THE ROOST

All About Bird O'Prey

MY POETRY

A selection of poems by Bird O'Prey

The Neglected GardenThe Neglected Garden

We like Cherubim stand
with our feet planted
in the Neglected Garden,
our scorched swords
cold at our thighs,

but the gnarled roots
of Life can leech
no nutrients from the soil;
graying branches reach
to wilted leaves,

and Wisdom’s fruit
hang out to rot;
these spoiled apples
can tell us naught
of right or wrong.

Though it’s on
this sight we gaze,
some cannot see
past the rose hued haze
of cataract laden eyes

that our sky is gray,
and our Sun is dead;
our feet are planted
in this Neglected Garden
and the land cannot sustain us.

StarlingStarling

I am that Blakian tiger,
in a forest of the brightest stars
and I stalk, starving for you.

All these stars, so close
were once my fare, but pale
in comparison to you.

I cannot wait, but the stars
have all lost their luster
And I feel the pain inside
that you are out of my reach.

Come to me, my radiance,
my all encompassing fire,
scorch me with your love
so that I could never lose the sight of it.

My Desert RoseMy Desert Rose

I am stuck here
In this desert,
This ill thought,
This selfish love.
You’re not mine to have,
My desert rose,
You belong to another,
But I still feel
The pulse of your heart
In mine…

I wish for that cleansing storm,
For clouds to build
in the desert sky,
To wash away
This unclean love,
Like tender kisses
In the rain.

ConfinedConfined

Again I sit, my Diplomat in hand
And sew these lines apace in metered rhyme,
Into a corset fit for company,
To flatter talents too far short of prime.

I’ll work to make the daylight dim
Toward my stanzas full of warmth and light-
But where between margins so richly coifed,
May I find room to scream out in the night?

For pent up fury easier takes its course
To blow in shorter lines and freer verse.

I must tear these stylish wraps
from my meager,
distorted form
and wake these sleepers
from their nightly naps,
shaking my genitals lewdly in the air!

That is to say, if I had the time,
For with long hours of work for little pay,
I am too tired at night to rant and rave
And besides, what would the neighbors say?

Withering Dreams

Withering Dreams

I am withering.
My life seeps cold from my veins
to vanish as dreams.

Wallowing in the Ashes of Regret

Wallowing
in the Ashes of Regret

I spend a lot of my time
wondering why I feel
like I do
about life’s little things,
scrubbing at the dirt
until my hands are red
and blistered.

Crying over the ashes of the dead,
I always go over my life’s blunderings,
after,
when nothing can be done.

RelativityRelativity

Sometimes I have thoughts
to relive moments
in thoughts of you,
but they are fleeting
and lost in longing
and dismay.

I am still here today
thinking on our past
and dying inside.
What could I have done?
Could you?

But I am still here
and you are not;
a leaf flying in the breeze,
where will you land?

Or am I that leaf,
Caught in the draft of Fall,
Separated from our home.

If then, where will I go?

I guess it is all relative,
as Einstein said,
and I will fly my way,
and you will fly yours.

In Celebration...In Celebration...

It is time again for me to celebrate
the yearly anniversary of my birth,
only two days behind Old Hallow's Eve,
too near the month of cold December clouds.

And I awake this day remembering,
as I shiver from the morning cold,
I used to wait all year for this day
to be one year closer to a man.

But now that I have past that point it seems,
when I no longer desire this gain in years,
I am stuck here on this speeding train
and the years like landscape streaming past,

ever speeding to where death awaits,
like a tunnels black and gapping maw.

And I remember yesterday
I met a man two years my junior
with children and a wife
to keep him company.

And I, sole pilot of this speeding train,
know that I am running out of time…

It's hard to feel happy on this day
when now I feel cold and old, alone.

Self DeceptionSelf Deception

Sometimes,
the wind

…Look…

sings back
in broken whispers,

…blurred lines,
indefinite shadows…

like a thousand eyes
encased

…nothing more…

in shards of glass;
but forget yourself

…break through
to distraught focus…

and the words
draw back

…forming Idols
out of clouds…

to the random
movement of the air…

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