Foolish Monkey

Foolish Monkey
Location
MAGIC TOWN where the old never die, Connecticut,
Birthday
January 31
Bio
*************************** *************************** WARNING: what you read at noon is NEVER the same poem or post a few hours later. I can't help myself. I like to noodle. HELPFUL SUGGESTION: if you like what you've read (and even if you didn't), come back in a day or two. It'll be better. In fact, if you hated it, you must come back and read it again because it will definitely be better. *************************** "I find that I am so excited I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it's the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain" -Red in The Shawshank Redemption, Stephen King ***************************

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post menopausal fiction and strange moody pieces
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poetry
FEBRUARY 10, 2010 10:17AM

bird wars: a poem

Rate: 7 Flag

outside my window a fat bluejay

dancing on the hefty old maple

eyes the others wondering 

who will get the better of him

 

he is rumored to be a bully

but there is a flock sparrows

unimpressed by his attempts

to push them from the common trough

 

swooping down he will unfurl his massive wings

even as they hold their ground

the chorus chirping caution in loud melodious trills

tens of tiny busy birds

not nearly as impressive as he

in his perfect blue suit with matching fedora

little merchants in a market

wearing rumpled brown

they will hold their place

 

mr bluejay is unafraid

but the sparrows do concern him

so he sits watching 

waiting for the righteous onslaught

 ah but for now we are safe

 

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Comments

Type your comment below:
One against the world -- birds and people.
R
Thanks Donna. Yes. We're all in it and it's always one vs the rest, isn't it.

Mission, thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed.
Love it, you've captured them perfectly, the fedora, the rumpled brown. Big R
"in his perfect blue suit with matching fedora". That is so cool!
what scanner said. plus a lot more. i love this poem, monkey.
The jays are loud and brutish, that's true. I watch them swoop and threaten at my mother's house. You've captured that here perfectly with your prose.
This is lovely - ' little merchants in the market ' - thankyou.
whoops - in A market .... god ... whichever, just a delight - thankyou.
the chorus chirping caution--I like the poem and especially this line.