And the Lonely Bird Calls
I sit down and write a Poem
Does one follow the style
of the new crazy musical Videos?
where combinations of loony characters
beat out music on the weird instruments
for a Whirling Technicolor moon
witches on broomsticks screech
off the stars -- black cats howl
and black cauldrons boil over
with horrible stinking brews
while a black spider on a huge
web waits for his evening meal.
Disembodied -- disconnected-- mismatched
flotsam and jetsam revolve in he camera's
eye and end up in a black hole in the milky way.
What happened to poetry of Yesteryear
when romance was sought
when life moved at a calmer pace
when a handshake was a contract
honesty a need and a target.
when a family unit really meant something
and loyalty wasn't and idle word.
Its starting up again, the music and the drums
volumes of sound, decibels to crack skulls
ear drums suffer - walls split asunder
strobe lights and thunder.
Stop the world - I am selling up
investing in a far away island
where only sounds will be
The waves and the wind
and the lonely bird calls.
by Hillie Feldman September1996
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