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06 Jan 2012 1,138 views
 
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photoblog image Nostalgism: The Day The Birds Committed Suicide

Nostalgism: The Day The Birds Committed Suicide

 

...the cloud came from nowhere

dark

         pregnant

                           least expected

it rained black droplets of despair day after day

night after sleepless night

until the birds flew off my chest

for what will be their final flight

as final as closed eyelids... 

 

Facebook Nostalgia is HERE 

Nostalgism: The Day The Birds Committed Suicide

 

...the cloud came from nowhere

dark

         pregnant

                           least expected

it rained black droplets of despair day after day

night after sleepless night

until the birds flew off my chest

for what will be their final flight

as final as closed eyelids... 

 

Facebook Nostalgia is HERE 

comments (11)

  • Ray
  • Thailand
  • 6 Jan 2012, 03:48
Perhaps not suicide...

Possibly an erroneous flightplan, based on defective intel from the Weather Bureau...


Could be a film script buried in this!
vz-nostalgia: Erroneous flight plan... Quite possible. The intuition of being failed them. They should have stayed inside my chest.

The film script is not buried, Ray. It's right here, under your fingertips. Perhaps, waiting to be discovered by its own Dali and Bunuel. smile
They fell from the sky and hit the ground like stones.
The pitch black blindness behind their eyes
gave nothing away of their memories of spring thaws,
summer berries, and sunrise serenades.
Under your fingertips you could feel
the pin-pricks of their tiny claws,
imprints left on your chest
as they left you one last time.
You felt them, each and every one,
as though farewell kisses upon your heart.
But now, on the ground, once swift and fragile wings,
broken angels fallen from the heaven of blue skies and warm winds,
whisper ever so silently
of broken promises and fallen dreams...
vz-nostalgia: :
...awakened by the breath of spring
the birds of hope and joy flew off not knowing
they are misled, betrayed and destined to be murdered
one by one
they hit the ground like winged droplets of black rain
of broken promises and fallen dreams...
  • Louis
  • South Africa
  • 6 Jan 2012, 09:38
... as in a rush they departed
so entered in pitter patter
and slight scratchy sound
of nails on tiles
announcing the black dog
that took up residence
with a sigh of content
on a chest so broad.
vz-nostalgia: Now, tell me honestly, Louis, how big was this bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from teh Constantia Estate, when you started writing the poem, and how much of it left, when you finished. smile
  • eva
  • United Kingdom
  • 6 Jan 2012, 10:08
Nah! I bet they are flying downwards in a mating ritual dance, or trying a murmuration..I hope they turn before they crash ;-)
vz-nostalgia: :
Eva: I hope they turn before they crash
VZ: Well, they didn't. They thought they're on the way to heaven, instead they got straight into hell.
  • Linda
  • United Kingdom
  • 6 Jan 2012, 14:22
The light of dark clouds lifted,
Letting the depressive little black demons with wings,
fly from your mind and soul,
the light so bright,
blinds their vision,
They no longer exist,
Nightmares over,
Let sweet dreams begin.
vz-nostalgia: :
...show me the way
where I can find
that wonderful Light
so the nightmares are over
and the little black demons
are never back...
Why such pessimism Victor. These birds on the wing are doing what comes naturally to them ... having fun.
vz-nostalgia: :
Richard: These birds on the wing are doing what comes naturally to them ...
VZ: So am I, Richard.
  • Chad Doveton
  • Where latitude and longitude meet.
  • 6 Jan 2012, 15:58
This is magical and dreamy.
vz-nostalgia: Every latitude meets every longitude at some point, Chad. You give us an incomplete information about your whereabouts. smile
  • Louis
  • South Africa
  • 12 Jan 2012, 10:12
As I am a definite wine lover, I don't drink a glass in the two minutes it took to sass the blackdog on you smile My taste of wine leans towards Shiraz (Syrah) and Pinotage. A nice cold Sauvignon Blanc on a warm day goes down well. It so happens that I have a 1978 Groot Constantia Sauvignon Blanc in my cupboard cellar.
vz-nostalgia: Ah, in this case one day you might have a surprise visitor, Louis. I'm a big fan of Syrah myself. A preferred one comes from a small vineyard of teh McManic Estate in California, it's among my favorites: affordable and of an amazing taste pallette. My second choice is Red Bicyclette Syrah from the South of France: oh... simply delicious. smile
  • saule zuk
  • United Kingdom
  • 11 Feb 2012, 12:55
wow, so poetic....
vz-nostalgia: Can the act of suicide be poetic, Ms. Saule? Say, when a Russian poet Sergei Esenin killed himself at the age of 30, and while dying wrote his last poem with his own blood running from the wound, was it poetic?
  • saule zuk
  • United Kingdom
  • 13 Feb 2012, 13:23
Yes, I think the act of suicide can be poetic and can be artistic. I think it was poetic how Sergei Esenin killed himself and his last poem written with his blood probably is quite strong work, at least by the energy he put in to it. I am not denying- it is a tragedy that he killed himself, it is sad, but it is poetic the way he did it. At the end of the day, he was a poet.

Though this your work, for me has more links to 2011 new years evening when a certain species of birds and fishes died/ I think it is hard to believe media why they have died all at once and at that time, but for me it is poetic to think that they decided to commit a suicide. For me, it is a poetic way to say, that something very very wrong is going on in the world, that even animals decide to commit suicide rather than stay and watch the absurd and tragic play. But thats just my way of seeing.
vz-nostalgia: :
That's what Esenin wrote after he cut his wrists and before he hung himself in a hotel room:
Goodbye, my friend, goodbye
My love, you are in my heart.
It was preordained we should part
And be reunited by and by.
Goodbye: no handshake to endure.
Let's have no sadness — furrowed brow.
There's nothing new in dying now
Though living is no newer.

As Gabriel Garcia Marquez said through one of his characters in "Love In The Time Of Cholera": "It is a pity to still find a suicide that is not for love." smile
wonderful image! Have you seen The Solitude of Ravens by Masahisa Fukase?
vz-nostalgia: I haven't. Off to google it.
Oh my... $1405 on Amazon.com, plus $3.99 shipping. smile
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