Maya Angelou: Caged Bird

caged_bird__hawkeye_fanmix__by_kurisuten_tan-d5eylwv

Poem of the Day: Caged Bird

BY MAYA ANGELOU
A free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wing
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn
and he names the sky his own

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

Ad Infinitum

rope_by_matt_west

Ad Infinitum

By: Michele Habel-Coffey

Dangling circle

Ad infinitum

Death and life

Circles and knots

Give me the knot

Not the circle

Give to me life

A hanging chance

Not strangling dance

I’ll hold in the breeze

If you please

Blessed with freedom

Blessed with ease

Suicide tease

Or murderous sleeze

Bitch please

On your knees

And pray

Who’s your God today?

Leanne Howe: Evidence of Red

NecessityIsTheMother-by-SharonIrla72
Artist Credit: Sharon Erla
Title: Necessity is the Mother
Mother Earth Art

Evidence of Red
by: Leanne Howe

First, night opened out.

Bodies took root from rotting salt

and seawater into evidence of red life.

Relentless waves pumped tidal air

into a single heartbeat.


In the pulp of shadow and space,water sucked our people from sleep.

That’s how it all began. At least

that’s all we can remember to tell.

It began with water and heartbeat.


In minutes we tunneled through corn woman’s navel into tinges

of moist red men and women.

Yawning, we collected our chins,

knees, breasts, and sure-footed determination.


A few thousand years before Moses parted the Red Sea, and the

God with three heads was born in the Middle East,

the Choctaw people danced

our homeland infra red.


Finally when the stranger’s arms reached to strangle the West,

Grandmother eavesdropped

on the three-faced deity

who said that chaos was coming.


When he puckered his lips and tried to kiss her she made it rain on him.

“Maybe you’ve forgotten

you were born of water and women,”

she said, walking away laughing.

Waterfalling

Richard M. Ankers - Author



Waterfall memories
Trickle away
Rise up as mist
To sprinkle the day
Scattered and displaced
From here to there
I wish I could recall
If truly I care
Droplets of something
That I ought to know
Afraid I might lose them
Just go with the flow
Cascading waters
Recycled, reclaimed
At least in the flowing
They’re living again





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