Um, this weird poem I wrote at midnight about a week ago. Tell me what you think?
Mocking Bird Black bird, white bird, Fly between the dark and light, bird Will you come to stay tonight, bird?
Sing bird, soar bird, one word more, bird, Teach your song to me, dear, poor bird.
Feathers black and feathers white, and song without my word in spite, my dream, with these, complete you might, so dream on, dreaming black and white.
Lost bird, poor bird, Rest your broken wings to soar, bird, let me help and teach me more bird.
Sing bird, soar bird, one word more bird, Teach your song to me, dear, poor bird.
Feathers black, and feathers white, and songs without my word in spite, my dream, with these, complete you might, so dream on, dreaming black and white.
Right bird, wrong bird, come to heal me with a song, bird, I'm not worthy, move along, bird.
Sing bird, soar bird, one word more bird, teach your song to me, dear, poor, bird.
Feathers black, and feathers white, and songs without my word in spite, my dream, with these, complete you might, so dream on, dreaming black and white.
Life I gave, and life I got, my wings are black, but white in spots, imperfect still, yet perfect heart perfect here, in my own part.
Sing bird, soar bird, one word more, bird, thank you for your song, dear, poor bird.
Feathers black, and feathers white, and songs without my word in spite, this dream is now complete and right, and still, I dream of black and white.
I really enjoyed reading this, I have to say. So much imagery, and such a unique style. You had a lovely almost sing-song rhythm, adn the internal rhyming and ending every line with "bird" added to this. I love the use of black and white, which emphasized the difference between the bird and the speaker. It was almost like an Ars Poetica, or as though you were writing about the difference between a person's physical state of being and her imagination and ability to write. Also, for some reason, this made me think of a song. It could have been a Beatles song, or something from sixties or seventies music (which are some of my favorite generations for music). Colorblindmartian RR me with this, adn I'm really glad he did, because this was strange and a little magical. I really enjoyed reading it.
I really enjoyed reading this, I have to say. So much imagery, and such a unique style. You had a lovely almost sing-song rhythm, adn the internal rhyming and ending every line with "bird" added to this. I love the use of black and white, which emphasized the difference between the bird and the speaker. It was almost like an Ars Poetica, or as though you were writing about the difference between a person's physical state of being and her imagination and ability to write. Also, for some reason, this made me think of a song. It could have been a Beatles song, or something from sixties or seventies music (which are some of my favorite generations for music). Colorblindmartian RR me with this, adn I'm really glad he did, because this was strange and a little magical. I really enjoyed reading it.
A small town you've never heard of before, and never will again, ID
About
I'm a poet, an artist, and sculptor, but lately I'm mostly a fantasy writer. I'm highly satirical, and I tend to get a bit too far into my characters heads, so if it seems like another person is writ.. more..