Monday, February 12, 2007


What is this stuff called time?
Do rare birds fly near our windows
With a beak full of it,
snatched from the sky,
to stand in our yards
in the afternoon sun
and partake of it,
even in winter when
there is precious else
to chew on?

Who is it
that so has her belly
full of it that she
has long ago
forgotten how to die?

Or worse yet
who has had so much of it
they have grown so bored
that, in mid air,
they fold their wings,
and plummet to the Earth
a small sarcophagus
of disinterested flesh
given up wondering?

Has a little bird,
head the size of the body,
said I can’t bare to start
so long a journey,
folding those yet
vestigial wings?

Do we breed
every billion years
and regret it


Don Iannone said...

Russell...good one, and yes we are on the same poetic wavelength. Enjoyed it.

Pat Paulk said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Pat Paulk said...

The spelling part of my brain's not working this morning. The eternal, or infinite question. These last two are smokin hot!!

Russell Ragsdale said...

Hi Don! I noticed we been dancing with similar partners lately. Glad you enjoyed this and thanks for the great comment.

Russell Ragsdale said...

Wow Pat! What an enthusiastic comment! I don't think the spelling part of my brain has ever achieved full functionality, by the way. My friend, Luis Benitez has written a chap book on the theme of time and I have been enjoying reading it. It is such a great theme to speculate about. So glad you liked this and thanks for the excited comment.

ozymandiaz said...

I put too much time in a pot of soup once and it bacame immortal. Oh, wait, that was thyme (and no one would eat it, thus the long life).
Time has always been, to me alt least, a point of great speculation. It is possibly mankind's greatest enigma and also our greatest limitation. This whole corporial existence filters our perception and renders our reality. Heavy (and heady) stuff.
Thanks for kick starting the 'ol brain this morning.

Russell Ragsdale said...

Thanks Ozy! Me too! Time is so perplexing and it is also a great source of themes for poetry. The jump start worked for me as I was working on the poem so I guess it worked for us both. Glad you enjoyed this and thanks for the comment, my friend.

Pris said...

This poem and the one above it are stunning! I'm glad you dropped by my blog and thus prompted me to take a peek and see what you were up to. Fantastic writing, I see!

Russell Ragsdale said...

Thanks Pris! Glad you liked these and stopped by to tell me so! I enjoyed your new poem very much. I, too, was glad I stopped by for a read. Thanks for the wonderful comments.

Sue hardy-Dawson said...

We definately don't want to relinquish are hold on life

'What is this stuff called time?
Do rare birds fly near our windows
With a beak full of it,
snatched from the sky'

love the opening a wonderful image

Russell Ragsdale said...

Thanks Sue! Yes, that image was pretty good, wasn't it? Thanks for the great comment, my sweet.