Marvelous to see
a condor soar
unlike the ghoul
when landed and picking --
master of thermals!
dark lord of demise --
which makes me more
profoundly consider
his tearing beak, and
vacant, soulless eyes
imagining now, a higher
purpose, loftier reason
for his seeming casual
glides -- dripping red, making
bleeding sunsets~ exposing
man's many elevated truths
(righteousness we use to
impale one another)
as splatters of bloody lies --
A condor in the window
Lilting to one side
Favoring the throat not yet marked.
Cain’s hand—colder
Than described.
A star on frosted glass.
There is light beneath the crystals
It powers the melting.
Oasis half-waded.
A waif to the roar of dusk
I open all the closed doors,
Remove the drafting animals.
It is a runway of cornflowers.
The condor’s tongue swells
Until it fills his jagged mouth.
Eye of a cauldron
Splashing in black mud
I begin the process of sinking.
Come evening I am shadows.
Come evening I am below it all.
My sky friend knew the glistening wound would
Prove fatal as my faith pulled
Itself to the side of the highway to die
Among that patch of diesel blooms and
Pull tabs. He did not weep for me.
He knew as I do the reason for the
Turn and others would soon
Though no spirit would be bled
As slowly as his. The Birds of Thunder
Can only flash their warnings through ageless tears
From eyes known only to me.
Eyes of red and of tears.
Only one-and-a-half score will see the end.
The sky watchers will notice tonight .
But for now the ozone burns
Off the life-light and makes the azure blanket
Curtain-like.
Yet the event will not be known
for days and understood never
(like the bird of time and of tears and of spirit).
They and I are not of this World;
Aliens to logic but also fear.
And as the ending begins
Few will remember this day
The red star left the sky.
Ghostly figure in white
Wearing the oni mask
Softly plays the heavenly jade xiao
gleaming in the moonlight
Underneath the peach blossom trees
A sweet fragrance in the air
Near the pagoda waits
Like a Ghost in the night
Playing the song of the sea and waves
On haunted isle
While peach blossoms swirl around
Eastern evil waits patiently
Awaiting the day his daughter comes home
note: based on Huang Yaoshi from the 2017 chinese drama legend of the condor heroes.
Fly! Fly! Fly! my friend, sail wide, see those that see no more. Trust your sight, given, still the curiosity, of existing borders, cross those, the ones we have forgotten. Seek the wonders, offered, the ones that I have ignored. Pass your adventures onto myself, the dream, which I seek, needed to withstand the loss, self made ignorance, blindness of the adventure, which I implore. Ah, the existence of your being, gift given, I will adore.
Fly, my friend, go to the limit, the destined end. Live your life well, stretch the joy of that lived, remember well, never doing, is the self made wrath.
I fly, alone, powerful, high up in the skies
Wondering at what makes clouds grey
At what makes the land green
At what does there be for me, except the carrying of my duty
I fly, alone, powerful, wanting to be deaf at humanity's cries
When, I do see that blindly, people do go on their way
While being consciously mean
While being attached to this world and its promise of liberty
I fly, alone, powerful, knowing full well that I am scary
Even weird, for I am a predator
I hunt, live, and do take the time to sit and wonder
Wonder at why does life seem to be so silly
I am the condor, the one great powerful bird of the world
I am the only one who does see what does there be up above
Above the blue veil, above the grey cloud
But, being the guard of the skies, I do keep pretending to be a silent sentry!
5/14/2015
Ten thousand years ago he roamed free
He was king of the sky on both coasts
Now his kind is just clinging to life
Only about 160 birds left to boast
Lead poisoning led to his decline
That, and the predation of man
Now, sadly, he's raised in a cage
Protected as much as we can
With a wing span of up to 9 feet
His bald head seems far to small
But in flight he's quite spectacular
For in the air he's not ugly at all
Each little egg is a treasure
As we try to hold on to the past
We try to play surrogate mother
In hopes their species will last..........
The centering instruction "kinda" worked...
El Condor Pasa means Flight of the Condor
Song preformed by Simon and Garfunkel
I'd rather be a
sparrow than a snail
Yes I would
If I could
I surely would.
(Do you remember this one?)
The Buzzard
Watching the buzzard up high
Circling in the clear blue sky
Catching the air currents, free
Looking down on you and me
Searching for nourishment, meat
As he circles what does he see
His homeland, his dead tree
A great country that's still free
A homeland riddled with crime
No longer really safe, nor free
Freedom to leave doors unlocked
Cars no longer safe to just park
Maybe the buzzard is waiting
To feed, on filth that rules
The streets with crime, drugs
Handguns wildly handled
(Unfinished and rhymes somewhat. Can you think from news of something to
add?)
El Condor...........
Flying
This snowscape
High flight
High escape
Mountain light
This solitary flying
Wind sighing
Mountain light
Andean flight
El Condor
Soaring high
Andean home
Flying alone
Hear the moan
Of Incan wind
Hear it sigh
El Condor
This Incan wind blows
Andean mountain snows
The Inca have now gone
El Condor
Temple of the sun
El Condor..............
has won
El Condor
High in sky,
watching me
I see you fly,
you know why
God of sky
This great spread of wing
Land of inca,
encompassing
Mountain height
Mountain light
El Condor
Moon
Sun
Earth
Thunder
Lightning
Sea
These gods you see............
Cannot compare
To the giant of the air
That flies free
El Condor
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