Neon and noise.
Night-world horrors.
Whose reflections, whose echoes
Showed not, nor shook
Its panes and doors.
Conscience-singeing.
Waywardly flapped.
Strange appeal! Once sought but through
A moonlight kiss.
A round dance. Clapped.
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ cock-sparrow ¦¦¦ on a green tree,
¦¦¦ he chirruped, ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ so merry ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦
A ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ boy came with his ¦¦¦ bow and arrow,
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ to shoot this ¦¦¦¦¦¦ cock-sparrow.
"This ¦¦¦¦¦¦ cock-sparrow shall make ¦¦¦ a stew,
And ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ pie, too."
¦¦¦¦ no," says the sparrow "I won't ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ he flapped his wings ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ he flew.
(Blackout of Boy And The Sparrow by Mother Goose)
Autumn arrived early that day
Along a hint of frost, though it did not rain.
The geese were restless, gaggling earnestly.
Something was utterly wrong.
Near the edge of the lake, one goose was dead.
Its mate uttered a dirge, a low, pitiful sound.
Snow began to fall, and geese were restless.
Suddenly, the leader flapped its wings.
Up they flew in V formation heading south.
Only the surviving male stayed for some time.
Soon, the dead goose was covered in snow.
Then the gander flew alone towards the warmth.
We once called Dogs guardians of our compounds and our heart,
Heart of the household, warm as bread and bright as blaze,
Blaze that bowed at our feet in the inaudible obscure.
Obscure fell like a butcher’s shutter across the tetragonal,
Tetragonal where fidelity once flapped its tender tail,
Tail now dangles like a query in the market air.
Air profuse with starvation, a wolf wearing a hominid face,
Face of famine, carving memory like stiff bone,
Bone soup boiling where trust once had its residence.
Residence at the table set with silver and with disgrace,
Disgrace salted into every affectionate, rented inhalation,
Inhalation of a comrade we entitled as love before it became meat.
Meat of dogs have become preferred and delicious food,
Food for some people, for lunch or diner in homes or eateries,
Eateries' existing due to man's business of murdering and hating Dogs,
Dogs suffering betrayal yet they have been loyal to man.
Poem by N. Mugisho
I gazed at one doll and one pillow in an abandoned house. A wall was charred. How many more dolls did these walls contain? How many memories? How many lives? I was standing at the intersection as traffic following a pilot vehicle streamed past. Soil was torn, new lines to houses installed, and soil was replaced. All in a day’s work. An assignment, after all. But I couldn’t help but embrace images of a family who lived there. In absence of facts, a story created lingered in the air.
on a cold day
a curtain unfurled
flapped to the wind
Written For A Cleaver Intriguing Haibun Contest
jacinta allen..You should be banned, from Aussie mateship...For the things you've planned.' Mind you you've the time as you sit on that square, what used to be a rump
Resembles a deflated tractor tyre spare, oh dear jaciinta (so fat and bland ) why do you
Ban relief vehicles from our farmers land..
I thought much flatulence, was
coming from those pigs.. Ya know the carcases that got burned up..Swollen ugly taut and big ' then i
Saw the wobble of your tripple chin..and a stench.' When your moudh flapped wide, Well it hit me worse
than a garbos grime, in fact like
Pure sin.' Look!! You can keep your toxic ideas from hell, oh and i must note jacinta
Your visa there has been stamped as well.'
I inched onto a cliff
Flapped my arms
And almost flew.
I stood on my head
Blowing a trumpet
Wearing my Sunday best.
I tried different
Bird songs…
A meadowlark
‘tee-tee-tee’
A raven
‘cow-cow, cow-cow’
A canary
‘tweet-tweet, Sweet-teeth.’
I flew to Mars
And back
To impress you
With red
Sparkling rocks.
I gave the very best
Wild signals
The ones whales make.
But our oceans are too noisy.
Some days, I suffer enraptured
No scornful arrow can reach so high
Flappy angels think me a spy
For what reason, why?
Is it wrong to be this happy before I die
Or should I just watch life pass me by
Too deliriously sad to offer a smile?
They just flapped and stared a while
Unable to reconcile
Then flew away
With aught more to say
But now I'm sad
And sinking fast
And maybe even a bit mad
That angels, or anyone, could think that way
And how I let them ruin my day:
Giving their flappy opinions-
Too much sway
Oh, well-
At least I've shattered dreams-
And bills to pay!
What was I so happy for anyway?!
I've got a headache
I think I'll find a place to lay
Or go jump in a lake
I bet those flappy wings were fake
And those halos: wire and 'Papier-Mâché'
Written: November 13, 2025, for contest sponsored by Joseph May.
" Inspired by the song: 'Like a Wounded Bird Trying to Fly' sung by Kurt Vile.
*****************
Like a wounded bird trying to fly,
I flapped through a mellifluous sky—
not quite broken, not quite bold,
just chasing warmth over winds grown cold.
I strummed my soul on an equine red,
while ghosts of my father rode rails in my head.
My mother, shrewd, stitched up our knees—
with eleemosynary grace and teas.
Now I sit where the green ferns grow,
my kids disport in the woods below.
There’s an imbroglio in my chest—
a luculent ache I can’t arrest.
So if you find me, don’t ask why
I’m like a wounded bird trying to fly.
It is only my style of saying goodbye—
to the weight, the waste, the wondering why.
As I sat and watched the sun this morning, rise
It made me realize
There were children waving "Bye"
To the blue birds in the sky
When I sat and watched the sun this morning, rise
The blue birds flapped their wings
And the children on their swings
It made me realize
That children are having fun
And blue birds fly in the sun
"When I sat and watched the sun this morning, rise"
As I watched the sun this afternoon
I thought the night would be here soon
It made me realize
That when that sunlight dies
I'll sit and watch this evening's moon, rise
I sat and watched this evening's moon, rise
It made me realize
There were stars out in the skies
I could hear the angels sing
And I thought...what else this night might bring?
"While I sit and watch this evening's moon, rise"
2025.3.24@03:08:34
I was sitting on the bench,
Under an enormous pine tree
Situated along the concrete footpath,
Away from the beach.
After a short rest,
I took out a box of food,
Enjoyed my home made lunch,
Was not long at all, a flock of seaguls,
Came from every where landed around my feet.
Each time I threw my food high,
Up in the air into the sky,
They were exited and flapped their wings
Wide opened their beaks,
And made their distinctive sound "Krraa, karra"
When I stopped feeding them,
They settled down and patiently waited,
Something caught my eyes,
In a distance, between my bench,
And before the sand reached the ocean,
A single seagull, stood on a stone wall,
Patiently, looking at us all.
What did it want?
I raised the question to the seagulls.
Instead of answering me, they flu
Away one by one,
The Loner seagull joined them at once,
And they all disappeared as Mr Loner always did.
Flying to Mars
There was a young man popular among the girls
But he overlooked them because his dream was to reach the moon and beyond
To do this he needed the feathers of the paradise bird, they were colorful, and made him look handsome, but he needed the stronger feathers of the eagle
When he was ready, he climbed a pile of rocks
The legend said had fallen from the sky a day in May 500 years ago
The girls were there admiring his plumage some
Nervous elders too begging him, not to try this foolish thing
The young, brave man flapped his wings and under breathless silence from the onlooker took flight and watched him to where the sky
Got hazy
The next morning the village woke up to a bang
They found the burned body which had flowed too near the sun on his way to Mars, his name was not Icarus but Elon Musk
I dial Dad, in early morning.
The youngest of three
in her family, his birth-day twin,
his cousin passed away.
I look at the snow covered branches
as the sun comes up, this side of heaven.
Should my heart be heavy, tears
streaming down?
They’d only freeze at these temperatures,
and slide down the slippery slope
of my steep driveway.
My grand wanted to escape his home,
yesterday, but I couldn’t chance
to end up in a ditch across the street.
He flapped his wings to make an angel
in the snow, but didn’t get enough time
outside; I thought they’d wear him out;
where did childhood go?
I remember the feel of frozen cheeks,
sledding down hills (he so wanted that!);
can’t judge. Each household runs
on its own steam of responsibility,
but, oh, how I wish for him, he could
have stayed out late, slipping and
sliding, agape…how much do kids
miss out today; why can’t they play
outside of virtual reality. Oh, has
Cousin J. been set free to fly
in whatever way her heart desires?
Hope so, and with my mom,
and Aunt J. too; enjoying her rest.
God bless!
I stood on a boulder in the Andes
And stared at an albatross flapped
Its wind vane on top a sycamore.
I don't know why it stood there
But I know it struggled to claw
In the jaws of the branches.
Today I clambered same crown
Gawking on the blue empyrean
Then glared at vultures picking entrails
Of the white quills of the cross.
Oh! I don't know the bullets in the chests
Of a black widow.
Squeaking hyenas gathered at the carrion as well.
Oceans welled the furrow of my face
And my red balloons thumped and stamped.
Is that how the sparkling stars feign from the nights?
Is that how the roaring lion whisper in feign silence
While fed upon by black ants and leeches?
Well, I guessed I have to breathe each gas
As my very last with golden wreath.
For dear life is a candle wax that glitters and feign
In the twinkle of crystal balls.
I will thread on the seas and oceans as well
With fragile toes.
You made those quiet tears fall from my eyes,
No one around me, sadness intervened,
As the burgundy sun clung to the eaves
Like ice.Through my heartache, I watched a burnt
Horizon paste darkness against the stars.
A shard of nightfall, a hunter moon, floated
Far past the clouds. I dreamt of death, my eyes
Yearned for light, in that odorless dream
I've always had. Why were you there? Who was
That with you? What words were exchanged? Why do
Tears flood my being suddenly,
when dreaming
Shortens the space between us? My tears flowed
With my heart's song, and my blanket lay sprawled
Beside me like a thirsty grey bat. Still,
Still, still, it flapped away through the crepuscule,
Toward that gold moon, diffusing into cauldrons.
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