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Bird flue mutates
To the human
In our island prison
The world looks on
We are too late
What’s left of reason
You who gape at us
As we run amok
No flock this havoc
Despair our chaos
How did we go wrong
Gods & Goddesses
Come with the Titans
Wars of Cronus
Who turned away from us
Failed creatures of their sport
To an earth now split apart
To a hand that pens
Separation framed in nothingness
Now writes in dust.
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|Reviewed by Sage Sweetwater
|To be segregated from one another I suppose can have its benefits and rewards. It is the reason why we are quarantined that is disturbing to me...I describe it like this, a passage in my novel THE BUCKSKIN SKIRT OAR TRAVELER. I am perhaps making a remedy from nature to Quarantine nature until it can safely be put back into place respectfully...this is actually referring to the West Nile virus bird flu and this poem reminds us of the mean-spirited and contagious, poisoned condition and religious war destruction also of that of the humankind that are imprisoned due to spite, hatred, demanding religious obedience, jealousy, and overall prejudice. Here is the metaphor in my excerpt:
"The royal female bird is chock-full of confidence--not overconfident, but the kind of confidence that blinds the predator with looming disaster--that of the West Nile virus and all other curses laid down to alter their environment, contributing to their early extinction.
"The royal female bird is the mascot to the Loireag, the water sprites who are helpful to women and weavers. The sylphs use a fogger to sanitize the air when it is all settled. Then the spirits of the Ancient Order of Druidesses begin repairing the damaged tree cavities where the *FalconettiBrisu have been nesting. They put in artificial plastic cavities camouflaged to fit into the forest, and they put in Plaster of Paris imitation nest to protect the birds' nest from the predators, removing bird eggs to be put in an incubator, then returning the fledglings to the original nests when it is all settled."
*The FalconettiBrisu are predator birds that do not exist yet but only in the land of the fays. They will pull out humans' fingernails and gouge their eyes. They are falcon mastered by they Fachan, the horrible monster who tortures everyone unfortunate enough to meet him."
Poetry Life & Times Cover Interview December 2007 Issue with Sage Sweetwater & Finnur Bjarki
PL&T Editor Robin Ouzman-Hislop
Co-Editor Amparo Arrospide
|Reviewed by Karen Vanderlaan
|i like the rhythm of this and the thought provoking way of youor words|