Wednesday, April 8, 2015

The Birder

I fell out of love with myself--
I was cruel, I admit it.
I said things, things I'm not proud of,
and had no mercy, no care for what I did.

All the birds I am made from--
my own distinct darlings and devils--
elude illustration,
cataloging,
and most particularly, shotguns.

This happens, from time to time--
this disenchantment, this anger, this flocking out on the ledge.
Loud noises ruin everything,
and when I am feeling this way,
I am a cacophony.

See how clever you are.
See how my birds come to you, in winter
in summer, in distress and in droves,
saying "She is gone mad again, and we cannot reckon anymore."
See how you shush and shelter them,
my storm orphans.

Here is the curved sky,
the similar earth below;
here is the birdhouse with its precise holes for entry,
and its green shingled roof for keeping out.

You asked me for a bird, tonight, knowing I wouldn't refuse.
You brought no cage, no tether.
How quiet it got, so that all there was to hear was feathers
as I flew back into myself and became this poem,

the one you saved,
the one I wrote in birdsong for you.
______

for Every Day I Write The Book at Real Toads. 

 

20 comments:

Sanaa Rizvi said...

Whoa... thats alot of fire you got there inside of you! Poem is written so passionately.. it evokes a sense of awe and wonder! Really enjoyed your poem :D
xoxo

www.adashofsunny.com

TexWisGirl said...

i loved this line: when I am feeling this way,
I am a cacophony.

Debi Swim said...

How quiet it got, so that all there was to hear was feathers
as I flew back into myself and became this poem,
the one you saved,
the one I wrote in birdsong for you...
Oh, my, goodness... this takes my breath away

Susie Clevenger said...

Yeah, I love this! That second verse is my favorite.

cosmos cami said...

Today (according to someone) is Draw a Picture of a Bird day. I'm not kidding!
I looked it up 5 minutes ago for my daughter and then I read your poem. Here you've drawn a bird with words and an amazing self-portrait of yourself and of the Artist/Poet/Creator in all of us.
I Loved this!
I can't resist clicking on a Fireblossom link!

Helen said...

Turning in early tonight, alarm set for 4:00am ~~ last poem of the day, and it is a humdinger!!

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

I just love it; so gracefully written.

Ella said...

I love your ending~ It haunts and I imagine I now need a crow baby-after reading you and Hannah!!

grapeling said...

Shay, this ... brought tears. ~

Kerry O'Connor said...

This is beautiful. The self-confession strengthens the power of the love you describe - of one who loves another despite her difficult temperament, or because of it.

One of your best.

ccchampagne said...

There's almost too much in this for me... For a load of reason. But it is deeply touching and I can relate (which is why it's almost too much). I wonder if you wrote it to read the way I read it? *smile* Beautiful!

Marian said...

Ah, so lovely. Glad that bird outflies the shotguns, for sure. Birdshot? Love, love the notion of writing in birdsong.

hedgewitch said...

To be made of birds is certainly not unalloyed joy--the twittering, the pecking, and the hectic and constant movement--yet they are made of grace, color, life, song and flight as well, and I wonder who benefits more here, birds or keeper? Your first two stanzas are especially exquisite, (sharp and witty as well)-a beautiful, flying, strong poem, Shay.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Oh my God, this is beautiful. Yes, one of your best, one of my favorites. I love the birds within, the "flocking out on the edge", love "she has gone mad again", as we do we do from time to time, love the "storm orphans". Such gorgeous lines, such a beautiful resolution at the ending/beginning: "the one I wrote in birdsong for you." Sigh. If I didnt read another thing, this poem would have been enough.

Mama Zen said...

Oh, this is stunning!

Buddah Moskowitz said...

Such a beautiful, fine-feathered world you've made here. Birds are magical in that they can fly - and I think you are magical and I sense you can fly too. Tweet tweet la la. - Mosk

Linda G Hatton said...

I am glad I came to visit and found this poem. So beautiful. I love it.

Olivia Jade said...

Gorgeous.

I love the poem and the picture in equal measure.

"I fell out of love with myself--
I was cruel, I admit it."

"All the birds I am made from--
my own distinct darlings and devils--"

"this disenchantment, this anger, this flocking out on the ledge."

"I am a cacophony."

"my storm orphans"

"here is the birdhouse with its precise holes for entry"

"You brought no cage, no tether.
How quiet it got, so that all there was to hear was feathers
as I flew back into myself and became this poem"

These are the sections I'm most drawn to.

Sara said...

Oh, man...this one is truly one of favorites. I loved everything in it. We all need people who know how to quiet the birds inside us. But I have to admit the last three lines just made me sigh. I mean it...it was loud enough for Aggie to meow at me...then again, I was reading a poem about birds:~)

my heart's love songs said...

one of your best, SP! truly magnificent!