Baby Bird Dying (Edited)

Bald, baby bird dying -
dead - I hear your sisters
calling. featherless and naked -
pure - you left us crying.

The ridges of your feet
clawed at the sky - your
wings destined to fly - but
they never did, did they?

You will be a legend,
bald, baby bird dying -
flight of your life -
your soul in flight.

And the courage you had
to leap - we saw it
in your eyes - blue -
with a cloudy overcast.

Bald, baby bird dying -
I hear your sisters calling,
like an orchestra they sound -
and it's all for you.

The free spirits have long
awaited a warrior -
one brave enough to
take
the
fall.

In death, the wind shall
Grace you. It will embrace
your teaching - of faith - and
march into windy depths like
an army of invisible thoughts.

Bald, baby bird dying -
I hear your sisters calling -
and they sing of love,
of truth, of courage and you
as the trees comes bearing
down.

Hm.

Your rhythm here is good, and I think you've got a compelling subject.

It just leaves me wanting you to explore this a little more. You have the emotion of the first blush--a dying animal tugs your audience forward. But then what? It seems to me that you have the perfect opportunity to open this up as a metaphor for something, to pull the reader under along with you and delve deep enough that you can make a more profound connection than you already have.

The pacing is good here, and the imagery is striking (though I think you could expand on your vocabulary a little bit and widen your focus enough to throw in a few good metaphors). You just need more of it. Don't leave it at an event. Change it into something more.

Nice work, in any case!

I had the same feeling, Shepherd. ^^ I think I might add onto this.

Hi Jon! Nice poem you have here! Aside from what Shepherd said, I can see only two little flaws. Perhaps not flaws, but bruises, or weak spots. In any even ...

Jon wrote:Bald, baby bird dying -
dead - I hear your sisters
calling. featherless and naked -
pure - you left us crying.

On the third line, you start a new sentence with the word "featherless." Since you capitalize the beginnings of all the other sentences in the poem, you should probably do the same here. That is, unless you really meant for the words "calling" and "featherless" to be separated by a hyphen; in that case, the lack of capitalization is fine. The enjambment seemed kind of funky, though. I hear your sisters calling Why is the break so random between "sisters" and "calling"?

Jon wrote:The ridges of your feet
clawed at the sky - your
wings destined to fly - but
they never did, did they?

The enjambment problem is amplified a bit here. Also, the use of the word "destined" seems kind of off to me. Perhaps try: "Your/ wings were destined to fly."

I hope my rambling helps a bit. You have a great poem here, and I'd like to see you expand it!

- Abigail

Thankyou, guys! I tried to flesh it out some, make it more...more. ^_^


-Jon

I REALLY loved this poem! It actually gave me chills. Very strong imagery, and excellent use of that image to illustrate your meaning. Awesome job!

You have expanded this excellently.

I don't think I have anything else to say! Great work!

Thanks, Shepard!


-Jon