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Array ( [sid] => 85132 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Strange Birds [time] => 2005-02-21 01:37:45 [hometext] => For Terri, Lorelei and all the ghosts of our past [bodytext] => You can see the way I've changed
in my words,
from the flight of the Phoenix
to the blue sadness sprinting across my heart.
I have laid bare my heart and soul for
beautiful stangers
the best kind of "strange",
mystical and enticing
these strange birds.
What's the origin of this flock I fly with?
From "dance hall days"
we gathered among the shadows,
among the crayon red hair and shaved heads
spikes and chains.
Villains in a dream state
of who's above and who's below
societies slithery belly.
Morbid clowns with Joker's smile,
Tinker Bell thrash in a red Kharmen Gia
drinking and drugging
will we be punk forever?
We talked with hushed voices
among the tombstones
careful not to wake the dead.
We enveloped ourselves in a
Dark kind of romance
a gothic parade, if you will.
I still dream of those days,
more often than most
and remember a time of innocence,
not so innocent, though, were we. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 159 [topic] => 55 [informant] => Nardo [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => dedicatedpoems )

Strange Birds

Contributed by Nardo on Monday, 21st February 2005 @ 01:37:45 AM in AEST
Topic: dedicatedpoems

You can see the way I've changed
in my words,
from the flight of the Phoenix
to the blue sadness sprinting across my heart.
I have laid bare my heart and soul for
beautiful stangers
the best kind of "strange",
mystical and enticing
these strange birds.
What's the origin of this flock I fly with?
From "dance hall days"
we gathered among the shadows,
among the crayon red hair and shaved heads
spikes and chains.
Villains in a dream state
of who's above and who's below
societies slithery belly.
Morbid clowns with Joker's smile,
Tinker Bell thrash in a red Kharmen Gia
drinking and drugging
will we be punk forever?
We talked with hushed voices
among the tombstones
careful not to wake the dead.
We enveloped ourselves in a
Dark kind of romance
a gothic parade, if you will.
I still dream of those days,
more often than most
and remember a time of innocence,
not so innocent, though, were we.

Copyright © Nardo ... [ 2005-02-21 01:37:45]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Strange Birds (User Rating: 1 )
by zenmind on Wednesday, 23rd February 2005 @ 07:06:25 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Wow, this is a very powerful, emotional, and nastalgic poem. You use the greatest descriptions in here.

You can see the way I've changed
in my words,
from the flight of the Phoenix
to the blue sadness sprinting across my heart.
I have laid bare my heart and soul for
beautiful stangers

This is just great great great. It feels very deep and profound, meaningful. It feels like you are throwing yourself out in the open, fearless, for everyone to see.

will we be punk forever?

I like the inquiring/introspective feeling here. I liked where this was placed in the poem. Questions always make poems feel honest and alive for some reason.

We talked with hushed voices
among the tombstones
careful not to wake the dead.
We enveloped ourselves in a
Dark kind of romance
a gothic parade, if you will.
I still dream of those days,
more often than most
and remember a time of innocence,
not so innocent, though, were we.

Great description. Very insightful, and plus you described the punk scene very well, in a way that we can all understand, but also in a way that is personally meaningful for you. I understand what it is like to be heavily involved in a "scene". I've been going to raves since I was 14, so in my teens I heavily identified myself as a "raver". In my later teens I realized that I am who I am, and I think it is best not to define yourself, because that would be putting yourself in a box, "I am this", and that is also putting limits on yourself, because to say that "I am this" is to say that "I am not that"----definitions create limits and it is best to just be who you are. Still, I look back at my "raver" days, very fondly, with gratitude that I got to meet the people that I did, and that I got to experience the crazy insane parties and late nights, staying up on who knows what, being young, and dancing my ass off. Good times. I think you expressed those feelings, in your own unique words, with tthis poem.

Be True,
zenmind

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