Poem 4. Bald Eagle

You might as well be moving to America
where the Bald Eagles soar over broken toys
and abandoned car parts
looking for prey
or carrion
looking for life
to take

And will I see you as often as they appear
will you live on only
on pieces of paper
until the idea of you is all that remains
a memory
a dream
a thought

Poem 3. Avocet

Last of the A's
End of the beginning
I've nothing to say

I've nothing to say
Everything is known
I've nothing to say

Your beauty is obvious
Undisputed
I've nothing to add
I've nothing to say

Disaster!

My dad fell off a wall at the villa in Spain so we were stuck out there for weeks! I was bored enough for the week we were supposed to be there. No telly. No i-pod (I forgot my charger) No computer. Aaargh!

I really missed Martin (sorry to be soppy Mart) and my little brother made friends with a little weirdo brat from Bristol called Piddy who was either screaming at the top of his voice about Transformers or trying to look up my skirt/down my top. Mom reckons he was "going through a difficult stage" and that I wasn't helping by covering his Optimus Prime in raw egg and then baking it for ten minutes.

We got back yesterday at about two in the morning. It has been nearly a month since I put a bird poem up. I promise I will never leave you so long again.

Poem 2. Archaeopteryx

A heat haze the blue ball's wake
as I watched a family play catch
on the walk to Hollingworth Lake

I mentioned Archaeopteryx in the hide
then heard a pompous coughing voice
piping up from the other side

of course you know that wasn't actually a bird yes?

I saw behind the ducks the game go on,
the ball getting thrown higher and faster
until inevitably the ball is gone

and as a flash of blue splashes into the pool
"kingfisher?" he said as his binoculars twitched
allowing me to reply, no longer the fool

of course you know that wasn't actually a bird yes?

doubts

OMG!

Sorry, I won't use all that OMG LOL crap on here so don't panic.

I wasn't going to write on the blog. I was just going to put the poems up. But now I'm not sure. Mainly poems I think with a little bit of me blabbering on occaisionally.

Reading Rosetta talking about Holcroft Adams sent me straight back to his poems but that made me wonder should I be doing this at all. I am not good enough! Then I read Carol Ann Duffy's poem about being poet laureate. (I can't find it anywhere on the web) It was shit. It sounded like the sort of thing that gets read out on Countdown. Not as bad as the one she wrote about being banned from A level exams which was embarassing. Am I missing something? Probably. I usually am.

So what am I saying here. I suppose OK I'm rubbish but then even the poet laureate is rubbish sometimes so that's alright. And I'm only learning anyway.

Poem 1. African Darter

I wish that I could dart to Africa

see if my heart

was

in

Africa

I wish that I could dart to Africa

Just me and Mart-

in

in

Africa

What would we see?

Who could we be?

Me and Martin. Starting in Africa.