The BlueIris Semi-Nightly Poem Thread, 8/26/07

[BlueIris]

"Net Surfing 2:00 A.M."

in the great invisible electronic
library of the world
the real thing is nothing
image is all

bleary with coffee
and grief for a friend
who died the day before
I find myself staring at the screen and wondering
how many pixels it takes
to make a wood duck
or an island of black frigate birds
mating in the mangroves
their globed orange throat pouches
pulsing with birdly lust

in front of me
in a space no larger than two hands spanned
I can watch flocks of pink flamingos
migrating
stick-legged, silly-beaked
bits of egg-laying confetti
left over from the big party
of creation

there's a comfort to the sight
of so many birds. Here at least,
I think,
life outruns extinction

once in Cambridge
in the Peabody Museum
I came across the last passenger pigeon
ever sighted in America
neatly stuffed
with combed feathers and agate eyes
sitting on a fake limb in a glass case
under a card which informed me
that it had been shot
by the Harvard expedition of 1893

once I read
that Audubon himself
killed to sketch

now
in front of me
electronic snow geese
by the thousands
swirl over the marshes
of the Central Valley
now in one night
I can see
more cranes and herons
than ever fled south
before the snows of winter

I touch the screen with my fingertips
taste it with my tongue
how cold this tiny window is
that drugs me with perpetual flight
on tapes and chips and CD-ROM
the programmers have recreated paradise
and yet . . .

I pause, consider, and decide:
I strike a key
I click the mouse
I let myself forget
the crossed out phone number
the returned mail
the name he no longer answers to
the silent woods
the long darkness
the quiet
empty
sky.

—Mary Mackey

[CaliforniaPeggy]

1. How perfect...

And how very sad, my dear BlueIris...

Especially this part:

I pause, consider, and decide:
I strike a key
I click the mouse
I let myself forget
the crossed out phone number
the returned mail
the name he no longer answers to
the silent woods
the long darkness
the quiet
empty
sky.

Thank you....

I am very moved by this one...

:hug:

[The Straight Story]

2. A really nicely done poem

and a kick for it!

[BlueIris]

3. Thanks! Mary Mackey is a great writer.

[The Straight Story]

4. Here are two - one from me last night and one from the wife:

http://www.democraticunderground.com/discuss/duboard.php?az=view_all&address=105x6868555

and hers:
http://www.democraticunderground.com/discuss/duboard.php?az=view_all&address=105x6868944

[BlueIris]

7. I saw those! They're great. nt

[Callalily]

5. How very poignant. n/t

[I Have A Dream]

6. I like this, BI. I think that the Internet truly is both a means of...

escape from "real" life and a way to connect with the world. Both are OK.

[ThomCat]

8. That is an excellent poem about the distraction of grief.

When people I've loved have died I've gone through periods like that, getting amazingly distracted by something so I don't have to think about it for a while.

[BlueIris]

9. Yep. Sometimes distraction is the best gift you can give yourself in those times.

Grief bites.

[wildhorses]

10. good stuff ,tonight

'...the name he no longer answers to...'

perfect:loveya: