Winter Feeding
January.
Sitting at peace, content
peering through french doors
ignoring my reflection.
Birds ignore me
Three bird feeders
catching the rhythm
swing on pollarded remains
of autumn’s last chop
A trinity of reserve,
hope for this winter
One, a basket of suet
to clothe fragile bones
Two, a station of black sunflower seeds;
oil for joints and aerial locomotion
Three, a tower of seeds with ports of call
for almost one and all, almost
Visitors aplenty passing through
jostle for life on invisible stairs
Alpha male sparrow sporting cravat
barging into tiniest gaps, scattering seeds
unaware of his bounty
to those below
Elegant greenfinch, tubby blue tit, corporal chaffinch
deploying beaks in short sharp attacks
on suet, seed, nut
House sparrows
helicopter in
with flying school precision
A duck, a dart, a weave
of near misses
as a great tit fails
to master the art
of bilocation
while pushy Robin flicks his tail with affectation
Aloft, a magpie’s crackling announcement
introduces her handsome cousin:
Jay (kingfisher blue tuxedo)
floats to the catwalk
struts his stuff
and is gone
Courting collared doves meander
in pairs through priapic shoots
delicately picking
at the entree between
Food to stand in stead
against chills that take no prisoner
A wren peeps from the blackness below
waiting her turn, weighing the odds, wavering
vanishes.
Poem #15
The first strophe I thought was quite impressive. The image of the "voice" ignoring its own reflection to the indifference of the feeding birds was interesting. Despite this praise, the line breaks could use some improvement and interest.
I believe that this poem came closest to reaching the levels of clarity that I value. Most of the images are "shown" not "told." I would advice submitting this to a poetry site that had more expert critics for some suggestions to improve it.
Over all very well done.
Joe
I believe that this poem came closest to reaching the levels of clarity that I value. Most of the images are "shown" not "told." I would advice submitting this to a poetry site that had more expert critics for some suggestions to improve it.
Over all very well done.
Joe
"Say a prayer for the cowboy..."
The attention to detail in this poem is well done. The social aspect of these different birds is so aptly described. The playful language adds to the activity taking place.
I have but one complaint: DUCK
"A duck, a dart...."
Tossing in that fowl-word stopped me in my bird tracks. Maybe 'dip' or somesuch would be a better choice. But then again, maybe i am too easily confused.
Beautiful poem!
L
I have but one complaint: DUCK
"A duck, a dart...."
Tossing in that fowl-word stopped me in my bird tracks. Maybe 'dip' or somesuch would be a better choice. But then again, maybe i am too easily confused.
Beautiful poem!
L
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Byron
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I have been in Agadir for a week and we only saw the results of the competition as we were busily packing our suitcases before leaving for the airport.
Of the poems entered I have to say that 'Winter Promise' is my favourite. When I first read it my initial thought was, "I wish I'd written that." So, Pete, it seems that Liz and I share something of the poet in you. Your #6 next to my #15.
I am delighted to be able to thank jo and linda for all the time, hard work, effort and patience they brought to this latest competition.
laurie, I used 'duck' because.......
The great tit didn't dip, dart and weave. It was aggressively acting like a boxer, by ducking left and right, darting forward and then weaving around those invisible twigs. All done at the great speed that fighters in a boxing ring display. The act of ducking has more tension in its appearance here than a play on the word itself. Once you speak the words, duck, dart and weave, you may find that your shoulders actually hunch up and get tighter, just like a boxer's.
As for the content and inspiration, I had taken a break from cleaning up after Albert (again) and sat in my wing chair and wrote down the 'theatre' that was being played out on the other side of our french doors.
Of the poems entered I have to say that 'Winter Promise' is my favourite. When I first read it my initial thought was, "I wish I'd written that." So, Pete, it seems that Liz and I share something of the poet in you. Your #6 next to my #15.
I am delighted to be able to thank jo and linda for all the time, hard work, effort and patience they brought to this latest competition.
laurie, I used 'duck' because.......
The great tit didn't dip, dart and weave. It was aggressively acting like a boxer, by ducking left and right, darting forward and then weaving around those invisible twigs. All done at the great speed that fighters in a boxing ring display. The act of ducking has more tension in its appearance here than a play on the word itself. Once you speak the words, duck, dart and weave, you may find that your shoulders actually hunch up and get tighter, just like a boxer's.
As for the content and inspiration, I had taken a break from cleaning up after Albert (again) and sat in my wing chair and wrote down the 'theatre' that was being played out on the other side of our french doors.
"Bipolar is a roller-coaster ride without a seat belt. One day you're flying with the fireworks; for the next month you're being scraped off the trolley" I said that.
Dear Byron-
i had been wondering when the 'poemer' of this would come forth
What a great poem!
I am sort of repeating myself, but geez when i read " a duck" i'm thinking, "how the hell did a duck get in with all these bird!?!" It really threw me!
Thanks for your explanation, but i will never get over my moment of temporary stupidity when seeing that line
I don't have near the variety of eaters you do. During the summer, i have got the bravers Steller's Jays eating peanuts out of my hand. But right now the only brave souls in my yard are dark eyed juncos and chestnut chickadees dining on sunflower seeds.
While in birdy-mode...a few years back i stood on my deck and hand held my hummingbird feeder, putting my fingers near where the plastic nectar feeding flowers were. In a short time, a couple of hummers came along and --sat on my fingers while feeding--- it was amazing (we have the rufus hummers up here).
Lovely poem! Congrats.
L
i had been wondering when the 'poemer' of this would come forth
What a great poem!
I am sort of repeating myself, but geez when i read " a duck" i'm thinking, "how the hell did a duck get in with all these bird!?!" It really threw me!
Thanks for your explanation, but i will never get over my moment of temporary stupidity when seeing that line
I don't have near the variety of eaters you do. During the summer, i have got the bravers Steller's Jays eating peanuts out of my hand. But right now the only brave souls in my yard are dark eyed juncos and chestnut chickadees dining on sunflower seeds.
While in birdy-mode...a few years back i stood on my deck and hand held my hummingbird feeder, putting my fingers near where the plastic nectar feeding flowers were. In a short time, a couple of hummers came along and --sat on my fingers while feeding--- it was amazing (we have the rufus hummers up here).
Lovely poem! Congrats.
L
ex LCJ rules!
so going to Agadir was your way to escape seeing me on BBC Breakfast, smart move! I was as wooden as a post (not this post in particular) but compared to my last proper appearance on TV that was an improvement, believe me!
one interesting discovery on the couch however, Dermot Moynathingy is more attractive than Natasha Kathingy!
so going to Agadir was your way to escape seeing me on BBC Breakfast, smart move! I was as wooden as a post (not this post in particular) but compared to my last proper appearance on TV that was an improvement, believe me!
one interesting discovery on the couch however, Dermot Moynathingy is more attractive than Natasha Kathingy!
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Byron
- Posts: 3171
- Joined: Tue Nov 26, 2002 3:01 pm
- Location: Mad House, Eating Tablets, Cereals, Jam, Marmalade and HONEY, with Albert
C2 on TV? is that a discussion about C2's views on TV's? 
or is my life so dull, it could be filled with the mundane and bland greys of daytime TV, that would have me wanting to even switch on a TV in the morning?
(Should you wish to discuss this matter on a one to one, discreet, yet strangely illuminating, basis, I could be persuaded to open my inbox to a short summary, nay, abstract of your recent perturbations on the couch with Natasha, as pointed out by your plangent utterances above.)
Did yer get yer fee?
Upon sober reflection, I do believe that we may have escaped a fate worse than dearth.
or is my life so dull, it could be filled with the mundane and bland greys of daytime TV, that would have me wanting to even switch on a TV in the morning?(Should you wish to discuss this matter on a one to one, discreet, yet strangely illuminating, basis, I could be persuaded to open my inbox to a short summary, nay, abstract of your recent perturbations on the couch with Natasha, as pointed out by your plangent utterances above.)
Did yer get yer fee?
Upon sober reflection, I do believe that we may have escaped a fate worse than dearth.
"Bipolar is a roller-coaster ride without a seat belt. One day you're flying with the fireworks; for the next month you're being scraped off the trolley" I said that.
Byron wrote:C2 on TV? is that a discussion about C2's views on TV's?
(Should you wish to discuss this matter on a one to one, discreet, yet strangely illuminating, basis, I could be persuaded to open my inbox to a short summary, nay, abstract of your recent perturbations on the couch with Natasha, as pointed out by your plangent utterances above.)
Did yer get yer fee?
Upon sober reflection, I do believe that we may have escaped a fate worse than dearth.
A fee? on that performance! ha ha ha! but I did get a nice chauffeur car to the studio really early in the morning and then an even nicer one on to Winchester CC.
I didn't speak with Natasha, only Dermot.
I was so wooden that a great line about the Government's advice on self-defence was not even recognised as a joke!
Dermot - "do you think the Government's new leaflet will be helpful for self-defence"
critic2- "it depends how heavy it is"
d'oh!
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Byron
- Posts: 3171
- Joined: Tue Nov 26, 2002 3:01 pm
- Location: Mad House, Eating Tablets, Cereals, Jam, Marmalade and HONEY, with Albert
The DuckLaurieAK wrote:Dear Byron-
i had been wondering when the 'poemer' of this would come forth
I am sort of repeating myself, but geez when i read " a duck" i'm thinking, "how the hell did a duck get in with all these bird!?!" It really threw me!
Thanks for your explanation, but i will never get over my moment of temporary stupidity when seeing that line
I don't have near the variety of eaters you do. During the summer, i have got the bravers Steller's Jays eating peanuts out of my hand. But right now the only brave souls in my yard are dark eyed juncos and chestnut chickadees dining on sunflower seeds.
While in birdy-mode...a few years back i stood on my deck and hand held my hummingbird feeder, putting my fingers near where the plastic nectar feeding flowers were. In a short time, a couple of hummers came along and --sat on my fingers while feeding--- it was amazing (we have the rufus hummers up here).
L
by Ogden Nash
Behold the duck.
It does not cluck.
A cluck it lacks.
It quacks.
It is specially fond
Of a puddle or pond.
When it dines or sups,
It bottoms ups.
"Bipolar is a roller-coaster ride without a seat belt. One day you're flying with the fireworks; for the next month you're being scraped off the trolley" I said that.