MAGPIE

 Magpie swooping like a loom

Along the yarn of the wind's boom

Up and  down from tree to tree

Oh how happy, oh how free

Pigeon Man

 I am praying for the right concept

To come into my mind

Undulating dove or was it a pigeon

That swoops down from the tree

Across the field

Looking out I cannot see 

If I am he

Or he is me

Up and down

And back and forth

Trying to stay on plan

And still push forth

Be my bird

 Don't be a turkey

Be a goose

But if you're gonna goosy gander

I'm gonna cut you loose

Don't be a chicken

Let me count on you

Darling just be my bird

You could be a little robin

You could be a blackbird bobbin

You be a Hawk in the sky

You could have an eagle eye

You could hear that chorus sing

You could even sleep on the wing

All you need to do is hear my word

You just need to be my bird

Don't you be dead as a dodo

Just nod your head while saying no, no

Don't you be an Albatross round my neck

Just climb my rigging til you reach my deck

And even if you fly hell for leather

I know that we'll still be birds of a feather

So darling just be my bird

If you want to catch the worm

You better feather your nest so we stay warm

You can be my night owl

Don't be a cuckoo on the prowl

You might walk proud like a peacock

Or Fly from the cloud as a thunder bolt shock

Out of the blue unseen

Be my bluebird Queen

Darling just be my bird

Be my kingfisher on the pond

Cast your fishhook eyes and I'll catch on

You can be my duck and I'll wash your back

It would be my luck if you washed me back

Be my lark and sing me song

When it gets dark I'll love you so long

As you just be my bird

When we grew out of love

 We grew out of love

I guess that things have changed

The purse was not enough

And your lips were strained

The colours of the dove

All this whiteness turns to grey

When we grew out of love

On the Christmas day

The murmurings were stuffed

The Turkey paved the way

I craved for oven gloves

You said that I would pay

But it was not enough

It was trodden in the clay

When we grew out of love

On that Christmas day

We shot stars above 

With our arrows' aim

And the lord he did cough

When his light was hidden away

Shine on, shine though it's tough

When things don't go your way

But we grew out of love

On that Christmas day

First cuckoo of Spring

 No I'm the first cuckoo of Spring

Will the first cuckoo of Spring please stand up

Raise your  wing, or give a wink

Look it's me, I was the first

No shut up I got here yesterday

Yesterday! What are you talking about?

I came last Tuesday

 I was here two weeks ago

They had forecast sun

But it turned out snow

I called it first

Saw the first dandilion blow

Or was it a daffodil I remember?

No perhaps that was last November

You know I can't tell these days no more

Not with climate change knocking at the door

Song of Spring

 From the hedgerows the foxes bark

And the swans like diplodocuses 

glow in the dark

And the otters paw the banks of gold

Where golden sunlight falls in folds

Raising heads and spirits high

They sing:

To live, to live and not to die

And the Willows twist and stand

Like ancients' fists grown from the land

As Alder drink from watery cup

Their roots that think the wrong way up

And branches are like wizards' sleeves

Too dry, should die, but still believe

Then from their sleeve

Green hands' new growth shoot forth 

and speak their ancient oath

They cry:

To live, to live and not to die

The Narcissi trumpet loud

Spring is come in sky and cloud

As dandelions like lions bold

Turn their yellow faces to uphold

And all the flowers to winter wave goodbye

Singing:

To live, to live and not to die

 

And the Bittern booms his bottle top song

A bottle bank of woodwind birds sing along

And chaffinch dart, and crows they swarm

Come are spring months sunny and warm

Gone are winter months so long and bitter

As Egrets are blown like paper litter

They all sing out their oath and cry

to live, to live and not to die!

 

 

 

Wild goose chase

 He went up dale, round tail

Round the garden and round the bend

In the planter, out the schooner

In the everafter, baby boomer

Tin cantatta, left out laughter

Voices chanting Karma Sutra

Dim sim barter, outward bounder

Yes he lead me on a Wild goose Chase

Goosey gander, little panda

Piecemeal sander, colonels sanders

Rabies horses, beet root beater

Baby courses, in stepwise seater

Trammled and trailed

Traipsed and trooped

Booted and suited

Even Chicken cooped

But he was smarter

Some late starter

Yes he lead me on a wild goose chase

Railing rioters

And beat up outsiders

Inward darma

Of Buddhist mantra

Goosey gander

Crispy fryer

Don't look but duck

Chinese good luck

Up town down town

In the lady's chambers

Yes he led me on a wild goose chase

Hawk Talk

 Well it needed to happen, that is for sure

The eagle has flown

But there's blood at his door

And as he does roam

There's the rub I am poor

But rich to have a home in The old Silvermore

The kestrel flew down to my hand

But quickly I saw he was a friend

And we talked like two hawks

Of life and our work 

As we walked out over paths wend

And the places we knew were many

In the hearts chapters we dropped a penny

Down the well of memory

To hear it echo what you meant to me

And I can hear your voice still

Ringing through the years

And she flew like a siren call

Like a screech through blood boiling skies

And it took a wrecking ball

To knock down all the cloud castles where I lie

And if there is some bird I must let fly

It is that of your ghost

Feather bed where I lie

Make a nest for my last post

But I cannot accept that I quit

Through this artificial bull shit

For Brexit is a lie, the truth is goodbye

Is hardest to say when you really mean it

Little Hawk

 Little hawk, little hawk, little hawk

Flying between the trees

Hovering while I walk

But which one of us is more free

Am I your shadow

Or are you mine?

Little hawk, little hawk, little hawk

Through the rain and shine

Cows in stampede

Farmers call their yell

Cattle clang and ring bells

Down the slope of green

They come pell-mell

But you little hawk, just swoop up

Into the trees and watch

So content with your skill and your speed

You can stay balanced on the edge of the cup

While it spills the whole river out

And your eyes will scan for a trace of what's strange, 

You are a hunter little hawk, out on the range

The slightest movement in a field of grass

Waiting for the shrew or the dormouse to pass

And then down like a dagger, like a streak of pain

Down with your claws to strike your game

And that is the life of the hunting hawk

All ways at work, not a wing beat in vain

Making your way across the field where I walk

Little hawk, little hawk, little hawk in the rain

Kingfisher versus Robin

Kingfisher:

I'm the king of the fishers huh

The blue, blue, electric blue

All you other bad wishers, huh

Don't know what's coming to you

I'm gonna fish hook ya, yeah

I'm gonna spit ya with my bill

Then I'm gone in a flash

This is quick cash

Money talks and I ain't got time to kill

Robin:

Well, yeah you're king of the fishers

But I'm the spirited gnome

I've got garden work

No time to talk

With a blue bird from a broken home

You think that your kingdom matters huh?

Well mine is a veritable trove

I've got treasure in every corner

And they know when the Red breast roves

KingF:

Sure, you beat your breast

You got red, they say you got spunk

But that ain't worth a damn

Against my blue crest

You better get ready to make my day punk

Carry on bleating like a little white lamb

Robin:

Hey you streak of blue

Did someone spoil your day?

You think that you're in some kind of wizard crew?

Well I don't believe in your magic, no way!

Go on get away with the other charlatans

The other medicine men with your wings of clay

Go on, live in your mud stick house

You'll find your throne crumbles

One of these days

King F

The house of Fisher is gonna live on

Robin, you better hear what I say

Take your little red song

And try to sing along

I'm running this show

In my Blue Note Café

Robin

Eat your heart out you blue goat

Old man of the river some say

Well I say its a cloak of many colours

But underneath you're just plane grey

So get over your dish water

Go and fish for your knife and spoon

There's no food in your café worth the eating (you're a scrap man)

Mr Grey, no customers are coming back soon

King F

Don't you know I'm the thunderbird

I'm like a lightening strike

I'm gonna cast you asunder

Red bird - ain't you heard

What I have said on the Mic

You will be dancing

While I throw my lightening bolt spikes

All your words are just glancing

But now my storm is gonna put an end to your like

Robin

I'm like a dancing boxer

I'm gonna jump out of your way

You know I'm fast like a red foxer

And I'm snarlin' all of the way

You fall down from the skies

Well down on the ground I'm the Winter King

Don't you know who I fight dies

When they face me in the ring

Omen Bird

Buzzard sitting on the high branch
Vulture of the corn
Hunched shoulders like a miser
Shrugging at the oncoming storm

Weather front like a spyglass
Into tomorrow's dawn
Buzzard sitting on a high branch
Calling his tidings to warn

Augur bird of all he's heard and seen
Calling to someone or something in the green
Buzzard sitting on the high branch
Waiting there with eyes keen

Buzzard sitting on a high branch
Waiting to get born
Well he hasn't got a nest of his own yet
But he's building one well shorn

Buzzard sitting on the high branch
Waiting there as the sky is torn
Thunder will come and the rain on the run
He'll still be sitting there by Sunday morn

Buzzard sitting on the high branch
Looking out into the sky
Waiting and wondering,
Wondering and a waitin'
But he never does know why

Raptor Rap 2: Marsh Harrier versus Buzzard

Marsh Harrier:
My name is the Marsh Harrier
I'm breaking the sound barrier
The sky's the limit
Of my Endorsement Yo

They say he's the Marsh Harrier
He's the pound farrier
He'll be on you in a minute
You'll be his horseshoe Hoe

Yo, yo, yo, listen up you
Horses Ho!
You know I'm the Marsh Harrier
My forces will carry ya
Over the limit, my rhymes be so doe

There ain't nothing is gonna tarry ya
I'm gonna hit and parry ya
What's going on in the basement
of this dimwit?
The lights are on
But there's nobody at home

Buzzard:
Oh yeah, I am hearing ya
horsemeat scandal in the media
You spreading like bacteria
On a horses Ho

Now I'm gonna call my clarion
Cos I only eat the carrion
And I've got my sights to carry on
So try your best to hit me Yo!

I'm the real Buzz saw
It should be against the law
How serious my rhymes are or
They are like Buzz Aldrin's roar

Yes it's one small step for man
But a giant wing span for a bird
I've flown a million miles
From Vancouver to the Grand Cooley Dam
From Ibiza to the Norfolk broads
Yo haven't you heard?
There's a real buzz around me
I'm electric, like an eel from the sea
You better watch out or I'll
Electricute yer
So plug me in to your batteries
Before I execute yer
I'm gonna power up
My power pack and parachute yer
Drop my bomb rhymes
On the mic hear?
Like on Harrier hunt
Their gonna shoot yer
Down

Hawkman

I was running one day,
Just after lunch down a closed road
But it packed a punch
I turned a left and was running for my life
But the road was a blood track
It was a bleeding Bleadney knife

The sun was kinda yellow
But I didn't know where it did go
The wind was blowing one hell of a
Lot of air around the world
And my heart was beating mellow
As the tractors fanned their fare
I was not an attractor of a single hair

Nothing seemed to notice me
I was like a ghost in this place
All the sides of a mirror reflected in my face
The muscles strung, like a bow
But I ran on, I ought a know

Until I reached a clump of trees

When I began to slow
My breath in my breast was running kinda low
I felt my legs weaken a bit
And saw in the trees a shadow
Like fluttering, the shape of a wing
Dark and foreboding in truth, but to me it was nothing
I kept moving forward when out of the blue came a blow
Some talons had struck me on the skull
The culprit something bigger than a crow

I immediately turned around, struck dumb
In shock and horror
The offending bird was swooping off into the high boughs
Of the poplar
I turned back and felt relieved
At the retreat of this winged foe
And kept on running when to my surprise
Came a second blow
This one seemed more determined
Like how a killer would go
And whatever claw or talon
Sunk into my scalp in tow

I felt atop my cranium
And brought down blood wetted finger
Just like the tips of uranium
The bullets radioactivity did linger

The bird wandered off again above
Into the heights of shadow
And I ran on not believing my luck
To be caught on the wrong side of the rainbow

No pot of gold awaited me
And I wandered down a side track
But as I scratched my head
A bloody feather there instead
Began to grow from the site of attack

Soon I was rushing faster, through
thistle and thorn trying to master
This crazy feeling inside
My arms start to itch
And I rub them and rip, little bits of skin from my scalp
Beneath my skin it shows, the sign a hawk knows
Feathers like a Jackdaw's, wings, and tail sores
And my heart in a palpitating palp

I'm rushing now like a crooner, like spooner
Through nettles and elder
My frame is bending, like a bird offending
The human form is unwrapped

I fell, stumbled, I collided with bare earth
And that marked the start of my rebirth
What used to be my arms, began to break
And muster, themselves into the wings of a raptor
My legs they retreated inside my body, and my feet, grew talons
And a great imposing ferocity

My nose began to itch as well,
And soon grew hard to my bird-like touch
I felt my eye brows and skull, changing as well
More stream-lined like a visor or such
My mouth lost its teeth and morphed into my nose
To form what was to be my beak
And I let out the most gut-wrenching yell
Now only in bird language did I speak

I screeched a hawk's high cry
A human tear still rolled from my eye
But now I knew my transformation was complete
I studied myself, and my form
The Hawkman had just been born
And what shall he do now I thought
But try to fly as I ought

I turned back down the old track
Where the remains of my shredded clothes
Lay down on their back
And I ran, or clawed or half-hopped
along the ground, until
I beat my wings faster, and faster in report
Like drums of air they beat
And the ground soon fell away from my feet
And the freedom of air, the exhilaration there
Was more than I could ever speak

And I headed back down to that darkened clump
Where that foul loathsome beast did dwell
Fully intending to vanquish my enemy
And send him straight to hell
But as I did swoon in the pale afternoon
As the wind did ruffle my feathers
No feeling had I ever experienced of being higher
Than humans could go alone or together
I realized that I was free
Free from what it meant to be human
Free from my bonds, from purgatory
Free from society's expectations
Nothing that I could hope for in life
Would have earnt me what this subtle knife
Had cut away from my sinewy brain
The pain of all desire and strife

I met my once foe in the air
We circled around with great care
Keeping our distance
Trying to figure each other out
Then I saw in her eyes
That glint, that spoke of human intelligence
Could it be that this hawk now free
Was once a human the same as me?

We flew back to her nest
Two young chicks, newly hatched
Not yet fledged
So that was what she was warning me from
Surely the measure was second to none
I felt no malice or scorn
As I looked upon these lives freshly born
How could I judge from above
This new kingdom of Human-Hawk love

Raptor Rap

I'm the Marsh harrier
Yeah I'm talking to you
You think that you're a predator
Wel you haven't seen me
I will swoop down onto ya
From out of a tree
You forgot your blind spot
Behind your head
Well you won't forget me

Yeah this is the Raptor Rap
The most incredible tap
That you've ever heard
Its better than the animals
Its better than the Birds
There ain't nothing like
A bird of prey
And now I got you in my sights
You ain't getting away

Yeah I'm the cool buzzard just
Circling in the sun
You Might think a Buzz saw
Has just cut your fun

Well I'm up in the stratosphere
But I can still see you clear
Yeah I break the glass barrier
Of this Marsh Harrier

Yeah I got talons
That you will see
But you've got no talent
So don't you mess with me

Well I know I saw you soar
Because I felt that shadow
Loom cold over my shoulder
Well I'm your shadow of doom
Mister air raider
You only prey on the dead things
Like you follow the culture of vulture

I'm the Marsh Harrier
I'm the crucifix in the sun
You look up and think bless me father
But I bring my air raid gun
I'm gonna put my cross hairs
Firmly on your head
By the time I've finished with you
You'll look the walking dead

Yeah You don't think your the only one
Who can peck out an eye
I will take a young lamb or rabbit
If their in the habit to die
I will lift them like the
Angel of death
And carry them to tomorrow's land
Where they never draw breath

Now I have respect for ya
You just keep out of my way
I'm gonna fish the Marsh lands
From Bleadney to the Weston Bay
And if you should wander farther
Into my territory,
Well I'm gonna call your bluff and
You don't wanna mess with me
Yes I'm tired of being the devil
I'm tired of being a saint
I'm tired of being whatever image of me
That you want to paint
I'm the Marsh harrier
I'm brown with a fishy taint
And I've been all around these parts now
I've got no longer to wait
I'm an enemy of God
I'm an enemy of state
As I hover above the love
And the river of hate
There is only one road out
And that's the one your gonna take
And if you mess with me brown bird
Its a one way journey you'll make

Bittern boom, Heron Ham - Rap Battle, Poetry Slam

Bittern:

You might think I’m a shy guy

Because I hide in the reeds

In the day or night

But I know what I like

You wanna pick on me,

You wanna a fight

I better warn ya this bittern bites

Yeah I’m Bittern, I’m not a kitten

I’m a Bittern, Bittern... Boom!

So I face the Heron in the ring

He throws his left,

But I clip his wing

He tries his right hook

But I see him swing

I undercut cut his beak

Look I do my thing

I’m Bittern, I ‘m not a kitten

I’m bad ass, reed lovin’ Bittern Boom

Yeah you better make room

For the Bittern, Boom!

i'm outta here!

Heron: I’m a Heron

I’m no Charlize Theron

I’m the meanest damn bird on

The levels – boast

I walk on stilt legs

I’m gonna step on you

Get out my way unless you’re a mouse or a shrew

Otherwise I’ll put my spear on you

Can you hear me true?

I’m in the Heron crew

I’m the ghost on the post

I’m a loner

But you know I like to boast

I’m a home owner

I’m king of the swamps

And I’ll own you too

I’ve got a nest you can’t guess

Where I’ve hidden it to

Bittern: Now I’m the king of where I walk

Go sleep on the wing or talk to a stork

I’m the sort bird who will be a good sport

But when I get in the ring then you’ll know you’ve been fought

I’m the Bittern, you be quittin, you be hittin’ the ground

Where I caught ya

Corked ya Heron, forked ya like Spearon

Keep your’re hair on you got your scare on

You ain’t never gonna take this dare on

Heron:Yo, yo, Yo! I’m the meanest wader in this pond

You think you’re a crusader, well I’m James Bond

I’m gonna aim yer, and maim yer like its your Swan Song

So go figure, I pull the trigger or my golden gun

I’m a shakespeare, I’m gonna walk to Meare

Gonna catch all the fishes on my beak here

What you say Bittern you don’t speak clear

You just Boom, Boom,Boom

All day long! Yeah I hear your Swan Song

Yeah I need to mute yer, Like on Bittern shoot 

I will reboot yer, shut you down, out of town

I’m on the Hunt, in pursuit of yer

You better run and hide with newts clear?

Bittern:

Yeah you're Shakespeare, well I’m Newton,

I’m in my gravity suit hear

I'm in space near, you're a disgrace hear

Like a matchstick, I'm gonna light you up

You won't have no time, to move place here

Because there's no room

When you hear my Bittern BOOM!

Hoopoe

James saw a Hoopoe
Flying high above
Funny to be on an island
And not to feel love

He caught it on his I phone
Him phone Her phone
He and She
This Hoopoe was caught
In a net whoopee!

James saw a Hoopoe
This is all I can say
It was many years ago
From here an eternity away

I call back to my past
My bird song echoes
But it will not last
As all the love
That we must one day
Let go of

The Hoopoe
Was as transitory
As a cloud shadow

He picked out its dimensions
Zoomed into its pixels
Like some wanted fellow
A felon escaped from prison

But it had no talons to speak of
Only this strange head
And then of course a distinctive call
To recognize miles and miles
Above the island of the dead

How many skulls have reverberated
This sound?
Called out for another's answer
Thinking themselves
The only other Hoopoe around

How many wood pecker skulls
have hammered the tree
And cracked like nutshells
Before they can get free?

How many skulls hear the ringing bells
How many hear the poetry?
Just the Hoopoe
Just the Hoopoe?

Archaeopteryx

The trees are awake
The fields in furrow
The brown salty earth
Is dug from the burrow
The rabbit makes his home beneath
Where vineyards grow
The wind has teeth

Then opens out the fertile plane
Where land has lain
The fossils remain
Of so many millenia ago
Epochs, eras our clocks cannot know
Of a time when dinosaurs roamed
Now slip-silted down muddy loam
It fell and slipped down a loamy flume
Within minutes the flow had covered its plume

Archaeopteryx half bird, half beast
The link between these two disparate cleats

For the benefit of those who don't know
this dinosaur had feathers
His beak did crow
Even from the other parts we know
This bird had claws from arm to toe

Unlike anything that had gone before
His skeleton opened up many a genetic door
The missing link, the piece of the chain
That would tie down Prehistoric Adam to Cain

What memories of a terror-bound world
Would be released if we could read its skull?
If the tracks and times, and minutes
Were laid down like tree rings
Or the braille-like markings of a limpets shell

Of what world might Archaeopteryx speak?
One of unimaginable beauty, one where terror peaks?
Palm trees as tall as two story buildings
Jungles alive with giant insects and snakes
All creatures inhabiting a godless ocean
With razor sharp teeth leaving devastating wakes

How might he have lived?
What aerobatic skill?
To evade the predators clutch,
Or to make his own deadly kill
How did he hone his technique?
Where was his school?
At what did he pique?
Were there extremes in plenitude?
Mountainous relief?
Did he witness an earthquake divide and fold?
Did a volcanic eruption turn his world cold?
Were there rains for days, did it hail stones?
Was there room for beauty or mere survival alone?
When and how did the butterfly come to be?
How did such a delicate beauty from the beast flee?
What of the flower, why is it here?
How can an hour be heard to chime in its ear?
What possible claim do we have to this earth?
How can we name it ours?
By whose power do we say we have worth?

On with the Show

In the cold hunted moon hanging low

Like the a hangman’s noose

Over cold harbour bridge

And the sweet summer rose

That has doffed its fair cap

To be petals to the Devil and the coal scuttle cat

To the wintery scene of the levels

Which the ice queen peruses like lovers in bondage

And the dandelion trees full of starlings

That corner the darlings

And the buds of the flower

Then as if a cruel North wind did blow

Destroys with its power

And a flutter on the breeze rise the starlings

Like dandelion seeds

And then on with the show

While bare and alone stands the tree with its branches

The summer a long way off with its rose

The winter peeling her bark in its throes

But still the Majestic dance goes on

So on with the show

The name of this Eden is chances

The sweet swelling ring of the bells

The Colonel and the Lady are dancers

So the good song of the evening goes well

And a courting goes John of the Marshes

To the town fair he has gone with the Belles

And Donna was seen with the Marquis

Whom she showed her fine, handsome hair

And the bard of the evening is laughing

And the mystery fairy folk are all there

For John with a belle is now dancing

And so long has she held his bold stare

So the evening buds are a blooming

And the morning floods are still there

But as the level’s lovers are crooning

The Silver fairy folk are in their lair

And the blood of the brothers is on the tide

The tears their mother has cried

Calls why can’t we go back to the evening

When neither a brother did care

And their wives are a-busy a-mourning

Their lives are of widowhood bare

And of the music that filled the good evening

How they wish for its love back on the air

So the fairy Folk dance on the shore line

They break the crisp foam in their hands

The Lovers come again in the evening

And the Levels is again a fine land

Life’s too short to be Bittern

Once Bittern twice shy

They dance to the tune of the reeds

These wood wind musicians of the sky

They play like the reeds their throat song

They beat the bull frogs at their own game

In time they sing along

Like a jamboree

All the same

They do impressions of Bulrushes

Standing plant tall and straight

And what do they want of paint brushes

When streaked brown and white they wait

The Battle of Ham Wall, or alternative places

Ham wall was an ancient pig battlefield. For years wild hogs had crossed tusks on this flat leafless plain. They fought over the one enormous oak that provided acorns for the winning tribe of pigs.

            However, after the great battle of Catcott moor one side, the Curly Whirlies, lost and retreated down onto this more easterly plot. Upon doing this they discovered the Oak tree and so in order to defend this they built an enormously long security wall of peat. Because the wild hogs guarded it through little windows at certain points it then became known as Ham wall.

            The Victorious tribe of Halalumi then made their offensive, because scratching around for bare bones had gone on long enough, they needed and wanted acorns. King Hal ordered the Ham wall that had now dried out over some years, to be torched. The dry summer of the arson and the surprise nature of the attack left the Curly Whirlies frying like bacon and unfortunately crackling too. All that remained was a scar of ashen ground, tusks and pork chops lying hither and tither. The odour of cooked pork and burnt offerings was not to leave the marsh for fifty years.