The barrier of herself

The bird

who is not a bird

but has mosaic feathers

dipped in tar

this bird

who is neither oil nor waterproof

sinks

and then

licked by white fire

lent by God or fishermen

some happen-chance salvation of sorts

this bird

rises as phoenican ships will be

swallowed momentarily by

cresting waves the size of

mountains

bursts with light only matched

by a lifting of spirit into cloud

casting her netted permanance

against rush and churn

of life fighting with itself

this bird

who now possesses compass and ink

soars in oxygen and silence

this bird

who spent years

fearing how

instinctively breaks through

the barrier of herself

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40 thoughts on “The barrier of herself

      1. Human nature I guess. But we need both kinds of poetry. Life isn’t all sweetness and light. (I wonder if we’d want it to be.) You’re a versatile poet, as you write of all sides of life with acute perception. Hard to do! πŸ’“πŸ’•

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      1. I hope you have not stopped. The last post disturbed I that you sounded defeated.
        My dear I have lived 60 years now and the one thing I have learned is that there are very definite times when you must say Fuck It and do for you and only you. I hope this reaches you for I want you to continue as you encourage me.
        Sincerely.
        Mortoch/Tim

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