nostalgia
yesterday I walked the shore
there was a bird - nothing more
night had long fallen
and the bird was waking up
the sky inspired it to sing
I'd miss its art if I blinked
it had found solace
where no one else dared to go
to this bird belonged the night
I felt devoid of my fight
as I stood there on the shore
and the bird - it understood
it sang tones which only those
those who suffered from remorse
could listen to with tears
in their glistening eyes
wounds
ashy girl of seventeen
walked the shore down in a spleen
with a bloody handkerchief
she listened to the bird's song
she grabbed the bird by the neck
I felt my turmoil flow back
shadows danced on the shore
sea creatures threatened the bird
and demons began to shout
the bird sang its frail lungs out
for a mere modicum
modicum of peace and quiet
it could do with little care
blood falling on its thin hair
from its parents' rotten hearts
the bird never drew the line
flames
I reached my hand to the bird
knowing its love and its hurt
it sang to me in frail tones
to burn all it had left behind
it brings my soul immense pain
how easy it's set aflame
a being's whole legacy
like a plague consumes the town
I said no to the poor bird
for in its songs I felt heard
I couldn't light on fire the tones
that have changed our history
kavka
one more memory I recover:
when it sang for its lover
the bird called itself
a jackdaw
yesterday I walked the shore
there was a jackdaw - nothing more
as I stood there, my mind sore
the bird knew me to my core
VOUS LISEZ
The Jackdaw and Other Poems
Poésieas one grows up one tends to forget how one felt a couple years ago I am the same amount of a novelist as I am a poet between my lines I captured my emotional growth and the battle cry that I am back from the dead
