Best Squawks Poems
As sunrise silently
marinaded morningtide meadows,
our lips flowed like two streams,
merging within an exclusive estuary
so we set home upon the river bed.
At first we floated like butterflies in Babylon,
deaf to the squawks of mercenary crows,
blind to the creeping weeds,
which wandered amongst delicate petals
nor did I notice our submerging embankment.
As our estuary began to evaporate,
you left me stranded in the silt and mud.
My heart, once a blossoming garden,
evolved into a wasteland of sedges and sludge.
Still I wait for soothing streams to return,
but all I am left with is marshland of regret
and the silence of the butterflies.
I walk along the slippery shore.
of the shingled beach
that welcomes the inland sea.
The sun rises slowly in the east,
lighting my way amongst
the small rocks and drying seaweeds.
There is a lift inside me
that nurture enthusiasm.
Peace and quiet reign around
disturbed occasionally by the barks
of sprightly dogs that race upon the sand,
the squawks of gulls gliding gluttonously
swooping down for their repast.
I look with sympathy on other walkers
on the beach. Thus, I meditate,
a marvellously therapeutic exercise.
Who am I, Lord, to deserve all this?
The quiet meditation calms my mind.
lowers my blood pressure,
a spiritually potent release.
My mind is tranquil,
I know who I am,
my soul is happy.
Written: November 06, 2023
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A swarm of herring gulls amassed
Nexus Nautilus nabbed by zealous winds,
whitening the black soil
we hold spears in our hands.
blood-stained thorns on the side
sullen squawks a skirmishing sporophyte,
dubious, grayish rumors must be buried
drave in a drizzle, drape to deities.
Installation of sentry fences
Sisyphean stones
anchor down using seal and string
flaws in the swings used by blacksmiths
Unborn burning bullion bludgeon
Savage sunless swords embryonic
Edgeless, with no reflections.
Each peak over the Edenic Steppes is sprayed,
using torn paper candles as bait
climbing scaffolds with lumber rungs
pounding of leather-heavy boots
darkened, grimacing features
Flocks failing feathers or flight.
Our hold slips on windswept
Windswept updrafts carry us away
as offspring of the royal family.
Cuckoo clocks are quite ornate it is said
But those raucous squawks we suffer with dread
Why could not its designer
Have found a bird much finer
Like a sweet trilling canary instead
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 5 in Brian Strand's "Five Lines Down" Contest - May 2011
Some ancient wisdom
Doth behold; a parabolic
To unfold. Mathematics to
Delight ; resemble crescent
Moon at night! The alchemy
In this I see; a medieval
Fantasy . Behold the dragons
Tooth and claw; from it,
Power I will draw. Mystic
Names are writ in clay; and
Swept away before the
Day. Squalid squawks that
Screech the sky; bring chills
Into the heart that lies.
Fingers bony, nails that
Split; do stir the cauldron
With some spit. “Hail my
Demon, come to me”; if
You indulge my fancy free!
Thus I challenge, this bleak
World; what’s real I order
Inward curl. Tumble down
And thus reform; a universe
“Reductio ad Absurdum “
Is reborn!
He came each day, when the sun showed noon,
Two heels in a plastic bag-
Thermos of hot tea
To have lunch and
Read passages to the yellow birds-
Usually an hour, til they took flight.
But today the bench is unoccupied-
Empty, except for a plate of hardened ice,
Stuck smooth and tight on the iron,
and frozen sheets on the lath.
Yesterday his footprints showed-
They were longer than most,
From shuffling feet and a small round circle
At the side, from the walking stick...
But now they are gone-
Covered by snow on the path.
The ducks look, and for awhile they wait,
Funny squawks and squeaks in their throats,
Heads bobbing with each step of feet,
Perhaps the only ones to notice the empty bench.
Strange, they have not flown south yet,
As their pond is nothing but a white icedrome.
Perhaps they were waiting for their
Friend to go first, and now that
he has gone, they will soon take flight.
He walks spry in a gentler land,
Beard no longer gray,
Sitting warm- no aches or pains,
Face with no creased lines...
Feeding the yellow birds
on a silver pond each day at noon.
Sparrow
“You are just a sparrow Honey Chile “
“I’m not” she said to him
“You sort of sometimes drive me wild”
She said “it is no sin”
“So shut up Chook I’m gonna talk”
He clamps her beak so thin
She squeaks an something, squawks
And then she does him in
Don Johnson
For Francines competition 2nd
The mirage of yesterday shimmers over today,
pearly, dulcet, raining over sunshine memory
with an allure of tones chanted as poetry.
Nonverbal cues, squawks, screams, cheeps, brush
my ears over the crash of waves and the stolen
whispers of conversation I share with you.
If I pivot toward today, six feet gained in earthquake,
large uplifted seashore, risen like spires at my feet,
has shaken all doubts of time travel sameness.
The birds, so delicate, flaring tail or hopping up limbs
flood in flocks of chattering house sparrows saying
take up dream, favor yesterday’s search for birds
and make it sing with an allure of land, heart, mystery
spare consolation of the passing of days, spare
reflection of weather changing, eroding, uplifting.
This is what I would remember, the whale bones,
the Kiwi Christmas tree, the hikes upward into Kanaka
woods, and the sun lifting heat and heart toward future.
The maid busy cleaning the library
by any means necessary.
Jerry and Berry, the Macaw parrots
sitting on their tree perch
waiting for their tidbits of carrots;
When the maid got closer to the dictionary
with her wooden handle feather duster
They got excited, with high-pitch squawks,
heads switching side to side,
start fluttering their wings with the warm sun
around her red hair, and
they howler, " Where are our carrots?"
4/30/2023
'Writing Challenge - Words with 'X' -' Poetry Contest 7. excited
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Computers are not natural for me
I did not grow up knowing how to swipe
Scrolling up and down meant parchment paper
Bringing thoughts of ancient Rome to my head
Database, laptop, I-phone, were unknown words
Not developed yet, unheard of, not fathomed
I speak the language of trees, the sun, cloud talk.
Doing my best to imitate the trills and squawks of birds
I know my brain cannot duplicate beak talk
And yet I try, feeling a kindship to everything outdoors
Lying sometimes on a mound of dirt, feeling loved
There is a reverence here I cannot feel at the end of a swipe
Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these ‘it might have been’—John Greenleaf Whittier
without deep regret
apologetic parrot ~
squawks m
i n d racked a
n
g
u i s h
I love the sky as twilight falls
A breathtaking sight to behold
As hundreds of birds take to wing
Birds duck and dive, I hear their calls
From lilac skies now tinged with gold
Loud squawks, it's a shame they can't sing!
Beating wings, bird flight never stalls
As skies darken, night's taking hold
I don't want to miss anything
The changing sky always enthrals
I'll stay out until it gets cold
In summer, fall, winter or spring
The setting sun, seabirds in flight
I'll always marvel at this sight
Trilonnet Contest ~ Image 4
Checked with rhymezone and howmanysyllables
Sponsored by Joseph May
06/13/23
Sometimes it shrieks, hoots or creaks,
whistles, cries, trills or squeaks,
rattles, russles gurgles or moans,
babbles, crackles, grunts or groans.
Sometimes it chatters, chirps or howls,
baas, ribbits, hisses, roars or growls,
cackles, coos, squawks or crows,
chitters, bleats, clucks or bellows.
Sometimes it, barks, buzzes or caws,
clicks, gobbles, gurbles or heehaws,
moos, humms, oinks, meows or neighs,
peeps, purrs, quacks, snuffles or brays
the silence of nature is a never-ending song,
forget your troubles and come sings along.
Blue and gold Macaw,
bright butterscotch belly up,
kicks and squawks excitedly
beneath human hands
which give playful tummy rubs!
(I saw a video of this friendly smart
bird enjoying a rubdown from his owner!)
For the Contest: Blue and Gold
Sponsored by Rick Parise
All aboard the zoo train, let's ride there
Be amazed when you see the mighty bear
Cougars, big cats, crouch inside their lair
Desert tortoises creep, they move so slow
Eagles perch and stare from branches, low
Foxes peer out from within their dens
Great giraffes gawk, their necks extend
Hyenas laugh as they run and play
Iguanas lie and bask in the sun all day
Jaguar is regal, as she paces in her stall
Kangaroos nibble on leaves near a wall
Lions pace, the kings of the jungle
Meerkats hide in small holes and tunnels
Now we can view those amusing apes
Orangutans with their funny faces
Past the fountain, we see the polar bear
Quite a sight, as he swims over there
'Round the bend, we enter reptile land
Snakes that slither over rocks and sand
Tribal music sets the stage to see
Up high, as we look into the banyon trees
Vociferous squawks from bright toucans
Wild echos reverberate over the land
Xanadu dreams, on this enchanting day
You feel you've traveled miles away
Zoo magic memories were made today.
Updated on 5/18/2022
Written on 7/11/2015