Long The crane Poems
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Little Blue Bird of rain.
Rain, rain go away
Little Blue Bird of Rain, needs to shine again
In her version the sun dried, up all her tears
Leaving hurtful rain inside the bird
Destructive past sudden cheers
Waking up to empty words
When abandoned by her peers
Just not knowing what had just occurred
Drowning herself in a life of Jane Doe.
Never know who she really is
When all she loves hanging her lowest moment
The rain brought out Mary-Jane.
As the bird lost its glow.
The rain tricked her once to use Cocaine.
As her feathers met that one Joe.
He broke her wing and brought more Rain.
Very young, very sweet.
Living her life in the fast lane.
Hard for her to stand on her feet.
Balanced her life on one leg, like the crane.
Curtains hang over her wings.
While she let no one near her domain.
While she flies through the heavy rain.
She finds her comfort with a pen.
Using the lords name in vain.
Cursing all her backstabbing friends
With no one around to explain?
All the sorrow left her on a railroad track.
Ending up like the runaway train.
Only she can get her life back.
If for myself I ever felt pain?
I felt more pain at what she wrote about.
In my face on my left side
Your poetry comes to life in my head.
Visions of her wanting to be dead.
Oh! How I wish this life she did not dread.
You hide the tears you shed so well.
A life with balls you cut the chains.
You diss, Your parents to go to hell.
Little Blue Bird of Rain, don't let them fools drive you insane.
Little Blue Bird of Rain.
If a sparrow could show you,
There is more to life than pain.
Under the umbrella, the sparrow would cover you.
No one wants to see her colors drain.
What a world to master her feathers into art.
The gift of words runs through her vein
The paintings on her wall.
A dream of a bad seed of grain.
One day our Little Blue Bird will stand tall.
To free herself from all the Rain.
To: Rain aka- Joy Loveless
Our sweet 16-year-old
P.D. 1-1-10
Not advertising that flippant flick. I just want to know
where my blooming flivver is. It ruffles my feathers no
end to find out, when exiting the embassy,
that my buggy's whereabouts are a mystery.
I must meet Sherry 'cause her right toe
wants a sweet kiss. Did the camel tow
my car? That blasted mammal! Sherry's dear
foot can't wait! Please do not tell me the deer
took my buggy! That son of a Witch
would fine
me with a very pricey mulct which
isn't fine!
Not another loathsome tax
to put up with! Oh no, Lord, please!
I beg thou hearken to my pleas!
Now, let's come down to tin tacks.
I need my bloody car! A choice bass
cooked by Sherry awaits me. The crass
specimen who's got my car is so base,
and I'm so cross! The camel has a bass
voice that creeps me out! I do not want to
deal with him. I cannot even stomach two
secs the sight of the deer. He's ugly too.
II.
On returning to his flat, mad as a goat,
Ivo found on the door, the following note:
Dear Ivo,
I hereby inform you that your awfully and
illegally parked streetcar has been impounded.
Come pick it up at the City Hall and
bring cash with you for there's a fine. 8 hundred
clams.
Much love,
The Crane from Ukraine.
Blimey! That heartless crane! I won't give her a buck!
Now I know the ruffians weren't the camel and the buck.
Well, let's be fair, it wouldn't be cricket to pass the buck.
I didn't park properly. It's my fault. That's it. I will not buck
at the fine.
III.
I got my car back for free. How? l told the crane;
"I'm in a hurry to meet Sherry who needs me to canoodle
her feet. I'll have tonight for dinner a bass fish with noodles."
"If a foot massage like the ones I used to get in Ukraine.
you give me, I will be happy to call off the mulct." said she.
I pleased her feet very much. She loved it. Then we got some tea.
IV.
I'm on my way home to eat some bass,
with my beloved and awesome lass.
It's so nice to be able to dine
without having paid that gruesome fine.
I feel I must put this experience out there.
This took place about ten years ago in my room while meditating.
(Whilst in a trance-like state) I looked up facing the sunrise through a great trilithon, I was at Stonehenge. As I walked through the huge trilithon, I turned my head back to see a great Owl perched on top of the archway I just came through. Which I found quite odd, considering that I have no affiliation with them. Then turning back to the right of me I could see my spirit Wolf pacing nervously outside another great trilithon staring directly at me.
Turning now to the near centre, a hooded black cloaked figure appeared to emerge from a green fire in the centre.
All I could see of his face was his old grey chin. But what happened next astounded me. Telepathically, I spoke directly into his mind saying, "what do you want?" He laughed replying, (into my head) "is not the question what do you want?" Then I laughed saying, "I want to be the best Shaman I can be." With that, he drew up his right arm, palm down holding something. So I, in turn, placed out my right-hand palm up and he placed a little leather pouch in it. systematically, I raised my hand up to my heart and the bag went in. I thanked him and turned around and left. Never did catch his name or meet him again. But I now carry the Crane-Bag.
Update: since this experience, I have recently developed AF, (atrial fibrillation) so make of that what you will. But I still maintain that my heart is good.
Also, found out later that The green Flame is the Flame of balance and Truth. It leads to analysis and development of ideas, especially Divine ideas and impulses that have been conceived in the First Ray of the Blue Flame. Those ideas ultimately and inevitably produce wisdom and light.
Second update: funny, now after an ablation my heart is fine.
Now I know for sure that he was looking out for me.
With ancient mysteries you come
In your full light, hearts you do strum
Amid rituals some succumb
To your heartbeat played on a drum
Your names do change meanings for some
January wolf howls a thrum
Eerily call family hum
Never knowing where you come from
February called snow, not glum
Low skies of grey make you feel numb
Through parting cloud the sight of you
Enraptured skies charm overdue
To bring the sugar moon, March knew
Of winter storms try to subdue
Sweetness of spring to see us through
Pink moon of April aptly grew
The phlox carpet gardens imbue
Your fullness we must bid adieu
To greet flower, Mays name you flew
Rich scents of delights we accrue
Dancing petals arrive with rain
To kiss June’s strawberry rose mane
We bless your fullness to contain
The longest day on the years’ skein
We see your glow with pink champagne
July’s new buck is born to reign
The month wants thunder to abstain
And flies the crane and grows the grain
It’s summer warmth we do obtain
Abounds the August fruit sustain
Blue sky playground sings lullaby
Encircle your name with fresh pie
And rejoice a sturgeon fish fry
The sun your husband and ally
Bless fields with magic we apply
September named for harvest cry
To reap the grounds which we rely
Full moon’s help is always near by
As sanguine October does sigh
The hunter comes to say goodbye
The richness of fall our income
Before November mourning plum
Last moon before Solstice voodoo
We rejoice hours longer renew
With friends and family we deign
Our humble Thanksgiving is plain
To December’s moon a cold eye
Give frankincense gifts to comply
Each months’ full bounty a named moon
Complete in her wonder I swoon
written: 10-16-2019
For: LUDix-Rym contest
used rhyme-zone
and Poetry Soup syllable counter
I know the Bear.
watcher, courage
unpredict(ability)
I know the Snake.
wisdom of initiation
I know the Wolf.
I know a pack of 'em.
loyalty, intuition
I know the Spider,
though I pretend
I don't.
shadows, communication
I know the Owl,
or, I pretend
I do.
insight, clairvoyance
I even know the Fox.
(I may be the Fox.)
cunning, hidden
messenger
I know the Bobcat, the Alligator.
patience, revenge
and other far-off
Beings, lost to this
space, but not lost
on me, not lost to me.
I know the Bat.
secrets, longevity
I know the Cougar.
So well that I call her,
not by her first name but,
the First Peoples' names:
I call her Catamount/Painter/Puma/
I call her Panther/Mountain Screamer/
I call her Amigo da Onça
foresight, leadership
silence, patience
I know the Coyote, the Crane.
ingenuity and folly; vigilance and independence
I know the Heron, the Lynx.
self-reliance, balance
guardian, listener, guide
And each of these,
each Medicine
each is prayed for
and each preys on
each arrives from
some inchoate world
(land? sky?)
beyond all sight.
An answered wish,
a plea,
a demand.
And each, a predator.
One who wrings life
from flesh
that it might deliver its
song, its dance of Medicine
to one so foolish as
me.
and yet the Hawk,
I see today,
though predator,
is the Medicine of
Solitude.
Near enough,
Far enough.
Alone enough,
apart enough.
a lone Alone.
Hawk
Arc
Lofted.
Lifted.
Hawk.
Medicine.
Alone among...
Denadagohvyu
The finch dances merry, weaving feathers into music
That spills from overeager beaks and drips light onto slick wings
Which beat in time with the song, fluttering, flittering,
Finding life in the sky and where the ground meets it, turning,
Twisting note to the bright forgetful where the now is all
And the past does not exist.
Must it be so wonderful? To let go
And float up on thermals over sunset summer parking lots
And the people in them, looking up, or down, or anywhere
Except each other, but freedom tastes not-sweet and all encompassing, like
Air, like blood, like the gooseflesh on your arms when that wind catches
And whispers asking to play in words no one can repeat.
How terrible must it be, to be afraid of the fall?
Because I am not afraid of endings, little bird, and you and I
Will fall forever up until we reach the sky,
And when it ends I will be glad to have been there for the beginning of it.
Why fear failing, why fear falling, when the ground will always catch you?
And as the crane jumps on stick feet to the unawareness of dinosaurs,
I too forget waking up.
How terrible it must be to fear falling asleep!
Because the sky is blue, my dear, and there is no greater honor
Than being a part of that hue someday—
People slave over paper and skin and lightning in metal
Sparking over clumsy fingers meant for braiding grass.
The small bird laughs and flees from the hawk, the raptor,
Watching rapturously the give and take of prey
And the forgiveness of both sides.
How terrible it must be to be afraid of endings, finch,
And to be aware of them!
But I refuse to mourn myself, and so when I fall,
I will be glad to have flown at all.
The calls of the flocks to this years migration
a roving community of birds in each nation
rising and diving above mists in the rocks
the drawing together for birthing new flocks
The coo of the crane in a wetland bog
the bob of its head when its nabbed a frog
opened winged geese in passages soar
north back to south or a western shore
Above our earth the traversing vast miles
into the snowfall or cliffside defiles
a race upon water to lure this years mate
or share in the catch a dance woven like date
Such grace of movement their wings on the breeze
like rhythms beating to ascend above trees
how can one capture such beauty so grand
of a creatures decent upon sky upon land
Motion so elegant their journey's in sky
mankinds observations our own desire to fly
the form of their pinions upon outstreched wings
to follow freedom this kind of life dreams
Lowlands or Highlands the wild fowl domains
in deserts or plateaus aviary terrains
on pole ice or islands you'll find their rests
every year you'll find them their community nests
COPYRIGHT © 2012 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Be of good cheer
Global Warming
Forever here
Touching the ground
Sea Waters a rising all around
Don't look back
As your Neighborhood begins to crack
Mother Nature is drowning
We cannot escape that inevitable fact
Someone so fair
likes to burn your children's hair
he can't help but laugh
At the damage being done down there
Paulie wants a cracker
before flying away ever after
and then the crane will start storming
unleashing the hail of global warming
Form:
I’m criminally insane, I’ve got a lot on my brain, my life's down the drain, and I’m riding a train. The ghost has been slain, I’m using a cane, to walk on this gravel and escape from the crane. The world is corrupt, and thrown into Bane, I’ve taken more walks, down memory lane, than I care to admit, it’s left such a stain, nothing to lose, and so much to gain. I jump from the plane, I’m wrapped in a chain, I wish I could train, but life is so plain. I walk between rain, I have so much pain, I’m so far from sane, my life is so small, as small as a grain. If I told you, that life was dark, I was born in the world, so I could leave a mark, I have soulless eyes, but not like a shark, I’ve been driving for years and still nowhere to park. What if I said, that life was scary? If fantasy is real, then it shows up rarely, I don't care about cheese, but I do love the dairy, there is no smooth ride, when life is so hairy. The end of the world, is coming near, I have to admit, that the future is clear, I reek of essence, the essence of fear, I’ve been driving so long, I forgot how to steer. I’ve been trapped, in this place, I can’t defend, my mental case, for years to come, a lonely face, it’s time to be done, and finish the race.
im criminally insane, ive got alot on my brain, my life's down the drain, and im riding a train. the ghost has been slain, im using a cane, to walk on this gravel, and escape from the crane. the world is corrupt, and thrown into bane, ive taken more walks, down memory lane, than i care to admit, its left such a stain, nothing to lose, and so much to gain. i jump out the plane, im wrapped in a chain, i wish i could train, but life is so plain. i walk between rain, i have so much pain, im so far from sane, my life is so small, as small as a grain. if i told you, that life was dark, i was born in the world, so i could leave a mark, i have soulless eyes, but not like a shark, ive been driving for years and still nowhere to park. what if i said, that life was scary? if fantasy is real, then im no fairy, i don't care about cheese, but i do love the dairy, there is no smooth ride, when life is so hairy. the end of the world, is coming near, i have to admit, that the future is clear, i reek of essence, the essence of fear, ive been driving so long, i forgot how to steer. ive been trapped, in this place, i cant defend, my mental case, for years to come, a lonely face, its time to be done, and finish the race.