The old jaggernaut's dream
Filled brain juice to the brim
Withstand this tale's grim
So no more you'd be trapped by the gleam
Once, spoke a hummingbird, blaring clickity and clackity throbs:
"You shall not prevail better than my voice."
The bird hums with an echo so loud, jollying bold brazen yaps,
Letting the whole forest hear her obnoxious melodies
......
We can harvest well,
But we must plant our saplings;
We can build up luck.
What more should I do?
To be twined all time,
Toxic and suicidal,
Never I trimmed to lock
Your scent in my beard.
Still you hurry every time.
What more should I do?
I cut my nails with fear
To never hurt you whilst
My laborious lips fondle.
......
Sitting on the wire she glooms and alone
‘Down forth’ all beckon,
‘Bits of bread are there
Pick up lest the other demands share’.
The lame bird flaps in the air
Rolling down from her breast a white feather,
Pecking a bit with a sense
The escorts saving by defence.
A hunter hits like the lightning from the blue
None finds out yet its clue,
......
God what a mess,
My head is spinning,
Each day more stress,
Am I still winning?
Wall street crashing,
The economy near stall,
The media’s constant bashing,
Pelosi’s new curve ball.
......
We can harvest well,
But we must plant our saplings;
We can build up luck.
The old jaggernaut's dream
Filled brain juice to the brim
Withstand this tale's grim
So no more you'd be trapped by the gleam
Once, spoke a hummingbird, blaring clickity and clackity throbs:
"You shall not prevail better than my voice."
The bird hums with an echo so loud, jollying bold brazen yaps,
Letting the whole forest hear her obnoxious melodies
......
They took our country from us,
They took our lands from us.
Yet could not chain our voice,
Nor silence freedom's poise.
They burnt our homes to dust,
They crushed our dreams unjust.
But still we rise with flame,
With liberty in name.
......
The Thunderbird flailed it's wings
in annoyance that it's lover was gone too long.
The ground shook in retort
and rocks toppled down the mountains
birthing an angry landslide
that echoed with anguish down the slopes.
The Thunderbird shrieked it's loudest wail,
in heartache of it's lost love.
The Heavens grew dimmer in somber spirits
......
To kill or not the mockingbird?
This is absurd!
Remarked the boy.
Keeps me awake,
With the noise it makes,
Crying for love.
It's not a robin red.
Her voice is dread.
......