For My Dinosaurs

This is so unusual. I really love the image especially. Did you paint it? I do think the line breaks work. Now that we know the background - the burial of your parakeets - the poem is touching and has a delicate beauty that brings us into the alien-avian world. I cannot think of anything I would change.

Wow! I'm honored, Stirling. Thank you so much. The image is by Virgio Paraiso, Beinart Surreal Art Collective.

Virgo Paraiso.

I agree with Stirling and can only say wow. Amazing talent you have. A second attempt? My hat's off to you.

Jennifer, you are so sweet. I haven't seen you around Gather much in the past year!

Yes, the image does compliment your poetry well... but oh, what a loving and gorgeously crafted tribute! well done! So sorry for your loss. It is always hard when our friends leave us behind. :o) wishing you laughter

Thank you so much, Quinn. Engaging in an avian fantasy definitely helped me to miss them less.

Very cool Hilda. I am enthralled with what you are doing here. I will definitely be back with a whetstone. I'm at work right now, trying to catch up with everyone on the sly.

Ooooh, I feel honored that you sneaked away to comment! Thank you, and thanks for the recommednation.

I love the smooth transition you make in time and layers of earth. It is very beautiful. And I find it a very interesting perspective on the birds that you think of them in archaeological terms once they are dead. It is a strange kind of enduring love for the story of these birds that will be re-constructed once they are unearthed in your imagination. In a very real way you honor them much as a child might with an aggrandizement worthy of giants of an ancient world. You have given them a larger life in death.



Whetstone

Thank you for that insightful read, Atticus. I get the odd feeling that this poem reveals more about me than I thought.

Don't they all? :-)

Probably, but some are more revealing than others. Taken overall, the body of a poet's work says a LOT about them.

EXCELLENT Hilda!

Thanks for sharing this in Artistic Minds®.

Have a GREAT WEEKEND!

My pleasure, Rene.

Beautifully done!

Nice birds - creative - thanks for sharing :-))

Bernard, you seem to be a sincere appreciator of poetry. I'm going to look at your profile and see if you write it as well.

Have always had appreciation for poetry - have posted a few recently - more to follow in time - sure come on over you are welcome anytime :-))

I read and commented on one of your poems. That, together with your icon, suggest that you might enjoy The Surreal Circus.

Nice!

Thank you, Darin. I see that you are a bird-lover as well.

very imaginative Hilda, I love the connection that you make between your own beloved and dearly departed pets and the earliest bird in evolution.

The picture goes really well with the poem too. I also am inspired, as you know, by various surreal images!

Thanks for reading, Boris. As I'm sure you know, most scientists now consider birds and dinosaurs to be the same! (Birds are simply the dinosaurs that didn't go extinct).

Oh Hi Hilda. I love this and missed it weeks ago. Birds are so sweet as pets, and it is so sad when they leave. Had two blue parakeets once.

I tend to prefer line breaks, but am not sure how you feel about that.

I think what you've written and how you've expressed the birds, your love for them, their departing and their connection to their ancient ancestry is beautiful.

I just prefer more line breaks.

I'm editing, now, Kathryn. Thanks for the suggestions!

oh and I just saw your reply on Sanctuary. Your ear is better than you think. You have a gift; it is obvious from your love of art works.

This poem is growing seriously weird. I'm going to blame whoever recommended A.R. Ammons to me.

weird is good. it is our subconscious sometimes, n'est-ce pas? My subconscious rules me. well. not really. but it is my guide.

Yes, it's an excellent guide, though it must be translated.

What a very wonderful poem, Hilda... gentle, personal, and so respectful of every aspect of these birds. I very much enjoyed everyone's feedback here, but doesn't Atticus* have an amazing way of reaching out and grasping/rendering the way the layers of the poem reach simultaneously into the jurassic past and your very refined grasp of these moments in the present. Very lovely blend of sensate texture and imagery.

Thank you so much for your thoughtful comment, Anne. I agree that Atticus is an excellent reader and critic.

Also, Anne, I've changed the second stanza substantially since everyone else read this. I'm wondering if you could give me your reading of the second stanza so I can see if I'm getting my point across.

I'm thinking now, that I may have read the poem as being more personally reflective than it was meant to be. I see the top stanza as taking place at night, and at first saw the bottom stanza being played-out in the yellow light of late day because of the reference to shifting shadows and "Sun"-room... and I liked the balance of both night and the flickering warm light of day. But now I'm starting to see the second stanza as also being at night, and the shadows are flickering and dissolving as shadows do in candle-light. No matter how you look at it though, I love that first line of the second stanza, as well as the last two lines which I find to be almost more wonderful than words can say. There's such warm humility as well as an astute elegance to the two-finger typing line (being a two finger typist myself, I relate to this dearly), and then in one graceful gesture, you go from this personal note to offering up something that seems quite profound to the whole world... and I find this gesture incredibly beautiful.

The middle two lines also offer wonderful imagery very well rendered (IMHO)... I love the image of bird as "feathered dervish" scolding. But if I get thrown-off at all, it's because I want to read these things as personal to you, but the suit of tiny black and white feathers tells me that, at least this part, pertains more to the bird-like being in the painting than to your own physical being. However, if I look at how the whole poem fits together, there's a mysticism and other-worldliness about it which has me convinced that the mythic quality to the bird-being is very right for the poem. This just tells me how I enjoy that experience akin to hands-on personal more than standing at a distance to perceive the creative beauty of, say, an exceptional painting or performance. But from that outside perspective, I think you've done a stellar job of this whole poem.

Do you feel happy with the poem at this point? Does it convey what you intended?

Being a scientist, I seldom feel that anything written is "done," but I'm satisfied with my first stab. (I'll need to read it again in 6 months to be sure).

Thank you for spending the time to give me this detailed reading. I didn't really think about whether the poem happened during the day or night, but of course the cellar would be dark.

I think the second stanza may still be confusing because the parakeet (who is in reality a dinosaur, like all birds) sees the man sitting at the desk (probably my animus) as a dinosaur as well-- a predatory one. The last line is meant to be both thought by the parakeet and typed by the man.

I like the fact that you use the words humility, mythic quality and other-worldliness-- I was definitely going for that feeling. Thank you again for taking the time to go through this so thoroughly!

What a delightful read, Hilda! Well done!!

Thank you, Tigger.

Hilda~ I cannot add anything more to what has already been said except to say this is exquisite, and took my breath away on first reading. The artwork is amazing, and if it were me, I would click on the image and place it in the poem at the end. I am such a fan of visuals with poems, I use my photography a lot in my poem.
All that being said, on a second reading, and after reading the comments I realized it was about the loss of your parakeets, I realized I was off in what I read into it.

But I liked what I thought at first just the same. To me, some poetry is all about the visual it evoked within each individual that reads it, that is half the beauty of poetry to me.

Thank you for your comment, Rose! I suspect that your first reading was very accurate. I almost never write about personal experiences alone-- I try to use them as a spring board for something larger, and I think you caught that.

I'm thinking of ancient lines, crevices revealed when rock shatters apart.

A fascinatiing imagery of your subject, Hilda. Each line superb.

As it happens next week we are taking gifts of clay dinosaurs to grandchildren.
(Not easy to wrap a dino's tail!)

This poem was inspired by a dream that my parakeets' bones washed down into our earth cellar and became embedded in the walls. As you probably are aware, birds and dinosaurs are no longer considered to be separate lineages.

"Each line superb."

You've made my week, Barbary. I must add a nod to James Ciriaco, who coached me through the endless revisions of this.

PS: From my experience in wrapping and mailing Southwestern Kachina dolls-- treat the tail like a separate object and wrap it in bubble wrap so it doesn't break off!

What an interesting play of words! Nicely done!

You may be the first person to see the ending twist. You're a perceptive reader, Cassie!

Hello-

Just stopped by to read again.

Thank you!

It took me until now to find this poem. But sometimes I am like that...everything needs its season. I love the poem. You really are there in personal and private stairwell winding from loft to cellar...tucked away from mere humans. Soulish (poetry). It takes a bit of attention to unwrap. Perfect.

You got it, Bill! Nice work. I aim to write in a very specific poetic space-- a space which humans do not occupy except as products of evolution, and where our fellow sentient beings are our equals.

You are right, Hilda. Birds are the only surviving dinosaurs. Love your poem. Our Australian magpies sing to me every day waiting to be fed. Kookaburras and currawongs come, too. I talk to them and they talk to me.

Whenever I see a wet bird, I think they look exactly like a dinosaur! Some birds even have claws on their wing joints.

That is so intense and wonderful.

Thank you, Mike. I was trying to get at the timeless relationship of humans and animals.

Thank you for reading and recommending, Kitty. You're not the only one who tries to mind-meld with animals!