Blackbird Poems - Poems about Blackbird

I felt like it was coming, not through buds breaking open, but through a softness in the air, like a soft napkin forgotten on the chest of an old icon. No one announced it not the wind, not the birds, not the old woman at the corner window, threading her days together with a broken needle. This spring has no footsteps, no voice, only the faint scent of resin and...

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What is that, 'midst gray silhouette A night-winged creature slips, beset? Fluttering through pampas and ground Mellow the dulcet trails of sound O blackbird, my breaths awaken By soft chimes...this angst forsaken Glimmering 'neath still of moonlight , I find peace in warlber's hymned flight !...

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the last blackbird even now, i’m not sure why i walked to the end of the avenue before sitting on the curb. one city bus marquee after another boasted that channel two news is best… until channel seven at six arrived with the next bus. at the end of the avenue blackbirds waited, watching near-empty sidewalks from a drooping wire. it was then i decided...

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a sure sign of spring red stripes like glowing ensigns the male marks his tree ...

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The telly fed me the propaganda. Of princesses and princes. Damsels in distress. Knights in shining armour. That was Love. It was always a man and a woman; perfect, no flaws. In spring, blackbirds sing outside my window; Males calling the females. But one blackbird remains silent. It watches me. It doesn’t sing for a mate like all the other Spring...

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Pure Gold rings Around pearly black eyes ~ The iridescent Blackbird stands still. Nesting material locked in beak ~ The colour matching her Pure Gold rings. Reflections stare back Of myself and the scene Around pearly black eyes. Amazed, I observe This beautiful creature ~ The iridescent Blackbird stands still. ...

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Yesterday, my brain-space was so null, It couldn’t have been nuller. To think, today, I learned so much From a bird devoid of color!...

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The blackbird wants to sing a song. What song? A song of freedom But its fragile beak is tied. The blackbird lives on the Island. Where the Aubrey's tongue Is tonged with coal. And black veil worn upon her head. When she chirps, it's unheard. When she spittle, it's waveless. She's chained to the bottomless pit. With flashes of lashes on her feet. She sounds...

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Birds do ballet out there on the grass. Gulls have come in from the sea. Blackbirds are always here, and so are crows, with jackdaws, too, and magpies. A silent ballet, nothing to hear within this small apartment, but you can hear a ballet through your eyes as these birds poke and peck - a hop here and a walk there. (22 Aug 2023)...

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In the backyard seen A black squirrel running The blackbird chasing A small black squirrel The blackbird hungry It is trying to steal Some of the eggs laid Blackbird is on guard Protecting the eggs The nest on the fur trees The squirrel no longer Are fed the peanuts Now that it is Spring They must fend for themselves...

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Blackbird singing in a redbud tree, Why such a sad and mournful ditty? I like your song, but, oh, tell me Is it meant to please or pity? Little brook babbling to a willow tree Of where he's been and where he's bound for. He tells his tales so joyfully, But willow's he can't stick around for. When romance dies what's left of...

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The road of runes The blackbird shrieks Night befalls like my brother The sequence is stet from a lonely toad stall Winding seawards over mossy fields Unbuttoned time Old men craving in ancient fields emotions staked in mud neon hopes fuse the last of day...

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all ears early morn' notes clear from yonder coppice ~ blackbird plays it's flute A Hiku Premier Poetry Contest Sponsored by Brian Strand Date written: 12/26/2022...

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Black magic woman. Wetback seal out on a limb. Custody battle worse than the raven itself. Bye Bye blackbird to Beethoven's symphony. Send a raven blackbird. In the night after dark in the evening at midnight after hours. Right for the midnight blackbird. All company ain't good company...

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(Elizabeth II 1926-2022) Are we - crow, blackbird, sparrow - aware of what's occurring? We cannot tell, they assume, but gape and gaze from up here. This is a land with a departed monarch. We - sparrow, blackbird, crow - flit or sit above the richness of that marching red regalia. Thousands of arms stretch, sinews strain, cameras are held aloft to catch the start of...

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