jillypoet: mom trying to write

Each day I wish I had invented waterproof sticky notes (for shower inspiration) or pen-friendly diapers to get down all my quirky thoughts that I am sure are relevant and publishable. And so God (actually another writer-mommy) sent me The Blog.

Wednesday, February 28, 2007

One for the birds

There is not a lot I can say about this week's prompt for POetry ThURsdaY. I'm not supposed to! The prompt is to write about something beautiful without naming it. Thing is, from whence I began, so far have I flown. Heehee. I'm getting silly. It's late.

Anyway, I was writing, writing, writing about the beautiful dance the birds were holding in my front yard. So many birds, more than I've ever seen on my lawn. It was amazing. Fast, furious, darting in and out of the trees like drunken sailors, and yes, by my estimation they were all men. So, I wrote the poem. Only to be left a little non-plussed by it. Then, on re-reading, I realized, the longing was reminscent of something from so long ago. The bad boyfriend popped into my head. He didn't deserve even a title on one of my poems, but here it is, nonetheless.

So much for not naming something. Thanks for reading!


How a Flock of Birds Brought Me Back to 21, Cheated On By a State Trooper

The birds are having parties in my trees
when I am not at home.
I caught you robin.
Big, fat harbinger of Spring,
I know for a fact
you and your red-breasted friends do not go South
when the snow flies.
And here you are, wings askew,
orange belly puffed out in pride or testosterone, proving my point.
But what of your cardinal friends?
What about the pretty boys?
Sweet red cowboys.
Don’t see their kind around here too often.
Loud, raucous bold as their bloody feathers.
They dwarf the smooth-crown regulars,
the black-capped chickadees
the house sparrows
and purple finches.
What’s the meaning of this?
What’s the deal with the crowd?
Pulling in my driveway
it looks like a tailgate party
in my front yard.
Wings tipped, breasts bared, feathers ruffled,
tufted titmice scrambling to cover their stiff crowns.
And red-headed wood pecker, is that a lampshade?
Where’s my invitation?
I would like to eat and fly.
After all, I pay the rent.

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13 Comments:

Blogger brian said...

I know what you mean about the birds having a party. Happens every day at my house.

This is a great poem, I love how you made them all men. :)

Brian

9:15 AM  
Blogger pepektheassassin said...

Old boyfriends? Bloody feathers, partying in your driveway...yeah, I get it!

11:27 AM  
Blogger Dennis said...

This was fun to read! Picturing a riot of feathers and scurrying bugs!

1:44 PM  
Blogger Carolee said...

sweet red cowboys ... my favorite line! well, there's also the last few lines about you wanting some of the action because you pay the rent. maybe that's my favorite.

it's good to have choices. many images to love!

1:55 PM  
Blogger Regina Clare Jane said...

This was so fun!
Maybe the sweet red cowboys have to come to visit us here in FL- we have so many of them here!
And yes, wouldn't it be crazy to just fly and eat!

2:39 PM  
Blogger Jessica said...

There is so much to like in this poem -- the title, the personification of the birds, the strange lampshade at the end. I think my favorite part is the voice of the narrator, so snarky and jealous. Great poem!

4:44 PM  
Blogger Emily said...

I loved the title of this poem...it grounds it so perfectly. And I love these birds who seem so defiant. Well done.

7:15 PM  
Blogger wendy said...

This was a joy to read...the woodpecker made me giggle.

7:58 PM  
Blogger SLP said...

My PT mojo keeps finding me apostrophe poems to read and savor -- first an avocado, then a toaster, and now a yard-full of hooligan birds...

I really like the bursts of color and detail strewn throughout the litany of accusations here... and the bad boyfriend is so, so necessary (the set-up in the title is perfect)... otherwise it's a clever personification, a cute comparison, but the vitriol would seem misplaced... this way, the reader celebrates every goofy, exasperated indictment.

Cool.

8:25 PM  
Blogger Clockworkchris said...

Much laughter ensued after reading your poem. Thanks for not following my idea-it was getting boring...Im just being honest. I write tons, like over a hundred, of poems about X's and they just kinda pop up out of no-where the way you described yours did. I really enjoyed it. Men like birds

8:56 PM  
Blogger Crafty Green Poet said...

This is excellent. I love birds but have no garden so sometimes I have to get my birdwatching vicariously through poems like this.... Thanks!

6:42 AM  
Blogger Poet with a Day Job said...

JP you are such a great poet! First off, you have some of the best titles I have ever read since Wallace Stevens. I love the sounds your poems make rolling off the tongue. And of course, I love the way you have compared birds to people: we all do our little dance to draw people toward us, and to make people scram. Very nice work. It is always a delight to read yoru poems.

4:25 PM  
Blogger Jone said...

This is fun to read. Nothing like a bad boyfriend to inspire.

11:59 AM  

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