Long Grackles Poems
Long Grackles Poems. Below are the most popular long Grackles by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Grackles poems by poem length and keyword.
The Great Hall of the People, Beijing.
Mozart tonight.
After the opera,
she appears above us,
stepping out of
a Chinese painting of heaven.
She is the Queen of the Night,
an Ibis arriving amid grackles.
After the performance
she descends into the foyer.
Camera’s whir, we press forward
to glimpse her.
A delicate Chinese girl.
We are stunned once more
by the power of the beautiful
to command our devotion.
This is her moment,
her Jupiter symphony
and perhaps her Requiem.
Where does she go from here?
Nothing can ever match this.
The powerful will be suspicious
of her art,
her vision of a world beyond,
blood stained
Tiananmen Square.
The summer has thickened,
it has turned the hare into a dervish,
the raccoon to a pantomime villain,
made mice sing in the beaks of owls.
The woods are bare now
trees rattle, grackles cackle,
blue Ice chimes in the deep freeze.
Witches flirt and flit
They have skeleton corsets,
they ride upon racks of lamb.
Their mousy, grey moon petticoats
are tattered by thorns.
By December the land crunches
under tread, the snow creaks
like a an unearthed catacomb.
Reckless children are lost
In the rumors of dark folktales.
The year turns, tinder burns,
lovers remember an inner climate
where limbs blush
when kissed by a kindness
as soft as sunlit rain.
Now and then, and yet again,
clouds circle a bright fanlight
of sky.
Seasons return only to sail
on by.
Grackles
I rambled along a city street
Going nowhere with no one to meet
When I espied grackles in a tree,
Stretching and heckling between the leaves.
Purplish-headed, black-feathered beings,
Perched on the branches, stately and free.
Undaunted by my drawing nearer,
Their yellow eyes traced my demeanour.
And when I stopped to observe the plague
While standing ‘neath the foliage shade,
They dropped to the ground and hopped around
Searching for bugs and seeds to swallow down.
Other birds in the vicinity,
Colourfully dressed and singing brightly,
Flitted about but could not drown out
The grackles’ cacophony hereabouts.
Their corny antics invoked my senses
To marvel that such creatures existed.
And as I continue my dreary way
In this world of bland human display,
I think of them enjoying the summer,
Filling my heart with spirited wonder.
And I chuckle to myself by chance to see
Grackles basking in tall broadleaf trees.
In the depth of the night, a concerto commenced,
With drums of thunder and a melody of rain.
Wind flutes played loud sniveling notes,
Carrying pulsating tunes in blustery tones.
Streaks of lightening, with their baton of light,
Led the blasting orchestra with dynamic might.
Trees swayed wildly, leaves scattered with force,
Rain soaked the paths, shattering dense shadows.
As dawn tiptoed, with the sun’s gentle caress,
Melodic whistles, cheeps and croaks took the stage.
Blue bonnets danced, greeting butterflies and bees,
Jays and cardinals capered under the radiant trees.
Hummingbirds frolicked around the buds of paintbrush,
Grackles called out in an enthusiastic rush.
Scissor-tailed flycatchers hovered, tails unfurled,
Charmed their mates with their squeaks and chirrs.
Pinkladies and Firewheels in their spectacular array,
Welcomed the day, luring pollinators their way.
The storm disappeared, giving way to a tranquil zephyr,
Joyfulness prevailed, in awe of Mother Earth’s endeavor.
A flood of grackles,
black-leafing the tree
who seem to’ve forgot
that its not
Winter;
it’s Spring and everything
is about to flower.
Eva says they are starling
and they may be.
She says they crowd the uncrowded
barebranch trees and blot out
the sun and blot out the Spring’s sounds.
The nattering and chirp-chattering
is a great April chorus for us,
down here...in the frostbit grass.
The ear is rung like a town bell
as thoughts are misshapen and lost.
A woodpecker, somewhere
is into his or her daily
mind-numbing rat-a-tat-chattering;
Unburying dreams, dreams in the heartwood.
It’s the 16th day in a row.
Or seventh.
Or 38th.
(It was once that I could count.)
A neighbor’s rooster breaks the night,
breaks the dawn,
breaks the morning
wide open.
An earful all day (break)
The horses whinny in
their morning mare-compare-mare-ing
then find their way to their place
in their paddocks.
The air is abound with sound.
Three geese,
circle over.
From dawn’s waxen East
feathering past a flaxen South
gaggling to the black sun West
they klaxon forth to nourishing North.
and there is no hearing, now...
not even
a single starling
(If ever there were such a thing.)
Not now, not even -
a single peck of wood.
Not now, not -
a single cockle is doodled or done.
Not a single mare is heard from her herd.
and there is no hearing, now...
not even
a single grackle
(If ever there were such a thing.)
Birds seen flying together in large flocks tonight
Words of warning sounds emit as coos and cackles
Herds of cows start running toward the barn door light
Blurred together as a murder of black crows and grackles
Snow starts fiercely falling down from the clear night sky
Glow of red lights seen flashing onto the snow-white ground
Below the farm animals hide as songbirds scatter and fly
Hello, I hear as an alien creature appears outside and turns around
I see all this happening as I peer out through my window blind
Why is this alien creature here, it’s all surreal, like a bad nightmare?
Try to think clearly for my safety, as I may be in a dangerous bind
Spy carefully to see where the alien creature is, if it’s still out there
Unkind wind starts to pick up as the snow becomes a squall
Find my gun empty of bullets and my cell phone’s now dead
Mind racing with panic, is this real, or am I imagining this all?
Behind me I hear knocking on the door as I feel terror and dread
Crashing down quickly onto my kitchen floor as I try to hide
Flashing red lights go by brightly as they light up my room
Smashing my knee as I stumble when I hear a loud a crash outside
Dashing to the window now after hearing sirens and a loud boom
Then the police were at my door, asking me to come out
Men yelling in police and firemen uniforms putting out a fire
When I went out, they asked me what caused the burnt dugout
Again, fear gripped me, denying knowing as I began to perspire
Concealing seeing the alien from them I decided was best
Feeling exhausted later that night I decide go to bed
Reeling with anxiety and fear it was difficult to get rest
Screaming, when I saw the alien creature above my head!
Contest: Strand Select 11, Any form, any theme.
Sponsor: Brian Strand
This week our play at self-distancing and living amid a pandemic became real. Before the empty shelves and cancelled events were annoying but we had sufficient toilet paper to last a good while and there was Tiger King on Netflix. Then too the reduced traffic and cheap gas were unexpected bonuses although there was really no place to go.
But the news of the deaths at a nursing home in Ontario’s cottage country and the tweets this morning from people who were unable to be with loved ones as they died, and then faced with a ceremony less cremation or burial have brought the stark face of mortality too our doorsteps.
Meanwhile life goes on, it’s a beautiful sunny day outside and as I hung the laundry, grackles were busy building nests in the cedars and the first snowdrops and fall garlic were poking through the soil. The garden will need clearing this afternoon and life goes on while life goes on.
Be well and stay safe.
for Wake Me Up When September Ends Contest
Sponsor: Daniel Henry Rogers
They’re in conversation
with a crisp breeze as it sings
about the summer lost.
The proud sun colors skies gold
but shadows grow long.
not much is said
but they know
something’s changing
Once young, they cling
onto branches but know
one day they will take
their last breath and fall.
a song
about passing days
lingers in the air
Frantic calls of grackles
stir the air as they land
on branches before a swirl
of them cloud the sky.
the cacophony
interrupts
tranquility of the day
the passing sun whispers
and at dusk skies bleed
leaves surrender to time
Start with words
pick up their sticks
make a now-man.
No eyes yet,
maybe the garden grackles
will peck out some.
Life at this hour needs a password.
There are boxes to tick, negotiations
to be made
with an ill-defined self.
It's morning already
the sun is glaring blue
on the hard silent snow.
Going to need a key that perfectly fits
a gated community,
a playground, a parking lot, a dog park,
any door that opens
all those dark spaces hidden inside
unlit clouds,
and at this time
there are no further
instructions
available.
She notes how the days
have grown shorter.
A cacophony of grackles
near a cornfield fills the air.
A farmer across the road
walks along his field
checking his corn before harvest.
Leaves rustling
in the wind sing.
The construction crew
has passed her driveway.
She asks the flagger to
help her daughter across.
The school bus arrives
late afternoon. Lights flash
She rushes onto the porch
and hugs her daughter
who wears a backpack.
The mother notices
the sky is gold
as she looks out the window
and cooks supper on the stove.
Her daughter sits in a chair
hands folded on her lap.
So good to see her daughter
she thinks after letting go
in the morning and waiting
for a late afternoon embrace.