Tag Archives: bird

and this one…i call beautiful

when an unexpected experience leads you to unravelling your mind in such a way that you can’t really stay the same…

 

flawless blue eyes

squeezed light at her

pools of magnitude

direct and clear

 

the radiant ocean gaze

came to rest

 

a kindness bird

baring a heart of gold

sipping from her hot cup

 

an offering

that took her

too close to the sun

 

and then

she melted

 

SONY DSC

more art ? http://www.artofkundalini.com

Advertisements

Sand and Feathers

Feet and art make I (n) den tati on

the earth

the heart

is large and deep thinking

the hull, buoyant and safe

the smile

sometimes steel sometimes butter

squeezes  in between words

like itatoron

do flying fish have feathers

?

Owls tell me father’s secret

his love is not hollow noise

but

like air and sand

his guidance, life’s lion

like north point

fascinating,

magnetic, magnifi  (sent)

to me

.

Big GOD

or bird

fear (ce)

feet and feathers

His heart is my boat

.

In

the

beginning

My father’s

hand

(s)

and

feathers

Sticky Beak

Sticky

little, baby beak

wee, yellow, peeky beak

 .

.

Orange curiosity,

.

hot blade

ferocity.

.

.

Little beak

tried to speak,

only firey plumes.

 .

Billow forth a punch of smoke

grey, thick

nearly choke

.

.

dirty, sooty, ashy toes

charred, tired, naughty nose.

.

.

Stickybeak

took a peek

something sleeping

dark

d

o

w

n

deep

Backyard In The Morning When Thinking About My Mum

 

Blue dog has brown eyes

Love is a fact.

 

Sneaky birds stand tall.

 

Blue dog sniffs the tree, scratches with her paw,

then

stretching she turns her attention to froth at

the bottom of my cup.

 

SIGH

 

Clothes relax on the line

 

broken gun

 

just colour now and fluorescent lizard

languid,

on his back

somehow intact.

 

Feathered people talk and sing

 

a tired Babylon fell today.

 

What’s up there in the purple tree?

green leaves?

Secrets?

 

Not really, not if I stretch my legs and climb.

 

Foliage like spoons or fingers…..

 

Sip

it.

 

I am the morning

nothing is really still.

 

The air is a soupy book.

 

Some say god made it

I say,

It was my Mum.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

little bird


little bird with yellow beak

sits in empty frangipanni tree

perfect

it trips and hops

is happy

i am happy

to see this thing….the life,

and beautiful COLOUR

so inviting that my body wants to die and fall apart

to be the bird, the beak

and the tree.