I sit in the top of the wood, my eyes closed.
Inaction, no falsifying dream
Between my hooked head and hooked feet:
Or in sleep rehearse perfect kills and eat.
The convenience of the high trees!
The air's buoyancy and the sun's ray
Are of advantage to me;
And the earth's face upward for my inspection.
My feet are locked upon the rough bark.
It took the whole of Creation
To produce my foot, my each feather:
Now I hold Creation in my foot
Or fly up, and revolve it all slowly -
I kill where I please because it is all mine.
There is no sophistry in my body:
My manners are tearing off heads -
The allotment of death.
For the one path of my flight is direct
Through the bones of the living.
No arguments assert my right:
The sun is behind me.
Nothing has changed since I began.
My eye has permitted no change.
I am going to keep things like this.
NPM - ted hughes
William Allingham (1824-1889) The Fairies UP the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren't go a-hunting For fear of little men; Wee…
for poetry month: "A great poet, a really great poet, is the most unpoetical of all creatures. But inferior poets are absolutely fascinating. The…
Today is national Draw A Bird day, so: Jacques Prévert To Make A Portrait Of A Bird First paint a cage with an open door then paint something…