She comes in the sun
Five am
Sleep leaves
Taken by the hand of dreams
Shouts next door
The lid brackets
Peck peck pecking
Open me up
Open me up
Lost in the pebbles
A clock stuck at twelve
Insignificant
Unless you add it up
I am not in yellow like the bird
Maybe I am blue or black
Something heavy in my pockets
Stones and powder gathered at the bottom
In my breath
In my head
don’t think
No one hears the angels panic
At five am the silver chimney pot glows like a godless chalice
She nods
One half gone
One half left
Where am I, I ask her
She nods
I divulged the truth into myself
don't think
don't think
I resolved to dissolve quietly on her lips
Gentle as powder
Tough as granite.
O! Wow. Yellow Bird. Speechless.
ReplyDelete(Though my mind is everywhere from waking to peace to Virginia Woolf's pockets to transformation to high high up in a banana tree. So beautiful.)
My mind is all over the place too Susan largely because I am bananas...hadn't thought of Virginia Woolf...I would need heavier stones to get that particular job done..led me to remember the suffocation of The Yellow Wallpaper too..that little bird has a lot to answer for...thanks for prompting it this way
Deletei like this much....great progression....the images are wonderful...love the little bird...i visit with mine in the mornings...and i like the introspection on what color you may be...the repetition is spot on...may be my fav of your poems...
ReplyDeleteThank you very much Brian..an early morning dose of birds and dreaming can work wonders in shifting out the words..I am glad you enjoyed them
DeleteThis is an astonishing poem, with great beauty. I love the bird woven through it, then one half gone, one half left. Wow. This poem blew me away.
ReplyDeleteNow that brought back a memory...fly away Peter...fly away Paul...and that little thing you did where you bent your finger in half..huh..thank you very much Sherry
DeleteMysteriously beautiful...and it's cool to be 'gentle as powder' and 'tough as granite'...it seems the bird is have gone in a different dimension..also 'she is yellow' while someone's blue or black....isn't it a resolution in action - to going to light! Excellent!
ReplyDeleteThank you kindly humbird... j tends to I operate in her own dimension..always good to reconvene in the blog garden...yellow birds and humbirds :)
DeleteI love the yellow bird. It is the color of sunshine but doesn't warm. It's a curious creature, though.
ReplyDeleteWould anyone notice if angels panicked? We are so sure they cannot, that we might deny even if we saw.
Thank you Ann..she is a sickly toxic kind of creature..but persistent and flighty..which can be good..no..I don't think the world would want to acknowledge a panicky angel...I would imagine those clouds feel pretty tenuous however..
DeleteI saw a yellow bird in my back yard a little canary. It was beautiful but I like the symbolism of your bird you going to the light.
ReplyDeleteThank you very much Sheilagh...a canary would be fun to see in the wild...like the little bird in Peanuts
Deletewonderful happenings at five am in the dreamland...
ReplyDeleteThank you very much Sumana...I think tomorrow though I might prefer sleep land at 5am!
DeleteAt 5 am the blasted bird deserves a little granite powder, no matter how bright and sunny.
ReplyDeleteI agree thank you Alice..she's pretty but would prefer if she came calling at around 8 with a nice cup of tea and a slice of toast and marmalade..
DeleteJae, as long as we are frying new potatoes, I think it is a good sign. And that yellow bird is one that I am going to follow. The land of dreams is a pleasant alternative!! Have a great week, Jae.
ReplyDeleteThank you Mary...yes keeping potatoes hot on the stove keeps us moving ever onward...thank you Mary..and happy dreams and days back xo
DeleteI wonder what Freud would have made of this? Jealousy I expect; the the little yellow bird has the life that you want. All the while the bird looks on you with envy too! You certainly get your readers thinking Jae!
ReplyDeleteI think j may have told Freud were to stick his pipe.. perhaps that little bird is enviable...although we are both going about our business in our little chimney pots I guess..thank you Old Egg
DeleteI enjoyed the imagery in your poem, Jae, especially the bird and the mundane task of frying new potatoes (the best in my opinion).
ReplyDeleteThank you very much Gabriella..they are yummy ;)
DeleteLife makes us tough as granite, if we let it. I guess we need to be tough to survive.
ReplyDeleteYes indeed..white marble maybe a prettier kind of tough..thank you kindly Belva..
DeleteBeautiful writing ~ I like the imagery of the yellow bird - stunning first stanza to last ~
ReplyDeleteI wish I can get up that early to write, smiles ~
Thank you very much Grace..it's a blur of spelling mistakes at that hour though!
DeleteI understand, only my yellow bird glows green numbers.
ReplyDeleteI'll trade you...you can turn green numbers off.. tsk..thank you GL ;)
DeleteSomething heavy in my pockets
ReplyDeleteStones and powder gathered at the bottom
Appears simple but very philosophical. One often time finds little irritations like the stones that put us down into depressions. Great write Jae!
Hank
Yes there are pebbles and stones in every nook and cranny...thank you kindly Hank
Deletedon't think
ReplyDeletedon't think
I am not able to
because I am not a yellow bird
I am like water,
thirsty for more, Jae..
You are amazing...absolutely amazing. Period.
RS:)
Thank you as ever Ramesh... hopefully there will be more yellow birds along the way :)
DeleteOh I'm afraid that little bird whistling or anyone frying potatoes at 5am would find themselves doing it somewhere else very quickly/ Exuberance has always been forbidden in my household until 10 am. I sometimes need to remind myself that most people do not live like I do.As for you envying the life of the little whistler 5am yellow bird...well, something tells me that you would not LOL
ReplyDeleteTsk..i think that's a policy i could well adopt..and if insomnia strikes i would rather be in a comfy bed than a chimney pot..never did the whole camping thing..not that i am precious..just would rather be gloomy in comfort..thank you (quietly..unless it's past 10 am where you are)..Rallentanda..I think you know me well!
DeleteYes, a wonderful poem. I like the way the little bird that travels through all of your images!
ReplyDeleteLittle birds are good..thank you kindly Annell xo
DeleteBeautifully written! I loved it.
ReplyDeleteThank you paperdollmom (great moniker!)
Deleteopen me up open me up and you have. for sometimes there is that unquiet ache to dissovle quietly
ReplyDeleteYes..it can bubble away inside can't it..thank you very much Shauna
Delete