UnderYourSpell
Gerund Whore
- Joined
- May 20, 2007
- Posts
- 15,794
A place to keep those scribbled down good lines and half finished poems before they are lost forever.
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When writing the story of your life, don't let anyone else hold the pen.
Absolutely!
I've read through, Annie and I enjoyed. They all make good sense to me. Some of them I think are finished as they are. Some others are like half finished and calling for more attention/work. Don't forsake them, they are all enjoyable.
Thanks for putting them up for us.
Existing in this place of my birth
but still I seem so far from home.
A distant memory taunts of a far off place
where I belong with others of my kind.
Like an exiled bird in a nest of cuckoos
they do not have my voice, nor sing my song.
................................................................
This body weakens now and soon,
very soon I will slip away
back to my own reality.
I hear her calling louder now.
You wrote: Feel free to comment make suggestions. I have a question. Is that right about cuckoos (in your poem)?
Regards,
The Cuckoo lays one egg in another bird's nest and when it hatches it systematically heaves the existing eggs onto it's back and tips them over the edge of the nest, so it is the only one left and the poor little mother bird half it's size struggles to feed it's ever open maw. I suppose a nest of Cuckoos isn't strictly true as there is only one in the nest but it certainly doesn't sing the song of it's foster mother!
In at least one species, that song is a key element inf the evolutionary anti-parasitism strategy
http://www.theguardian.com/science/grrlscientist/2012/nov/13/animalbehaviour-zoology