Poets On Poetry - Blog Posts

Words by me, inspired by the bookplate (right) by Robert Budzinski from “Das Exlibris der Dame”, Richard Braungart, 1923. // ©thisisafault.

"The Sparrow in my Head"

There is a little sparrow in my head that likes to cause a mess.

It distracts me with its shrill screeching

that bounces against and vibrates my skull.

It flaps its tiny wings and causes a flurry in my head, like a feral hurricane.

It drills against my brain and causes pulsing migraines

and sometimes it nips at my eyeballs.

There is a little sparrow in my head

Shackled and caged behind bars of steel.

It is bruised,broken and battered

And its wings are clipped.

To set it free somebody will have to crack open my skull.

"It's not fair", cries the sparrow.

"Oh but it is fair", I reply,

"Just like, a head for a head,

a tail for a tail,

an eye for an eye,

and your freedom for mine."

The little sparrow gives a sad chirp and droops its wee head.

"Do not despair, little bird", I consol,

"One day you'll be able to fly,

high above, higher than the sky.

For just like in the circle of life,

the day your life begins,

is the day mine ends.

So chin up and wait some more,

just a little more time."

There is a little sparrow in my head that weeps tears of patience.

There is nothing else it can do.

~Me

*Inspired by Bluebird by Charles Bukowski*

poetry every day. day 8

This is June

a collaboration of all generations

we came together to suffer

i spent my days awake in my bedroom

calling and crying to my mother

we all prayed to god

but we said the wrong name

i prayed that nothing will be the same as early days

we scream loud to the rich deaf choir

as they sleep soundly in the quiet

i sometimes wish i wasn’t so blind

for i am holding back my power in my vulnerable times

this love isn’t defiant

but true love ends in violence

but this is life

this is june

this is fine

this is youth.

POETRY every DAY. Day 6

friend.

she waited for me for hours

sat in a field pulling apart the flowers

and im sure you could look at that as a metaphor

but nothing is that serious when it’s about her

we talked about her boyfriend and how she liked girls

we talked about how i feel disconnected from the world

we laughed till our jaws were in pain

but i knew then life wouldn’t be the same

and we smoked till our lungs turned sour

we didn’t realise the time

we had been there for hours

talking about life

and how we wanted to leave

it felt weird as my heart was on my sleeve

and i finally felt like i could breathe.

we said our goodbyes

and now i’m home

and for the first time i don’t feel so alone

// went outside for the first time for days to sit in a field with a friend (social distanced obvs) and we spoke for hours about almost everything. dark deep stuff but in a positive light. i feel so normal now.