oriole

[eclipse]

A golden oriole opened my cage
briefly, six bars of a song, his black
wings eclipse those of war. I have
died six times as ennui rips another
ghost whose wrist aches for the presence
of the orioles yellow breast to unclench
the unresting fists of battle-to slip on a 
gold ring as war marries war.

i spot an owl one night on the hunt as I seek
a fire-fighter to locate the elusive flames that
burn within. Tears cross the sky, fire falls from
clouds. I have one type of madness that seeks
a sane reflection. How insignificant I seem against
the bonsai sun of the oriole's yellow plumage, this
war just another distant scream of a planet orbiting
the sun.   

[Tinker]

Hi Barry,   I have to admit that often your writing confuses me and makes me hesitant to respond.   You always serve up wonderful unique imagery.  How it all fits together is sometimes a mystery to me.   You seem to have been on an anti war theme in this and in another recent poem. But I could be totally off in my assessment, I'm made up of simpler stuff.

Love the "bonsai sun of the oriole's yellow plumage"

~~Tink  

 

[tonyv]

I, too, get a sense of war from this one. I also detect timelessness along with transience in everything, not just human life, but in folly (like war):

... this/war just another distant scream of a planet orbiting/the sun.

Tony