Too hot.
outside.
Fry egg,
sidewalk.
Big hawk,
dry mouth.
Yes rains
coming.
How hot,
too hot.
Fall is,
waiting.
Hooray!!!
the hawk
raptor sometimes called
black death or stealthy fighter
hawk owns names proudly
hawk
hawk soars above clouds
then dives fearlessly toward prey
clever is the hawk
hawk soars above
silhouettes kite against blue-
no strings attached
majestic in flight
sharp eyes always on lookout-
prey below be warned.
Soft spoken, the small grey dove,
far below the raptor’s eye,
flew low by a naked cliff-face
and thought it good to fly
and ride the rising winds,
forever looking down
at the world beneath her gentle wings,
unaware of falcon’s frown.
Then death came stooping down
at the pale bird far below -
the fastest thing alive -
prepared the killing blow.
For to cast into the wind
the feathers of his prey,
this fleshy missile on folded wings -
another death another day.
But the dove was much too canny
and swerved above a rock
at the very final moment,
falcon hit the earth in shock.
Instant death and gladly dealt
for between these birds, no love.
The falcon’s feathers blew that day
and the blow came from the dove.
What a fearful aspect in your eyes:
liquid, dark, fierce and deep;
two orbs rimmed with copper and gold,
and I wonder what awesome council you keep.
What is behind that thousand mile stare?
You look like a poet composing a line
or an orator pausing to grandly declaim
something profound for the ill of our time;
or a brave soldier standing guard,
outstaring the sun on Hadrian's wall;
or a handsome lover seeking to hold
a smitten maiden in a smouldering thrall.
Your glaring face fills my mind with wonder.
What are you thinking, hawk?
Hunger.
sunshine taunting, a hawk lifts silence with its wings
Another wee witty ditty about Chris (the Hawk) on BBC 6 Music - as they celebrate World Poetry week
“He talks the talk (well that’s his job to use his gob..twiddle that kn*b)
He walks the walk
But don’t balk..not a dork
Popped champagne cork
Baby face dropped by a stork
Won’t stalk like the Duke of York
Hasty that haircut.. we squawk
Looking pasty..no bulwark
At his barnet we gawk
But still love the Hawk
Tasty as a fork of Iberico pork
Let's all have a ball..twork
Maybe K.Y.O.B.C or just S.W.A.L.K”
The dull day dashed quietly,
On track of bursting seconds,
When I met a sad broody hen,
In bizarre twist, she seemed anxious.
Alarmed; I stretched near swiftly,
Her growls stirred my soft pulse,
When two hawks briskly took off; then,
A brood; blacks, browns, rose from grass.
In despair, they chirped sharply,
She surged, sighed, resumed her chores,
At once, she saw several; missed one,
And fled the hostile field in disgrace.
At all she cursed the twins, fiercely,
For they, it's just but dusk snacks,
Rare in such a savannah, so stubborn,
A prey ceased even before a torn slice.
A fair fortune in absurd fragility,
How foul to dare steal her success,
The chicks too naive; but not inane,
To think it's better in the safety of shells.
My shaky waves saved the family,
Joyfully I leave; but still her loss,
Now an equivocal tie; who's to gain,
The grassland weaves its lowly issues.
she soars, she glides
a raptor, a hawk
I watch in awe
ceasing my talk
there’s something holy about a bird flying this high
I watch her zoom out of sight above the dark sky
(“The Heart of It #4”, 2007, original oil)
(for Erika)
Yesterday you faced a congregation
That filled a stadium
And a hundred million homes
Shattered yet resurrected
Burned and reborn like a phoenix
And as we watched
Our hearts also broken
And needing to mend
You rose to the occasion
Bright, fierce, like a modern Joan of Arc
Armored and ready for crusade
Willing to show your broken heart
And the turning point of its healing
Through forgiveness
Yet all the time
Looking here and there
For threats and prey
With the eyes of a hawk
Hell bent on caring for its young
Young which in the moment
Included us all.
(9/22/25)
high up in the sky
scouring the field for its food
the red hawk circles
black hawk circles me
brings in a new recruit too
waiting for my death
I feel threatened
right now. there are six of them
was that a cough?
hawk watches him intent
magnetic hustler chases wild ~
bulging eyes fast fade
h IM
a
W ___________atches
k
IN TENT
@ > € £ M agne TIC & **
hustler
ch S
Ase WILd
B
U LG ing
e
YES
FAST
f a d
e • : ..
___________________
Near the yard, I heard the mother bird's loud cluck,
A signal to pull a sly trick on the hick.
Yuck! Her chicks all ran wild and scampered amok,
Scattered by the bumpkin swinging a big stick.
The dispersed chicks drew a cast of circling hawks,
That were happy to see meals within their grasp.
The hick and the hen, they must quickly outfox.
One hawk swooped low, its talons poised to clasp.
A chick grasped, the hawk then tried to fly away,
Mother hen ran after the hawk, eyes fire raged.
Fight ensued; chick-hunting again went astray.
The chick broke free when hawk and hen both engaged.
Like incense in a flower's heart, the chicks hid,
Their clucks hung like heavyweights on their weak necks.
Unseen tears of fear welled in their thin eyelids,
At least, from hawks their mother earned some respect.
I can’t rid of the bags under my eyes
The crowfeet despise, all were lies,
Conjured was an illusion of you
Throughout my groping confusion
evasive, flimsy
A-m-o-r-p-h-i-c, innuendos
I was subjected to your derision
dissing me relentlessly
deriding my appearance,
disparaging my intellect
as I stumbled and fell into the abyss
Mocking doesn’t suit my countenance
My lips desert dry, thirsty, parched
An amazon no longer beats its drum
My buoyant nature now laden with coarsened shroud
Leaving a cardboard moon deprived of its shine
Stars like candles blown out one by one
No use waiting for the rising Sun
The end of world does come,
stopped spinning neath heavy ebon clouds
Expectations unreal
All zeal gone, listless is my spirit
along with my illumination
Now you see me
unmasked in raw anguish
I d
r
o
o
p
jowls hang from endless
torment endured
like the drenched and cold, wounded hawk
taken flight, eagle-eyed, a warrioress
more determined and bold, traveling on
with unlimited range
and self-esteemed
This bird,
you
c
a
n
n
o
t c h a n g e
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