Perched on top the telephone
pole, a cavity carved out there,
a family of Woodpeckers lives
on Prosperity Lane, a lightly
traveled country road. Here
one is blessed to see
black and white patterns
against a blue sky as these
birds fly between poles and
tree limbs in the delight of
an April breeze.
Their call is something akin to
a chuckle, a childish delight,
for surely they own this lovely
green land, lawn stretching
far out, dotted with dandelions
and blackberry vines.
On any given day one who walks
this county lane can hear the
drumming of these clever birds,
living alongside the Mountain
Bluebird, Quail and Wild Turkey.
They drum to annonce their
territorial claim.
As in Gold Rush days these birds
have their golden reward of
acorns which they bury in pantries
of trees, poles and fallen logs.
Once again, the drilling is heard
as we walk through these Northern
California woods. Look closely
at the Ponderosa Pine. You will
find it studded with acorns. The
Acorn Woodpecker, ever industrious,
is satisfied that his is the best
of all worlds.
"The earth has music for those who listen."
- George Santayana.
....................................................
The rhythm on tree backs from woodpeckers' knocks,
With rustling of leaves as the trees moan in winds,
The roar of the falls down the hills thrills the flocks,
The whistling of gusts through the space in our minds...
Nature conducts its melody soft yet grand.
Written for the contest: Write Five Beautiful Lines
Contest Judged: 3/14/2025 9:53:00 PM
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Placement: 2nd
when out birding, woodpeckers are one of my favorite finds
in Kentucky, where i live there are seven different kinds
the smallest is the Downy and they seem to like my suet feeders best
I always see them in a pair so I hope nearby is their nest
next we have the Hairy and its just bigger by a bit
in the evenings they seem most active so I like to go outside and sit
a Red Bellied woodpecker visits one of my trees each day
I am pretty sure when I hear its call it asking me to play
Northern Flickers have speckles and a black patch on its chest
Its feathers are mostly brown, and not black and white like the rest
Yellow Bellied Sapsucker is my favorite one to say
I spotted my very first one in a field of flowers on a hot summer day
the Pileated is the largest and loudest and a majestic one to see
they like to make their nests in the cavity of a large dead tree
the last is the wood-cockaded that I have yet to spot
its rare and likes pine forests but I will give it my best shot
The stench of puerile self-aggrandizement wafts through the air, a noxious cloud of platitudes and pomp, as the pusillanimous pustules of pseudo-intellectualism congregate to lavish accolades upon one another. How... amusing. The notion that these self-absorbed aesthetes, ye armchair sybarites, consider themselves arbiters of taste and talent, is nothing short of grotesque. And yet, here it persists, leeches on the cadavers of real artistry, perpetuating a vicious cycle of backslapping mediocrity, as they vomit forth oozing saccharine, cliche-ridden tripe, and elevate it to the status of holy scripture. Quaint indeed. The stench of their ignominy is almost... palpable.
How does it feel to know that playing by the rules was your downfall, I said I would be the last poetess standing because I can do: abattoir hymns of crimson vortices shredding the children to rain sanguinary as viscera chunks hail from above. Sorry ai can’t touch me, it would freak out to even read that. I may not have won many contests, but oops. Hehe.
pinpoint is its strike
persistent is the attack
target mind and heart
Soon after winter has begun,
when Earth is closest to the sun,
short days lengthen one by one.
Then, through my window’s frosted glaze,
life in God’s garden holds my gaze --
blooms of colors burst ablaze!
Jasmine yellows, hellebore pinks,
beautyberry purple-pale inks,
Blue Jay in the bird bath drinks.
Woodpeckers at the suet feed,
a hungry fawn hopes for some seed,
wishing winter would recede.
January 20, 2021
Attention to Detail Poetry Contest -- NA
Sponsored by Rob Levasseur
Do you think woodpeckers ever get headaches
Apparently, their skulls are separated from their beaks
They peck 20 times a second
Us guys would explode I reckon
Also, their tongues wrap around their brains, that freaks
Please, tell me why . . . woodpeckers,
Suddenly appear,
Every time, I am near,
Simply said,
They like to peck,
On my head.
On the day that I was born,
The angels got together,
And decided that a dream would never do,
So they sprinkled sardines on my head,
And some roses that are really dead,
And a sleeping bag,
With Bean and Onslow too.
That is why, all the birds in town,
Peck my head, up and down,
Just like that,
I need a hat,
How about,
You?
Do you think woodpeckers ever get headaches
Apparently, their skulls are separated from their beaks
They peck 20 times a second
Us guys would explode I reckon
Also, their tongues wrap around their brains, that's freaky
Woodpeckers etch names
Leave their marks on great big world
Wood decays away.
(January 14, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin)
(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved
a fallen pine log:
red-cockaded woodpeckers
taps their lost fair well
****The Red-cockaded Woodpecker has less than 1% of its original population. They make their home in mature pine forests, preferably long leaf pine, which have been drastically reduced due to disease and harvesting. While other woodpeckers bore out cavities in dead trees where the wood is rotten and soft, the Red-cockaded Woodpecker is the only one which excavates cavities exclusively in living pine trees. They play a key role in their ecosystem. A number of other birds and small mammals use the cavities excavated by Red-cockaded Woodpeckers, such as chickadees, bluebirds, titmice, and several other woodpecker species, reptiles, and insects. Florida, my home, is one of the remaining southern states they are still found in. Steps are being taken to protect and recreate their nesting grounds***********
"If only, if only," the woodpeckers sigh,
"The stars in the heavens would light up the sky.
"If I could just bring
the mountains down low,
Those landforms up high,
Where my trees would grow.
"The drums, cease to roll,
The armor, to rust!
Their hatred to flowers,
Their swords into dust.
"If only, if only," the woodpeckers cry,
"Our homes had a place way up in the sky.
"But now that we've gone,
We're extinct, put away,
We all rest in peace,
And now you must pay."
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