White Birds and Vipers
Investing in Diapers
She crawls towards the light
And cries out the night
'I'm not that much into Right'
So you write, right?
'No I... Right Write-
But do not know if I Write Right,
Only when I ... Write-Write'
'Right? , Right? '
These damn birds in the twilight
Had to be white-white
I'm losing your eyesight
In the Tokugawa Era:
-In the Ancient Pond
The Frogs Jump and they Enter
The Sound of Water.-
- - Matsuo Basho (translation by Charles Monroe)
Though blurred in the vision
Return in position
'Them White Birds Fur Dinna'
'They burn in the kitchen-
Now quitin' yal bitchin! '
I Rummage with ramesh
And rubbish the language
Wordsmiths with Wordsworth
The Woodworks of Wordsworks
We heard how the word works
The Ink-smiths with pink slips
The finest of bean dips
With chips from long trips
Of lands from afar.
I am boulevard night decor
Graffiti on Anti-Graffiti
I am but imagined words;
I am the White night-bird.
3.4.14 2: 57am
Los Angeles, California
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Comments about this poem (Birdus Blancus by Charles Monroe )
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
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