Looking at flowers, then leaves, I began to wonder about the roots and seeds. Yes, I thought, that's what I learned in Biology, Botany, Biodiversity ... But a brilliant, brainy, breath-takingly beautiful budgerigar whispered to me:
"You are "thought" [taught to think in boxes, as PT says] to objectify Nature from birth, almost. For us critters, the entire plant or tree is one of us, a community where we help, house, and hallow each other. It is all ONE life form, don''t you see. What are leaves but flowers yet to be? What are flowers but leaves modified for reproduction? Are your reproductive organs separate in type and origin than the rest of your body? Don't humans start life as one-and-two cells? Don't you see the seed - small and insignificant, perhaps - carries generations of trees, fruit, food, and shelter in it?"
Categories:
budgerigar, animal, bird, birth, childhood,
Form: Alliteration
BUDGERIGAR
Yellow green and a blue nose bump,
Came in a small paper bag
From a big bag of four,
Far from the warm southern sun
Streaming from Uluru to Lake Eyre,
And the distant salt scent of Spencer Gulf.
An excitement of yellow
A climax of chirping twittering then
Drinking a nearby lake dry.
Enjoying cool breezes down from the hills
On a cricket-loud night
Under the Southern Cross.
His home is with us now - a warmth of yellow,
A solitude of tears - welling and uncried.
A windowful of dampness
Obscures the smell of Spencer salt,
Swinging trapeze is not pomegranate trees
And their seeds of red pearls.
Clock tick silences the kookaburra laugh.
The clock is wrong -
Even the seasons are reversed:
Summer crickets are now winter icicles.
A frozen heritage -
He can outfly a diving falcon
But wire bars replace his southern stars.
No memory of swaying in swelling
Clouds a million strong.
A plastic mirror shows him he’s a bird.
..........................................
Categories:
budgerigar, bird,
Form: Free verse
BUDGERY JIM
About the 1880s Joe came to the Hebel area...
He passed by an Aboriginal camp...
Saw one sick man a lying there..
Bad food gave him the cramp..
Poisoned Joe thought, so they purged him..
castor oil in, to make him well...
With a touch of Epsom salts, so grim...
But sickness grip still held its spell...
The Witch Doctor came to the rescue...
Said "too much white man's tucker you eat"...
Sucked the badness out from his navel....
Spat blood and froth, not so sweet...
Witch doctor had been spitting blood...
a bite made in his own mouth...
He then spat out the bottle cap...
sauce bottles were lying about...
greedy fella too much tomato sauce...
spoke the Doctor with a sly grin...
you swallowed the bottle cap, like a horse...
cured you are now Budgery Jim....
Budgery rose and stepped, oh so lightly...
As only the Aussie native can....
Just like a young emu just might be ...
No death song for Budgery man....
Don Johnson
Budgerigar ...good bird ...
Budgery fella good fella...
Categories:
budgerigar, adventure,
Form: Ballad
BUDGERY JIM
About the 1880s Joe came to the Hebel area...
He passed by an Aboriginal camp...
Saw one sick man a lying there..
Bad food gave him the cramp..
Poisoned Joe thought, so they purged him..
castor oil in, to make him well...
With a touch of Epsom salts, so grim...
But sickness grip still held its spell...
The Witch Doctor came to the rescue...
Said "too much white man's tucker you eat"...
Sucked the badness out from his navel....
Spat blood and froth, not so sweet...
Witch doctor had been spitting blood...
a bite made in his own mouth...
He then spat out the bottle cap...
sauce bottles were lying about...
greedy fella too much tomato sauce...
spoke the Doctor with a sly grin...
you swallowed the bottle cap, like a horse...
cured you are now Budgery Jim....
Budgery rose and stepped, oh so lightly...
As only the Aussie native can....
Just like a young emu just might be ...
No death song for Budgery man....
Don Johnson
Budgerigar ...good bird ...
Budgery fella good fella...
Categories:
budgerigar, cowboy-western
Form: Ballad