RESEARCHERS DIARY OF AMAZING BIRDS
I jealous the peacocks art
Colors, distinct and bright
Wiggle that feathery tail
Walls, align and act
Here lies the pretty dame
Haughty campaign and pranks
Kick on the silly game
Newborns, asleep, awaits
I cherish the Manakins dance
Steps, distinct and light
Move to the soundless beats
Lek, moonwalk and snap
Here sits the nosy judge
Finicky in taste and calm
So much is done for one
Practice indulged years long
I admire the great roadrunners treat
Date, distinct and right
Its either a splendid meal
Or he coos and wag his tail
Don't give up, she might agree
Together, we can forever be
Keep up the classic steel
Gentlemen, the ladies need
I love the superb lyrebirds voice
Songs, distinct and tight
When he grabs the microphone
Techno beats and 80’s Jazz
Beauties from far and wide
Spectate and vote for one
Talents coerced by zeal
Albums, that forever lives
I adore the western grebes ballet
Footworks, distinct and fast
Defying gravities pull
Walking on water Jew
Hydrodynamic lift
Feet slaps and splash
Lets go, it's me and you
Put on your dancing shoes
Red-Shift
Reddening thoughts
Cascading in the head
Honing a razors edge
A pounding sledge-
Lying still in thy bed
Primitively adopted
Red seems thy shade
Cowardly by ignorance
Forged for rigidity &
Entirely man made
Clenched teeth
Tightened features
Red-necked beneath
Delighted to meet ya!
Molten red-lava head
Deceptive perception
Prompting vile rhetoric
Even congressionally said
Red Shift!
Hasten thee departure
Please away from me
With your untruths &
All that hypocrisy
Only out to hurt ya
Red-Shift!
Lest it approach
All black & blue
With it’s
Opposing thumbs
Squeezing throats
Compassion drenched in
Their pissy crimson rain
A lobby of
Dark clouds
Over crowds
Up on The Hill
Where policies stain &
Nothing gets changed
So Red-Shift &
Good riddance
Banded
Blues & Independents
And away it goes!
In all it’s fury &
Savage throes
Let’em pray!
Red-Red-Red...
I say...
RED-RED-DEAD!
Patriotic colou
Eye to brain
Decoring allure
For the insane!
A loose tooth
Fast left hook jabbing truth
This ain’t no fuckin game...
Yeah...
Keep it Shifting Red...
Citizens of majority
No longer misled
Misleading you fool
This contrasted hue
Low-toned in full spectrum
Our metaphor ’gainst
Low turn out elections...
Rising mounting tsunami
In all it’s urgency
Back away servile knave
Progressively pave a
Path to every grave
Red-shifting ‘swamped’
Under surging Blue-Waves...
Left mocked as suckers?
And once called Commy
Reds?
Ha!
I laugh at you
In Red...
Are you the latest now-
-Swapping spit & fornicating
In this fascist’s bed?
Thundering Echoes of Silence
The gentleness of the rain does nothing to increase its warmth. The sky is leaden gray, and the gathering, though not large, is unnaturally quiet. The birds no longer sing in the trees, and the only sound is the pitter-patter of small cold raindrops, as they fall on black umbrellas and on the thin blue canvas stretched over the mound of dirt next to the hole.
One by one, single red roses are laid atop the little white casket. The rose petals are being stripped from the flowers by the rain, and as they tumble they leave thin red streaks down the sides of the tiny box that now holds a piece of my soul.
My heart now has a cavity that will never be filled, and I understand what real loss is, and a pain that no parent or grandparent should ever have to endure.
“The only thing harder to endure than the absence of your presence, is the enduring presence of your absence.”
-- Grandpa loves you little boy . . . forever.
found?
A girl with her head high
with control
over her world,
a girl with a path
a way carved out for her.
A girl who never wandered,
who never tasted the folds and wrinkles
of the world,
reserved for the invisible,
the lost.
A girl who knows
who she is
and where she's going,
a girl not the least bit lost
a girl I dream of being.
. . .but then again,
maybe not.
Grass Not Needed To Find One
Calm, yet bold.
Cautious, yet deadly.
One slithers,
one plans deceit.
One survives.
One never dies.
One forages for food,
one preys on innocence.
One can kill,
one ruins lives.
One adapts to natue,
one adapts to self-need.
One commits no human crime,
one is without human emotion.
Does one know the concept of love?
One laughs at its very concept.
One will one day die,
one lives on forever.
... and the one who slithers into your life,
... is the midnight madness of your mind.
Air
It determines the shape of clouds and of sand dunes. It decides how the windmills turn, where the blades of grass point. It disappears into open portals, finds its way to the other side. A thief that misplaces things, a mischief-maker that hides in ostensibly empty spaces.
The chill on your skin, the bounce in your hair. The path of a tumbleweed, and the music in bamboo shoots.
Breeze. Wind. Air.
#streamofconsciousness #prose #amwriting
Lizzi Potts
Lizzi Potts, I swear.
Lizzi Potts, I'm begging for air.
Lizzi Potts, they just stare.
Lizzi Potts, what is your game?
Lizzi Potts, such a name.
Lizzi Potts, you have the fame.
Lizzi Potts, I don't need to acclaim.
Lizzi Potts, I wish I could touch.
Lizzi Potts, I wish I could hold you in my clutch.
Lizzi Potts, you're the world,
but there is no need for much.
{tags: #LizziPotts
#beauty
#challenge }
Metamorphose
I sat and watched
the desolation of the night
evolve into the soft morning.
I turned my face to the sun
and saw the shadows
fall like sheets behind me.
The grimness of the past
was but one minute
in my cascading life.
The manner in which
I coped with the past
made the difference
and the tide turned,
the world didn’t end.
I left the bad tremors
in a heap
of nonchalance
and shucked
my caterpillar husk
allowing my
inner butterfly
to soar free into
the pink clouds
of grace.
Death Call of Crows
Black crows ceased listening
to songs without truth,
which hung for too long
on clothesline of despair
beyond feathered reach,
hidden among bruises
of empty caws.
Death rattle stilled
crows’ faltering hearts
on barren branches.
Penetrating dagger
slew hollow bony chest
as they moaned
and stared
at bottomless destiny.
Beaks grabbed fistfuls of
shattered pieces
and ran parallel
to lightning strikes
beyond dark grasp.
Birds broke
empty death silence
to be heard
above the call
of dying mates.
Tears glistened
on stitched faces
as crows turned backs
on tainted life,
fleeing toward
refuge of
harboring moon.
#Challenge #MurderOfCrows #EmptyDeathSilence