The Bird's Bargain
'O spare my cherries in the net,'
Brother Benignus prayed; 'and I
Summer and winter, shine and wet,
Will pile the blackbirds' table high.'
'O spare my youngling peas,' he prayed,
'That for the Abbot's table be;
And every blackbird shall be fed;
Yea, they shall have their fill,' said he.
His prayer, his vow, the blackbirds heard,
And spared his shining garden-plot.
In abstinence went every bird,
All the old thieving ways forgot.
He kept his promise to his friends,
And daily set them finest fare
Of corn and meal and manchet-ends,
With marrowy bones for winter bare.
Brother Benignus died in grace:
The brethren keep his trust, and feed
The blackbirds in this pleasant place,
Purged, as dear heaven, from strife and greed.
The blackbirds sing the whole year long,
Here where they keep their promise given,
And do the mellowing fruit no wrong.
Brother Benignus smiles in heaven.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Gulf Coast Highway
(nanci griffith)
Gulf coast highway, he worked the rails
He worked the rice fields with their cold dark wells
He worked the oil rigs in the gulf of mexico
The only thing weve owned is this old house here by the road
And when he dies he says hell catch some blackbirds wing
And we will fly away to heaven
Come some sweet blue bonnet spring
She walked through springtime when I was home
The days were sweet, our nights were warm
The seasons changed, the jobs would come
The flowers fade, and this old house felt so alone
When the work took me away
And when she dies she says shell catch some blackbirds wing
And she will fly away to heaven
Come some sweet blue bonnet spring
Highway 90, the jobs are gone
We kept our garden, we set the sun
This is the only place on earth blue bonnets grow
And once a year they come and go
At this old house here by the road
And when we die we say well catch some blackbirds wing
And we will fly away to heaven
Come some sweet blue bonnet spring
Yes when we die we say well catch some blackbirds wing
And we will fly away together
Come some sweet blue bonnet spring
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
I
Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird.
II
I was of three minds,
Like a tree
In which there are three blackbirds.
III
The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.
It was a small part of the pantomime.
IV
A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a blackbird
Are one.
V
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.
VI
Icicles filled the long window
With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the blackbird
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the shadow
An indecipherable cause.
VII
O thin men of Haddam,
Why do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how the blackbird
Walks around the feet
Of the women about you?
VIII
I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know.
IX
When the blackbird flew out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles.
X
At the sight of blackbirds
Flying in a green light,
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply.
XI
He rode over Connecticut
In a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage
For blackbirds.
XII
The river is moving.
The blackbird must be flying.
XIII
It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs.
poem by Wallace Stevens
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Laughing Corn
There was a high majestic fooling
Day before yesterday in the yellow corn.
And day after to-morrow in the yellow corn
There will be high majestic fooling.
The ears ripen in late summer
And come on with a conquering laughter,
Come on with a high and conquering laughter.
The long-tailed blackbirds are hoarse.
One of the smaller blackbirds chitters on a stalk
And a spot of red is on its shoulder
And I never heard its name in my life.
Some of the ears are bursting.
A white juice works inside.
Cornsilk creeps in the end and dangles in the wind.
Always--I never knew it any other way--
The wind and the corn talk things over together.
And the rain and the corn and the sun and the corn
Talk things over together.
Over the road is the farmhouse.
The siding is white and a green blind is slung loose.
It will not be fixed till the corn is husked.
The farmer and his wife talk things over together.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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I value my garden more for being full of blackbirds than of cherries, and very frankly give them fruit for their songs.
quote by Joseph Addison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blackbirds
(- this is done in the tradition of 'Imagist' poetry, which was very popular in the 1910's and 20's... personally I still find it quite fascinating. - Smoky.)
- Stevens wrote:
' The river is moving
The blackbird must be flying '
- The blackest waters
Flow, as flying...
The birds sail
Below, the sky crying -
It has been dark
All day...
Clouds and blackbirds
Get in the sun's way -
In the way they move
And flow,
In the way they stay
And go -
In a field
Of solid white...
The blackbirds
Are the dark of night.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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A Man's Best Friend
Once, there was a dog
Who lived in a zoo.
His name was Butterscotch,
And he loved bones to chew.
He would roll over
Every time I came by,
And he would sit up
If I offered a French fry.
Butterscotch was the best,
But sometimes he was bad.
He would chew on my shoes
And the purse that I had.
Not only that,
He would act so crazy.
He would go 'Bark! '
Or he would be lazy.
One day, we had blackbirds
Fly near his cage.
Butterscotch barked
At blackbirds out of rage.
This dog was a nut,
And he was so loud,
That he could make the wind
That scared away clouds.
Sometimes Butterscotch
Might act the wrong way.
However, I remember
'Every dog has its day.'
Butterscotch is so cool,
He will do what he is told.
He does so many tricks.
He is nowhere near old.
Do not forget
That a dog is a man's best friend.
In fact, he just might make it
With you to the end.
poem by Rebecca Ryan
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In The Yard Behind The Church
In the yard, behind the church
Where butterflies and blackbirds search
For a safe place to rest the night away
We will go down to the brook
And sit upon the overlook
Then forget about the troubles of the day
We will walk among the graves of
Men long dead with Presidents' names and
Listen to the water flow softly by
I will kiss you on the lips now
And as the sky grows dark we'll strip down
And let the water wash away all lies
In the yard, behind the church
Where butterflies and blackbirds perch
On gravestones as the garden's growing dim
We will lay down on the ground
And put our cheeks against the dirt down
Where it no longer matters where you've been
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Died
Die my brother die
You can't see God like this,
I died my brother I died
But I saw Hell instead.
.
Kneel my brother pray
And seek atonement,
I knelt my brother I prayed,
But I got punishment instead.
.
Dance my brother sing,
And praise the Lord in highest,
I danced my brother I sang
Much more than David did.
But instead I saw the Lord in rage.
.
Don't be afraid my brother
Confront your fate,
The Lord is of mercy and kindness,
He shall forgive all your weakness,
But I summoned courage my brother
I confronted my fate.
.
Yet instead the Lord turned
His face in disgust,
And said: take him to Hades!
poem by Efe Benjamin
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Brother Wind
“I thank my god for brother wind,”
So prayed St. Francis long ago
In words of simple, joyous praise,
That fill my heart with sudden glow
As-braced by winter’s icy draught-
With singing soul, and strengthened mind,
I humbly join the good Saint’s prayer
Thank my God for “Brother Wind.”
For Brother Wind, who, whispering soft
Brings subtlest perfume on his wings,
The violet scent of childhood days,
The lost delight in simple things;
For Brother wind, who whistling keen
O’er open plain and storm-scarred hill,
Cleanses from mind, and heart, and brain,
All thoughts of wrong, and ancient ill.
Who wafts from scarce-stirred lily beds
Incense of early purity,
Or wakes to life our laggard souls
With stinging fragrance of the sea.
Echoes of Heaven, far-off and faint
For weary heart and tired mind,
Sweet long-lost memories, old and quaint-
These are the gifts of Brother Wind.
Ah! Dear St. Francis, let me kneel
Before thy shrine with joyous mind
Joining my humble, grateful prayer,
Thanking our God for Brother Wind.
poem by Alice Guerin Crist
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A Pleasant Day For July
In the cool sun of mid Winter a gentle northern breeze
Is whispering in the parkland on the gum and wattle trees
The leaves are quietly stirring as the branches gently sway
And the sparrows are chirping on a pleasant Winter's day.
Going by the weather forecast heavy rain is on the way
The calm before the storm as some are known to say
But we won't be complaining as we do need lots of rain
To add to the Town reservoir and bring life to the creek and drain.
A pleasant day for July in the Southern Winter of the year
The sweet flute of the magpie is a joyful thing to hear
The blackbirds in the garden gathering material for their nest
And Spring is not that distant the Season many love best.
A pleasant day for July with just a slight chill in the air
And even in the southern Winter days such as this are rare
The first of September the calendar Spring's first day
In time does not seem distant barely six weeks away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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While Lounging In A Chair
While lounging in a chair, I looked up at the ceiling
Where, teasing my imagination,
A circle hangs above the quiet lamp,
And spins just like a ghostly shadow.
Within the flicker there's a trace of autumn sunset:
As if, above the rooftop and the garden,
Unable to fly off, afraid to land,
Dark flocks of blackbirds circle. . .
No, it's not wings I hear, but hooves at the front gate!
I hear the trembling hands . . .
How chill the pallor of a lovely face!
How bitter parting's whisper! . .
Lost and in silence, I survey the distant road
Beyond the dimming garden,-
While the impatient flock of blackbirds,
Unsheltered, circles still.
poem by Afanasy Afanasyevich Fet
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For Bill - My Brother
Who was aged five when I was born
My brother
Who hid my toys and broke my dolls
My brother
Who avoided his sister at school all day
My brother
Who tolerated my teenage years
My brother
Who as an adult became a friend
My brother
Who mellowed with each passing year
My brother
Who supported my desire to immigrate
My brother
Who was there when others weren't
My brother
Who buried our parents while I was gone
My brother
Who cherished every visit I made
My brother
Who had his ticket to visit me here
My brother
Who unexpectedly died this year
My brother
poem by Evelyn Macdonald
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The Little Black Bird: A Poem For The Other Woman
the little black bird
goes home in a cave
just below her belly
between
her legs
it sings about love
that she always kills
for nothing
before midnight the
blackbird flies
seeking the warmth
of other blackbirds
it is cold and
dying
in her keeping
now she sings alone
like a blackbird
cursing
the trees and the flowers
she wants to disown the
blackbird
in exchange for the
earthworm
she likes it that way
wriggling
without any feet at all
pointed and
penetrating
the curse continues
it can never be hers
and the blackbird
keeps coming back
mocking her like
an old man
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lament for the Poets: 1916
I heard the Poor Old Woman say:
"At break of day the fowler came,
And took my blackbirds from their songs
Who loved me well thro' shame and blame
No more from lovely distances
Their songs shall bless me mile by mile,
Nor to white Ashbourne call me down
To wear my crown another while.
With bended flowers the angels mark
For the skylark the place they lie,
From there its little family
Shall dip their wings first in the sky.
And when the first suprise of flight
Sweet songs excite, from the far dawn
Shall there come blackbirds loud with love,
Sweet echoesmof the singers gone.
But in the lovely hush of eve
Weeping I grieve the silent bills"
I heard the Poor Old Woman say
In Derry of the little hills.
poem by Francis Ledwidge
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Blackbirds (For Smoky And Patti)
blackbirds...
the spindly children
of blood red skies,
walking barefooted
on the dusty path,
cawing!
demons?
no, the demons
walk upright with
sharpened swords,
cutting the tongues
from the beaks,
breaking wings
with moral hammers!
blackbirds...
spirits set out,
left to dandelion clinging,
and morsels of bread
thrown out by
those who belch rules...
spirits,
that die to fly,
to taste forbidden clouds,
cawing!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Brother Like Him
I'M SO LUCKY TO HAVE A BROTHER LIKE HIM! A BROTHER LIKE HIM, WHO I CAN LAUGH AND TALK TO HIM ANYTIME! A BROTHER LIKE HIM WHOM I CAN MAKE NEW MEMORIES WITH HIM! A BROTHER LIKE HIM WHO IS ALWAYS BY MY SIDE! I AM PROUD TO HAVE A BROTHER LIKE HIM NOT BECAUSE OF HIS ACCOMPLISHMENT, BUT BECAUSE OF WHO HE IS! A BROTHER LIKE HIM WHO DOESN'T WANT ME TO CHOOSE WRONG WAYS BUT RIGHT WAYS! YES, HE IS MY ROLE MODEL! ! A BROTHER LIKE HIM WHO ALWAYS TELL'S ME WHAT IS GOOD AND NOT GOOD FOR ME! NOW HE IS FAR AWAY FROM HOME! WE ONLY COMMUNICATE VIA CELL PHONES, AND HEARING HIS VOICE MAKES ME TO MISS HIM EVEN MORE! BUT I HAVE TO WAIT BECAUSE SOON HE WILL COME AND VIST! A BROTHER LIKE HIM......A BROTHER LIKE HIM......'MR P 'HE IS MY FIRST 'BIGGY'BIG BROTHER! !
poem by K.R Relebogile Mafojane
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Brother To Brother Hymn
Brother to brother
I know that I can always coun on you
Because you are my brther
And I am your brother also
Brother to brother
Your life is different than mine
You live in Brazil
I live in Canad a country that is more advanced in technology
Brother to brother
I will pray for you
Eventhough you don't believe in God
Brother to brother I will email you more frequently
Brother to brother I will sing you a song
Brother to brother I hope the saints will go to Sao paulo and watch you While you are sleeping
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Double entendre? for M'lady fay
Clear crisp notes on the morning air.
The blackbirds joyous melody,
which he sings loudly to declare.
This is my home territory.
To human ears a liquid trill,
to other birds a warning; clear.
I will not hesitate to kill
intruders who dare venture here.
This is my domain, mine alone
and I will guard it jealously.
So heed my warning and be gone
I wield supreme authority.
A pretty song. A warning note
which issues from the blackbirds throat.
31-Jan-09
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Is In Heaven
Brother Martin was assassinated at a very young age.
Intelligent and determined; he was a wise sage.
I am convinced that he is definitely the only man
In Heaven.
Bro. Martin fought for everybody’s civil rights, regardless of race,
Color, gender, origin, etcetera, etcetera. He is in a better place
Right now, I feel that he is the only man
In Heaven.
Brother Martin was a very dedicated disciple of Jesus Christ,
Who did not fight back, but he was stronger than ice;
He was a peaceful warrior. I know that he is the only man
In Heaven.
There is a lot that one can say and write about this legend.
He had many dreams and great visions, He knew how to blend
Fiction and reality. He was a man of ideas and actions.
Brother Martin is in Heaven working on different transactions.
I want to thank him and his associates for their sacrifices.
Brother Martin is still alive. His dreams are alive under the auspices
Of God’s blessings to fight racism, unfairness and all sorts of inequalities.
Brother Martin is not dead. We shall overcome despite our inabilities.
Jesus died for our sins, but Brother Martin died for things
That benefit all humanities. Let the angels sing, let freedom ring
In every corner of the earth. I am overjoyed to say that Brother Martin
Is in Heaven.
poem by Hebert Logerie (15 January 2012)
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Confessions of a Bound Soul
Brother, my brother,
How selfish was I
While you seemed to struggle,
I sat idly by
Brother, my brother
Yes, try as I might
I now realize
It was also my fight
Brother, my brother
Now look at your arm
It's cold and immovable
Lost all its charm
Brother, my brother
Now look at your leg
There's so much left missing
Yet not once did you beg
Brother, my brother
Though I lost more in mass
It is you far more haunted
By our mistakes in the past
Brother, dear brother
Listen when I say
I will stick by your side
Until this goes away
Brother, dear brother
Listen when I say
I will stick by your side
Until our final day
poem by Amanda Saveley
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