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Feathers

It’s as if all the birds
In every weather
Had dropped every feather
The weight sometimes
Of all those why's
A ton of lead
Or a ton of words unsaid
Down on a feathered bed
The weight belies
The width of squawks
When the birds are dead
And they sing remembering
When a ton of song
Weighed the same as
Fly away Autumns
Flu away fall
Feather or not
Bird at all.

Stephen Kirin

Poetry Theme(s):

Currently Popular Poems:

White Hawthorns

The day speaks of white hawthorn Sundays Long washed out road trips, reluctant relatives waving you off on arrival. Rain from decades passed, a swishing of glimpses. Parents cramped and fretful. Passing through a littered accompaniment of faceless outlines. Stretched out warming children, car sick, scrunch up weathered newspapers. Pungent smells of nostalgia, almost Springs bouncing forward hours. Eager sweet wrappers lunge for half opened windows to adorn the floating blossom clouds of hawthorn bushes, March’s winds step in much like a bone-chilled but amiable hitch hiker. A querulous sibling rolls over, sickening, falls out in a screeching of tires. Tearfully rain-splattered. Another weekend pulled out and pegged up, redolent of adolescences quickly traversed. Mark Ereira-Guyer
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A Missed Blow

Turn the knob down A gas light Beckons A grasped strength Within Clutching For approval. Survive I might A further night. Rachel   
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Erosion

Unerring yet erratic The weight of water never waits for readiness Sandstone is proven to be a two-faced liar a pretence of solidity written into the features of its rockface which crumbles under a wave’s supremacy and we wave goodbye to all we knew Lynne Nesbit
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I Remember You

I remember you in the red of the sun as it slips into the night I see you in the breaking dawn as the stars give up their light I feel you in the strength of the wind as it caresses through my hair I hear you in the blackbird’s song as it dances through the air I walk the steps your feet once walked, I smell the flowers you grew From the death of the sun till the light of new moon, I remember you Emmalene Taylor  
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Lace-like Shadows

Dancing with lace-like shadows of forgotten worlds, the tortoiseshell creeps slowly, the last energies to lie upon the rough bark. With folded wings, Madame butterfly is no more til Spring. Charlotte
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Stones of Old

Tell me your song oh stones of old of the summers that warmed you and the strike of the cold the voices of song absorbed in your heart the anger and fear that tore you apart. Speak to me of church bells and whispered dreams the rough hands that gathered your broken seams the waterways that carried your bones of lime the soft crunch of bread and red rivers of wine. Who did you cradle in your shadowed arch as the songbirds heralded the soldiers march as battles raged in the skies ahead and you sheltered your spiders in a stony bed? Is the wear on your shoulders the marks of the wild or the scrape of a heel from a venturing child? Discarded windows frame the dance of time Oh tell me your stories great stalwarts of lime.     Emmalene  
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A Woodland Ensemble - Psithurism of the Trees.

The plane tree With paper-like rustle Elephant patches And scaly trunk. Memories And mellow whispers Of a darkest tempest Dropping the bass. Constable elms Whispering, suckering saplings Converting To beetle runs beneath. Ash- With minstrel keys playing harmonies masking sinister die back. Crataegus thickets The scratchy rasping may catch you quick. Whispering pines Bend forwards Reaching skywards Splintering the silence. Mother beech With spaltered Marks waltzing And humoresque streaks. Holly reigns in Summer solstice Days shorten And poco a poco winter returns. King of the woods Ships hold Forte and Table fast. Eric
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Lichen a Plenty

Lichen a plenty,  With your crispy and crusty Foliose forms Lichen reveals the Hidden substrate beneath. Ashley
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Let's Go Climb a Tree

Come my friend and we will find The biggest tree in which to climb Where we can touch the sky above And fill the air with clouds of love Hold my hand and let us go To run in grass filled meadow Raise our arms and spin away Let’s go climb a tree today Follow me down a woodland path Free your voice to sing and laugh Speak your truth, dance and play Let’s go climb a tree today Find that child that hides inside Behind the walls of fear and pride Open the door and let them play Let’s go climb a tree today Emmalene Taylor
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Leper Chapel - Screams from the Past

Ghost-like stones Of crumbled chalk And forgotten dreams: A leper screams. Lost limbs and Fallen faces: Nuns and monk’s graces Lost to leprosy. Condemned to the chapel: Painful screams, Disfiguring disease In Eleventh Century. A prosperous port To Dunwich they came, Outside Pales Dyke -The fortified ditch. Fragments of columns, Wind-worn capitals And carved Caen stone: Soulless shadows alone. Sandstone arches Guarding unearthly silhouettes Of threatened and isolated lepers Forbidden to work. Medicinal monk-fussing ointments Of hemlock, henbane and mandrake. Preparing for surgery, Opium alerts and vinegar-dabbed faces. Herbs soothing bacteria progressing; Curved sandstone arches Clasping the ghost-like shadows, Echoing the delicate gloom. Stephanie
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