built a nest out of twin twigs
instead of a camp fire fire starter
laid eggs away from threats
instead of posing for bird watcher enthusiasts
brought home worms for babies' consumption
instead of baiting them for fished
flying against rural strong wind
instead of the resistance from urban polluted air
got printed on educational books
instead of having place in the world.
Santa was a bird watcher
Until they turned his own ideas on him
Now they are flying in to investigate
To ask him questions.
Robins, wrens, sparrows,
Cardinals, blue jay, goldfinch.
Questions upon questions.
What is Mrs. Claus’ favorite dessert?
What is her favorite perfume?
Who is her favorite musician?
What bands does she listen to?
Santa wished he knew the answers.
my ears trembled
striving to understand
so I could capture the tweets and peeps
but there has been no alphabet that can
for the faerie creatures who fly from the trees
have no mouths, so do not form the same sounds
to capture the noises we hear can be done on tape
but to place them on paper? An impossibility
unless we form a new alphabet
and what bird watcher is ready to spend
that kind of time?
Okay.
Put your hand down.
crows collecting twigs
peppering the neighbourhood -
salt stained bird watcher
03/15/2019
Writing Challenge 2, March 2019 - Haiku - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart
Nothing happens here
In the next village, a man was trapped under his tractor
and in another village, a man fell out of an oak tree
No one asked what he was doing there but his
trousers’ zip was open which caused endless rumours
he also had binoculars, so he was a bird watcher then
only most birds have flown to Africa this time of year.
Emma, the nurse, lives nearby, and she always keeps
a window open when she does her aerobics in the nude
My left leg hurts I have to use a crutch had a fall you see
but not in our village nothing happens here.
Symptoms are not who I am
Disease is not my name
Medication is not your fix-it-up
And treatments are not your game
My body is not your fieldwork
This machine that lets me live
My mind is not that experiment
It has yet plenty thoughts to give
Do you know what?
Choices routine and home
Those aren't yours
Please leave me alone
I don't want to take a test
Or endure such pokes and pills
I have enough going on
Without those wrecking side effect chills
Listen to my feeling
Of why I chose not intervention
You'll understand my voice
If you have the right intention
Grace and God. Beauty and life!
This is me! Potential Power Prosperity
Third grade teacher, bird watcher, world traveler
Piano player, pastry baker, flower planter
I am with my family!
The White-throated Needletail
The white-throated needletail
(World’s fastest bird)
Was recently spotted
And quick spread the word
Only eight other sightings
In one seventy years
On the Isle of Harris
The bird watcher hears
And so ornithologist
From near and from far
Gathered in June
To observe this bird star
They were not disappointed
As the bird soon flashed by
Straight as an arrow
Straight cross the sky
Straight into the blades
Of a wind turbine machine
Straight into nirvana
If you know what I mean
Joined the invisible choir
Left this mortal coil
Scattered its feathers
Upon Scotland’s soil
This rare little bird
That flew like the wind
May have just disappeared
To be seen not again
Uncle Mike
I watched a fragile bird today
painted black and white and gray
Prancing all about me
as if to dance and play.
He hopped around the grassy grounds
in hopes of breakfast beetles
To give him strength to fly again
in search of nesting twigs and needles.
Not being an ornithologists or bird watcher
by science or trade
I did not know the name of him
though still hear the sounds he made.
In those moments there before us
when time stood up on end
And for a while did make me smile
and feel like me again.
For reasons I still don't understand
how he captured my attention...
gazing on this feathered friend
Taking me to another dimension.
'til he struck gold right down below green
and came up with a trinket he prized
Of food for a day and words I can't say
Of this wonder that took to the skies.
My dear brain, forgive me, won't you?
I've filled you with alcohol, time and again
My heart's silence drowning the head's tin can
Once and for all I am delivered to you
Forgive me, won't you?
Give me time, an agenda if you must.
Make me a shoe salesman, a bird-watcher,
A circus clown, whatever...
But keep and restore the Trust of the Spirit.
Forgive me, brain.
Dear Brain,
My dear brain, forgive me, won't you?
I've filled you with alcohol, time and again
My heart's silence drowning the head's tin can
Once and for all I am delivered to you
Forgive me, won't you?
I walk now in dry landscape
The full clarity of the mind's wrongs
Radiating against my neurons
Bristling against the inchoate...
Fix it, put it all in place...
Give me time, an agenda if you must.
Make me a shoe salesman, a bird-watcher,
A circus clown, whatever...
But keep and restore the Trust
Of the spirit--
(if I can't hear it
than they can't hear it.
If I don't sing it, its never been sung.
Though if I write it, I've made a puddle...)
Without it there is no sailing.
No joyous movement; only love's curtailing.
Forgive me, brain.
Sincerely,
The Rest Of The Body
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.