Birds

Draining A Swamp is An Act Of Violence

Folder: 
Mother Earth

*

It's violent to drain
a swamp.. killing many
beings and destroying the
habitat of birds,
frogs, fishes, and
other creatures.

Washington doesn't
need its swamp drained.
That was done 150 years
ago. It needs its
Augean stables at the
White House, Capitol Hill,
and the Supreme Court
cleansed, as well as at
every federal gency.

Pruitt's EPA and Zinke's
DOI have drained the swamp
.. destroying the marshlands
which are the cooling pools of
water of Mother
Earth,
They have filled in the swamps
with filthy oil.

 

saiom shriver

 

Footnote: Ireland is the first nation to

remove all investments in fossil fuels

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Sing Sing

Folder: 
Positive Thought

*

On a branch

outside Sing Sing

trying to cheer her

favorite prisoner

a bird sings

 

saiom shriver

 

Footnote: Sing Sing is a NY State prison, located in Ossining New York

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Oxymoron: Controlled Burns

Folder: 
Mother Earth

*

The wind changes and

'controlled burns'

become fires of

deforestation,

burning many 

animals and baby birds

alive,

causing others

defenestration.

 

saiom shriver

This caged bird don’t sing By jfarrell

This caged bird don’t sing

By jfarrell

 

Yes, I want to be free

Free to live, laugh and love

Free to enjoy, to be happy

To be normal.

 

To spread my wings and fly.

But

It’s safe here in my cage

No risk of getting hurt.

 

By something new,

By someone new.

No risk of a new cage,

“better the devil you know…”

 

This bird doesn’t sing;

This bird does dance;

This bird sits sulkily silent in his cage.

Already dead?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

response to a poem i read earlier

Greener Pastures

Folder: 
Favorites

 

We look out into the distance and see,

 

Flying down is a beautiful bird,

 

I am unsure of its species and appearance,

 

However, as we sit and admire I doubt I have ever seen anything so beautiful,

 

As the majesty swoops down near the green grass,

 

Than ascends towards her blue sky.

 

 

 

Some time passes and our bird friend appears to have abandoned us,

 

He has fled perhaps somewhere sunnier as the black clouds begin to close in,

 

Out of the corner a new bird appears,

 

A black silhouette, an ominous shadow,

 

He too, swoops down near the green grass,

 

Than ascends towards his dark sky.

 

 

 

Again a period of time passes and another bird chooses to leave us behind,

 

But yet again another appears and the storm comes to a close,

 

With this one the sky has balanced, and the full beauty of the world can be seen,

 

It flies in and out of the green grass, tiptoeing its way through the field,

 

It is perfect, the perfect bird and the perfect bird,

 

It too ascends towards the sky and leaves us behind however.

 

 

 

Perhaps the right bird is none at all, for they will always find a greener pasture.

 

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The Jealous Mockingbird

The Jealous Mockingbird

 

Once there was a mockingbird, whose name was Mike, sitting on the branch of a big three. He had not only shiny feathers but a mighty voice all his friends admired. He was singing his graceful song and dancing to it when another mockingbird sat next to him, one he had never seen before. “A new friend” he thought to himself, and decided to keep quiet in order to listen to him sing. This new mockingbird sang and his song was beautiful, but Mike was neither impressed nor delighted by his new friend’s talent, instead he felt jealousy, fearing that the song of his enemy was better than his. “This can’t be, my song is the best one there is. But just in case...” and the mockingbird decided to steal this song. And he practiced and practiced until he had master this new song, and now he could sing not only just his original song but this new one too. “This is proof that I am the best” he thought “if I can sing his song it means I am more talented than him”, and he went back to his nest to call it a day.

 

Next morning he woke up ready to show everyone his new talent and headed to the top branch of the highest tree, cleared his throat and sang his song full-throated, making sure that all his fellow mockingbirds could hear. As he always did, he catched the attention of all the other birds who kept quiet to listen to him and when they were all looking and him, he stopped for a second and began to sing his newly learned song. All the other birds froze, but not because they had liked this new song, but because they were shocked that Mike had sang a different song than his.

“This is outrageous” mockingbird Alexis, one of the elders, said “a mockingbird is born with a song of its own and that song is beautiful and original and special because it was composed specially for him” and he flew away offended at what he had just witnessed.

But not all of the mockingbirds thought like elder Alexis, and applauded Mike’s mastery on song-shifting. “If he can do it I can do it too” one of them said, “I bet we all can” the other one replied. And so it began that all the mockingbirds began to steal each other’s songs, changing from one to another and even forgetting their own. And newborn mockingbirds were no longer encouraged to find their true voice but to choose whose song to steal. And ever since Mike decided to still a song, no new songs had been heard and jealousy and mistrust spread, mockingbirds feared that they would be copied and always looked forward to coping others, and the old days when they all danced to their songs and shared them and admired the diversity were long gone. And it all began to decay until one day it was all over.

 

And this is the story of how the world ended. You may wonder why there were no explosions or chaos but you know what they say: “This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a whimper” (T. S. Eliot)

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PIGEONS IN THE SKY

On a morning walk I chanced to see
That is both Deborah and I,
From a pier that juts into the sea...
Pigeons in the sky.

We see many birds as we meander
So one may wonder...why
With pelicans and herons, who seem grander
Did we notice pigeons in the sky?

The pigeons were flying, to our elation
Silently, wings spread
In one harmonious formation
Just above our heads.

Left and right, up and down, they flew
In a wonderful display
And we were there to witness anew
Their beautiful ballet.

How do they do it? fly as one
Perhaps we’ll never know why
As they dance in the shadow of the sun
And waltz across the sky.

Then again, we don’t have to know
For our life to be enhanced
The beauty is not in knowing
The beauty is in the dance.

And life needs more grace and symmetry
More moments that beautify
More moments of surprise and mystery
Like pigeons in the sky.

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The Raven and the Blue Jay

There once was a time, not so long ago, in Central Park New York City, a Raven and a Blue Jay (better known as “Jay”), who were the best of friends. These two were friends ever since they could remember; nest friends as papa bird calls them. While Raven had this combustion of impulsive energy in him, this need to always outsmart and stand out from the crowd. Little intelligent Blue Jay stayed by his side, and always supported him from the shadows.

 

Raven would always brag about being the fastest flyer in the city. He was recognized as “rapid raven” in Owl High since he was known for his capacity to do every thing faster than anyone else. Jay on the other hand, wasn’t known at all. Since he didn’t prove he was outstanding like Raven so he was practically invisible. Actually, he was outstanding in his own way but nobody noticed. He had the perfect grades and was a great singer. He actually preferred it this way though, his situation caused him no trouble. The mere thought of how fame just alters your ego and morphs you into someone you’re not, gave him the shivers down to his bird bones. He certainly did not want to be like that, however Raven was transforming little by little.

 

These two were a great pair. They’d do everything together. They would fly to school in the mornings and fly back home in the evenings, sometimes they would even wake up at dawn and go hunting. Even though they had their differences they needed each other, they counted on one another.

 

One day at school they were asked to do a project, they needed to collect branches and make a nest out of them. Once the head Owl was done explaining the instructions for the project, Raven had already begun the daunting task ahead. He soared through the whole park in a short matter of time, collecting the most branches he could find, of course faster than Jay.

 

Even if his friend seemed to be way ahead of him, Jay did not panic, and thought the project in a wise and composed manner. Brainstorming first about how he wanted to build his nest and making the physic and mathematical calculations on how much weight he wanted the nest to hold. After his calculations he slowly searched for the specific type of branches he had in mind; small but sturdy.

 

Raven, like always apparently “beat” Jay and brought in one hundred little tiny branches to their workshop in less than an hour. He started to work on his nest and was already halfway done by the time Jay arrived. Jay on the other hand, only brought fifty branches and started to build his nest patiently.

 

At the end of the class, the head Owl came to try out their nests. Raven bragged about how fast he had made his nest while Jay just stayed quiet. As the head Owl tried out Jay’s nest, every thing was amazing, he jumped, danced and it was hard as a rock. Once the head Owl stood on Raven’s nest it looked fine, but just as he jumped, the nest crumpled and came down in a rush. Raven stood there quiet and for the first time; and congratulated his best friend.

 

The moral of the story is this: Real achievement isn’t about who makes it faster, it’s about the final product.

 

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*The Colors Of Nature*

 October-10-2000 

 Trisha M. Barrek Hopkins

 

The color of all the leaves when they change 

For when they get ready for winter 

Where all the animals get arranged 

And you trying to get out that wood splinter

For the winters snow will begin to fall 

When the insects go into hiding 

You know they heard the colds call 

Watching all the animals deciding

 

All the colors of nature 

Change the look of everything 

All the leaves color the pasture 

All the beauty that nature has to bring 

In the kids hearing all their laughter 

A calm sound when the nature sings

Copyright

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