Oh, my sweet parakeet, Cheesesteak,
I cannot bear to see you in this state -
your beautiful black and white feathers
all ruffled, no more to ever flutter;
your cold dead bruised body left here mercilessly
ravaged by the claws of my black cat, Stella -
Stella, the stealthy predator
who already massacred other birds of mine.
Who can fathom the mind of a cat
whose soft fur and purr are so precious,
yet whose attacks on innocent creatures
are so ruthless?
Such a strange and awful paradox it is -
that sweetness can display such savagery.
Dear Cheesesteak, your singing still
reverberates inside my mind.
My darling bird, who never harmed another,
nothing can I do
but bury you and say a little prayer
that you are safe in the rainbow realm
where all good pets go.
Sing, Cheesesteak, sing.
And fly with your pretty little wings
among the heaven’s clouds.
One day again, I’ll be seeing you.
She dropped from the morning’s quiet,
a flash of white, a small gasp of wings.
No song followed her fall,
only the dull sound of mercy closing.
The cat crouched still in the doorway,
eyes wide as if she’d seen
the cost of being wild.
Even she seemed to grieve a little.
I held the bird in my hands…
light as breath, soft as an old prayer.
The air itself stopped moving.
Love leaves marks we can’t see,
wounds that shimmer beneath the skin.
Yet love keeps our trembling hearts from leaving.
I laid her down beneath the lemon tree,
covered her with the gentlest earth.
A feather caught in the wind,
rose once - then vanished.
UNEXPECTED GUEST
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Though unexpected, he arrived,
a flash of color,
a feathery creature, divine.
I asked not for him,
this vibrant surprise,
dancing on the edges of my reality.
I asked not for him,
this vibrant surprise,
yet there he was, a living brushstroke.
I asked not for him,
this vibrant surprise,
nudging me to seek the unexpected.
I asked not for him,
this vibrant surprise,
expressing beauty in the mundane.
I asked him not to leave,
this vibrant surprise,
but he took flight,
leaving traces of magic in the air.
A parakeet is a talking bird
He’ll repeat whatever you say
Which, depending on your mood
Can make or break your day
The monk parakeet, decked out in lime green,
In communal nests they can oft be seen.
To raise kids, they don't depend on granny.
Instead, they hire a helper or nanny.
I have a parakeet, named Pintu,
She's so dear to me. I got her this year
As a birthday gift from my mom and dad.
She's the cutest pet I've ever had.
Her colour is green and I've never seen,
Such a pretty bird, noisy and funny.
Early in the morning, every day,
She'd say, 'Good morning', as I still lay
In my cozy bed, lazy to wake up.
From the school as soon as I'm back,
She welcomes me with her 'Good evening',
And I'd give Pintu her favorite snack.
Then its playtime, the hide-and-seek time,
We hide behind the curtain, one side each.
I pop my head out when she hides,
She pops out her head when I hide.
Soon she'd come out and perch on my neck,
"Peek-a-boo," she'd say, giving me a peck.
Aww what a playful pet my Pintu is!
Date: 02/27/2023
Nursery Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Eve Roper
A parakeet green that I named Eugene
and early in the mornings he will stir
chirping and flapping his wings in a blur.
It is quite a wild energetic scene . . .
I swear, I do not give Eugene caffeine
from this bird- I needed a silencer !
A parakeet green . . .
Lively and bouncy like a jumping bean
I cannot, his spirited joy- deter
and I am for sure no bird whisperer . . .
He gives kisses- and a love unforeseen!
A parakeet green . . .
_______________________
October 14, 2022
Poetry/Rondine/other/A Parakeet Green
Copyright Protected, ID 10-1494-335-14
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Rousing Rondine
sponsor, Jeff Kyser, Judged 11/21/2022
Third Place
They call her parakeet girl.
If you can get past that, you will have a lot in common.
She came into the restaurant wearing her friends.
They were all over her head, one kept pecking a kiss on her face.
Are you parakeet girl? He asked her.
Are you psychic? She replied.
Come, my love, let's unfetter and glide high,
Your hues leave me breathless, to feel your breath I long;
My dreamy dotted wings, with you, yearns to fly,
And to chirrup in tune with your lilting love song.
Your hues leave me breathless, to feel your breath I long,
As I creep up on you and kiss you sweetheart;
And to chirrup in tune with your lilting love song,
I crave to be caged forever in your heart.
As I creep up on you and kiss you sweetheart,
My dreamy dotted wings, with you, yearns to fly;
I crave to be caged forever in your heart,
Come, my love, let's unfetter and glide high.
Date: 06/07/2021
Pantoum Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Number of the photo: 2
“I Do! I DO! I Do!” delight at the actuality of marrying
my grandmother. Did she soar, as I do at the retelling?
I don’t know. But I do know when cancer took his bride,
he was not far behind, never again sleeping in their bed,
hearing her voice, like an angel’s voice. He didn’t do
without her, her wings tapping at the window’s periphery.
Surely at the pearly gates, first the reunion of his fate,
then his “I do’s,” illuminate, ruminate, and soar, landing
at the feet of his lovely parakeet, who flies for his pleasure.
12/29/2020
*I chose the bird my grandmother
kept as a pet in her kitchen.
tiny weight of grandma’s parakeet
on my finger
spider leg toes
bones enclosed in skin
the curved pins the claws
that grip my finger
balancing its wiry weight
of beak and wings
the feathered fan of tail
compacted
pulling downward
balances the body full of webs of bones
like veins inside my eye
delicate bones
like grandma herself
thin and fragile
with holy hair
thick and white
it fans like feathers
in my dreams
A hole was dug, Kenny was placed in a small box
Tears trickled down,
down,
down
Only six months of life
He would stand on our shoulder, preen our hair,
fly around the room
Then at night he would go into his cage, locked away, covered
One morning there he lay upon the floor of the cage
gone forever from our presence
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