Treasure Island

David McLansky

(5/24/1944 / New York City)

Night Bird


Nightly she sings
This bird of fire
Deep within the park,
Her warbled song
Of fierce desire
A spark within the dark;
A song of urgent majesty
The lilt of coming tragedy;
Nightly she sings
Her heart exposed
As if her breast
Had burst enclosed;
Her song a clarion in the night
That breaks upon the coming light;
So mad and wicked in her passion,
Her honesty, odd, and out of fashion;
It pierces hearts grown hard with age,
The barred look upward in their cage;
This howling music of the senses
Indifferent to its consequences,
Stirs the weary mind to wake
Condemning sleep, to still, partake.

Submitted: Saturday, January 19, 2013
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Night Bird by David McLansky )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

New Poems

  1. 52!, Edward Kofi Louis
  2. Between War And Freedom, Edward Kofi Louis
  3. For the first time, Joni Lenhart
  4. Slowly-so-Slowly,, Aftab Alam
  5. Her Spirit Sings for Him, Maia Padua
  6. I Am Cast To The Sky, Richard Provencher
  7. Sweet Victory, Edward Kofi Louis
  8. Gorgon With Hair Threatening, Margaret Alice Second
  9. Sober Song, Barton Sutter
  10. I Love Your Crazy Bones, Barton Sutter

Poem of the Day

poet Henry Lawson


The old year went, and the new returned, in the withering weeks of drought,
The cheque was spent that the shearer earned,
and the sheds were all cut out;
...... Read complete »

   

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]