to my afflictions.
Swallowing the last notes
of a disenchanted requiem;
they slowly bind my wrists
with twigs of knotted reflections -
as Harper Lee's macaws
peck my cheeks and
the calculated feast ensues.
A murky blanket
of eventide quilts me
in fibers of remorse.
Lesions burst
underneath my skin;
they herald my inhumanity
as I impishly smile.
Connect-the-dot cold sores,
(not found in children’s books)
entwine a raw endoscope probe -
mocking
my charted results.
Inky woodlands
are devoid of carnival mirrors
and inner deliberations.
Such forms
of bun coed celebration minuet
within another's emptied psyche.
The conduits
to my umbra are blocked.
All exits are closed.
So, into the woods I go,
medicine chest-closed
and matchstick available.
Searching for answers
the starving nestlings
formerly consumed.
Categories:
nestlings, introspection
Form:
Free verse
Warm days herald in the spring
as she dances among young flowers
the mating call strong adds its ring
soon nestlings, calves and beavers
grow strong as she swirls past dancing
Hot flush of summer vibrant flowers
greet summer as she flashes past
in haste in case her time she flitters
falling in love a dance spell is cast
Autumn slowly following does
a dance most stately performs
she prances and flaunts on tiptoes
her stage is the forest platform
Winter grim and bleak in marches
her dance sometime very sullen
with her icy fingers she clutches
when she lets go you are heartbroken
On very rare occasions they come together
and dance around in joy of sisters united
oh what a time they have as they caper
forgetting the many times they have feuded
written 09/28/2013 by Shadow Hamilton
contest A Season's Dance
Categories:
nestlings, autumn, dance, seasons, spring,
Form:
Rhyme
I Am The Artist Of My Life
Aloft the hills I sit
The world behind
The clear sky above
I, my master,
And my soulful thoughts
Reaching nothingness.
So what is this life all about?
I continued my journey
To reach my snowy summit
Before the birds return to their nestlings.
Perusing over the years fled by
Childhood simplicity
Had been ravaged
With growing up years.
Engulfed in the confusion of my direction
I wondered if I was on the right trail.
My staff in hand I swiftly changed my direction
I left behind the scrubby slopes midst firs and yews
And magnetically moved toward an unknown destination.
An invincible call beckoned me to the laughing sunny maples
Breathlessly I quickened my pace and Lo Behold:
I was standing in a painted valley of flowers
Hanging in the heavens by God's invisible chains.
Rose bushes and wild strawberries accompa'kknied me
While the amaranthine rhododendron clusters smiled from afar
The fields were perfumed with paradise pink orchids and azure poppies,
The snowy daisies, lavender bell-flowers and rusty marigolds
Carpeted the valley floor with the humming bees and hopping lime butterflies.
The myriad colours brushed the fragrant carpeted hills
For acres and acres, casting their magic spell by
Scintillating my life and clearing my doubts and confusions of
Who am I? What is this life all about? What am I doing here?
I am what my name symbolises! I am the power!
I am the spirit! I am the creator of my own life!
I am the artist to paint my life in all its prismatic hues.
May 15, 2016
For Chris Teas
(January 2, 2015
Conest: One Of Your Best Poetry
Sponsor: Rob Carmack)
Categories:
nestlings, beauty, confusion, creation, flower,
Form:
Free verse
23 January 2010
A Snug House
A snug house on the prairie
Where family members return and urge to nestle
Stoking intimacy has gone past timely reunion
During pluvial and winter season, it withstands
The pineal form of its roof
Where nestlings kept and fed by their mother bird
Also life-giving when getting sun-bathe its frame
A time to harmonize to the swing of season’s best
A place to revitalize strength after a snappy pace in work
Pointless and aimless views settled in one decision
As all are desolating and aging
A promise is kept for going back again
Hibernate in the coldness of the night
A return engagement to activities in daylight
Back and forth nailed its floor with footsteps
By sunrise everyone is gone, alone again standing is the snug house
Categories:
nestlings, family, life, places,
Form:
Free verse
Listen with a beckoned ear.
The way a tandem flock
Assembles to the gravity of warmth.
Fearlessly cascading the open sky.
Only to veer for nourishment
Or an unpredictable speck of dust.
A kiss is first science, then art.
Osculating the geometric curves of the fit.
Once true, a kiss becomes abstract to the senses.
Perceptively measured by taste and texture.
Come. Please.
While we are nestlings in this season.
Let’s experiment.
Perhaps practice with a pallet and brush.
Categories:
nestlings, adventure, science,
Form:
Free verse
A nesting is but invaded
All nestlings abandoned
But ‘four’ eggs shelled?
Mother bird is gone
Many a tuft of feathers
Drying in the winds!
Broken twigs have bent
The nest will sit misshapen
Under treed branches above!
Mother overhead flees
Skyward tweeting call-back cries
A hungry snake waits!
Categories:
nestlings, bird,
Form:
Haiku
hold
your mouths open nestlings
for your parents to feed you
dare I ever close my own
to any food I need
Categories:
nestlings, bird,
Form:
Tanka
Bluebird playing blind-
man's bluff, tag you are bird "it"
nestlings dull colors
Categories:
nestlings, animals
Form:
Haiku
Unnameable the moment when it starts
The sun goes turns black and flowers die on the stalk
The agony in the garden of the heart
Unnatural rhythms subvert accountants’ charts
Poor nestlings feel the onslaught of the hawk
Untraceable the moment when it starts
For always seemed our love, and quiet its art
Banal the labels in a doctor’s talk
Of agony in the gardens of the heart
Speechless,cold and numb the separate parts
Each one with its indirection walks
Untraceable the moment when it starts
That one who knew our measure must depart
Wounds our sense of self now writ in chalk
Such agony in the gardens of the heart
Like a skylark trapped,untimely, caught
I the one time lover fear the night
So minute at the moment when it starts
Agony strips the garden of the heart
Categories:
nestlings, emotions, grief,
Form:
Villanelle
Dark into its den submissively shrinking
Twinkle came in triumphantly invading
Long waited glister the world tendering
There comes at last the blissful morning
The big tree just in front so far sleeping
With melodious sounds now pullulating
Joining the chorals in the new day praising
‘Robbie’ and ‘Tweetie’,up there, happily singing.
A kiss, a hug then ‘Robbie’ is away flying
Over the tree, the sky for a while roaming
To distant plains, remote streams heading
Food for their newborn nestlings seeking.
‘Tweetie’ out of the tree never venturing
Her homey , cosy nest beautifully trimming
Against winds and dangers dutifully fortifying
Her progeny in the cradle peacefully snuggling.
One day ‘Tweetie’ heard of a world, bewitching.
Wonder in her heart was slowly prevailing
Her existence looks now pitifully unavailing
For change and exemption unprecedentedly longing.
She leaves the next morning, all perils dwarfing
From above, she can see where she was dwelling.
A tremor along her spine painfully repelling
Freedom spell all her being controlling.
In the world ‘Tweetie’ went on wandering and feeling
More and more magic her innocence discovering
Unaware of predators in the hide lurking
Until they attacked all the charm shattering.
Remorse, fear over her mind gaining
‘Tweetie’ returned to her fledglings
The nest now empty in parts falling
She waited and waits and waiting
Categories:
nestlings, familyworld, tree, day, tree,
Form: