Blackbirds Poems | Examples

Black Birds Flying At Walmart

Black Birds Flying at Wal-Mart
I see them gather, flock on flock,
At 7:30am sharp, they start to squawk and talk.
The sun peeks up, the horizon glows,
The air alive with cackles and crows.
Their feathers bristle, sharp and black,
They soar and dip, they dart fourth and back.
Their eyes, a yellow shining disc,
Reflect the light, a golden whisk.
The parking lot, their chosen stage,
They flutter, and fly in trees they engage.
Heads turn left and then to right,
When they fly the sky turns a speckled night.
They peck at crumbs, on scraps they dine,
Their steps in rhythm, a sequenced line.
Among the cars, they dance and sway,
When humans enter their territory they fly away.
From tree to light poles they take their flight,
Under the Walmart’s neon light.
Upward they rise to poles they glide,
On top of Walmart’s walls they nest and subside.
On the back of the wind, they wheel, and turn,
For insects, food, their hunger burns.
The Black Birds gather on shopping carts.
Masses of Black Birds flying at Wal-Mart.

Blackbirds And Wildflowers

My mind’s where fairy tales reside,
where a mote and castle collide;
A prince on a porcelain steed,
running away with him I’m freed;

Maybe a kingdom made of waves,
it’s wily princess misbehaves;
Locked inside it’s turbulent walls,
‘Anywhere but here!’ her soul calls;

When the darkness closes my eyes
I open them to salmon skies;
Blackbirds and vibrant wildflowers,
reality my daydream scours;

He and I doubled with laughter,
soak in romance ever after.

When Blackbirds Came

I remember when windchimes nestled in the heart
rainbows soothed the tainted cay of innocents
a golden candle tempering the fang of dark
I prayed, good spirits would always reign.

I remember the day when blackbirds came
in their fiery beaks was an icy-icy rain
smashing every bluebird into bits of clay. 
Silence and green-eyed things dominated the days
three decades of moths, chewed the good dream away.
Until I prayed no more.

The epiphanies then came in waves:
That windchimes only spoke
when the wind opened their cage-
Nobody paid attention to the candle
until dusk awakened to swallow the day-
The bluebird isn't really acknowledged
until his omega refrain is taken away-
 
Though the hands are now bent
the days are often spent, 
sifting amidst broken pieces of blue clay.
Nighttime arrives with chilling cries
as the teary-eyed mime tries in vain
to knead the blackbirds into flame.

Dead Blackbirds

A dead blackbird here
A dead blackbird there
Six more dead blackbirds 
Over there and there and there.

New Year’s Eve 2011.
I counted five, six, twelve, maybe twenty-seven.
Wait! Four more. We are up to thirty plus eleven.
Dead blackbirds on roofs. Dead blackbirds on walks.

Dead blackbirds in trees. None have their squawks.
Only in Arkansas, right? Someone said.
A year later in Kansas, a dead blackbird fell on my head.
Maybe but I do not know, I quickly replied.
Then I saw another, so I ran off to hide.

Watching Blackbirds

Watching Blackbirds

Again, I find myself watching the blackbirds
They come as a cloud that sits upon the ground
Each respecting his wingman’s space
As they pass overhead, they sound like a sudden spring shower
That comes, then goes, finding a place in the field

They move like water running across the way
Pulled by gravity to a lower venue
As they glean the area of worms, bugs and seeds
The rear faction takes to the air
Gliding to the lead for better feeding

This becomes a ritual that is repeated several times
Until the plate is empty, or the craw is filled
They rise in waves that join to make a twisted rope
Smoke from a generous campfire
Rolling, Roiling, tumbling and loping

They politely pass, waving goodbye
With each movement of their wings
And softly I can hear them sing

Blackbirds

a flock of blackbirds
take flight
surprised
a giggling toddler delights
in her own power




12/20/2021

Squeezing Blackbirds

Blackbirds have gathered in your eyes
feeding on canyon shadows throughout time
growing plump on imperfection-self doubt 
you must fight-hard and long with great resolve
because they're persistent and loud.

Grab hold of them one by one
squeeze until your palms fill
with silence and blood.
Toss the concoction off to the side.
Walk a path of white stones
into the garden of life..
Now, most all the blackbirds are gone
only the petals of poems fill your eyes.

Blackbirds On Her Arms

She has blackbirds on her arms
flying from scar to scar.
Covering the pain-all in vain
While singing black word songs.

Her destiny- a stormy mind
tossed about tranquility
in the howling waves of time.

Lanterns in the mist
gems of scattered hope
drift into the abyss...
Sshe has blackbirds on her arms.

4 and 20 Blackbirds

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thought there was a funny burning smell?
Four and twenty cherries baked in a fruit pie.
When the pie was opened it was found to be a lie.
There were 4 and 20 blackbirds, made yell! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blackbirds That Ate a Lot of Crow and More

Blackbirds That Ate A Lot of Crow

We knew some blackbirds who ate crow,
And we had an account blow by blow;
When they arrive,
Who would survive;
Probably friends and forget about foes.

Jim Horn

Cooler Coffee Began To Get

Seems like cooler my coffee did get,
Cats who are always our favorite pet,
Did hem and ha;
Scratch and paw;
While on my lap they both like to set.

Jim Horn

Was ambivilous to being frivolous and everyone became curious. 

There must be reasons why people are ambivilious,
And the are ending up finding themselves frivolous;

Blackbirds On a Wire

I stared intently at blackbirds on a wire
they were lined in a row
as though someone had painted them there
fascinated, I continued to gaze
hoping to identify which one would fly away first
knowing if one flew
the coop so to speak
the rest would follow because of some unknown
inner requirement
determined was I to single out the leader
of the flock
(do you call a group blackbirds a flock?
even if they are not flocking
but sitting?)
I dared not blink
but I knew that at some point in time I would have to
but I refused
the world stood still
there was no noise about
although I knew cars were passing by
concentration
intense concentration on that damn line of blackbirds
"Hey!"
startled I inadvertently turned to the sound
a woman
unknown to me
said
"When I fall in love and marry
I want to be studied with that
same intense consideration
hearing the sound of fluttering wings
I turned too late
the blackbirds were in the air

©June 29, 2017 / Jerry Pat Bolton

Blackbirds

A moment ago, 
in a flicker of pique,
with a wave of the hand,
I dispersed them.

Glorious birds, 
now they are back, 
gold talons wrapped, 
roosting.

Glorious birds,
high on a wire,
spearing the nits
in their feathers.


Donal Mahoney

Blackbirds Circling To Eye the Dark Festive Feast

Blackbirds Circling To Eye The Dark Festive Feast

Feast or famine, orbs in heart of a crow
love 's bright spirit and all it may bestow
Winging shadows fleeing fast every scene
bitter bile erupting from opened spleen

Flying in dark storms, hoping for a strike
dead soldiers, each head vaulted on a spike
Wonders within cleverly hidden clouds
priests in deep caves wearing unholy shrouds

Future life and great hopes it may reveal
when nothing matters, nothing there to steal
Blackbirds circling to eye dark festive feast
not even love soothes the raging black beast

Love and Fate doing battle worlds away
which is the greater fighter hard to say



Robert J. Lindley, 11-05-2016

Blackbirds

On Halloween morning they came,
  cawing and screeching in the trees.
A thousand or more noisy blackbirds
  flew in a group of one hundred four or more
  from yard to yard they raid as a clustered flight.

The sky grew thick and black with wings
   and undulating shrillness dark as night.
A sudden snap or some foreign, unkown noise
   forced them high up into the sky 
   and into the trees with their shrieking sounds.

The familiar little birds, the wrens, sparrows, doves
   all hide in low bushes hidden from up above.
As quiet comes, the blackbirds return again
   at first high in the oak they flock
   dancing on the branches, shaking all the leaves.

Then it appears so obvious, they set the acorns free
   a nut of every size and every tree that once could be.
They return down to the ground
  with boisterous flapping wings and that cawing sound
  flocking down as one before the mid day sun.

From the sun's glowing rays upon their neck
  reflects an irridiscent light of blue as they peck.
Then in a flash they rise, up and away to the skies
  as quiet begins to return again
  and the little ones are at last set free in serach of seed.

4 and 20 Pies - No Blackbirds

4 and 20 Pies – No Blackbirds


Oh, spare me the plethora of pies
the thumbs-up plumbs,
the pie in the sky dreams
of the pie lovers,
the onerous moooo
of the piebald cow
being milked
by the pie-eyed farmer
as his pied piper wife
lures the chickens
into a pot pie.
Pie charts to measure
children against nourishment,
who cuts, who chooses,
statistically
who wins, who loses,
 “pies the type”
of apples on the floor.
It ain’t that simple, Simon
say the “pietist”
who fear
that if Pi can’t be squared
pies end is drawing near.


John G. Lawless
10/9/2014

submitted to – Sheri Fresonke Harper
Plentitude of Pies – Poetry Contest

• Short Blackbirds Poems
• Famous Blackbirds Poems
• Best Blackbirds Poems
• Read Blackbirds Poems
• Long Blackbirds Poems
• Blackbirds Quotes