Izziethepixie

Indonesia

Published Work

Birdsong

concert of nature.



Between the road
and the rice field.
Jungle fowl
ca-caw-ca-caw-caw-caww!
Rising in pitch.
Perhaps a chicken?
A wild one, a savage one,
nature's undamaged one. 

Who can guess where the song came from?
Which lark, which swallow?
Who can guess the etymology of
this bird's lyrics?-
chip-chip-chip-chip-chip.
Quicker, quicker. (A quarrel?)

It's simple physics, when a hatchling falls. 
Should be dead but
chip-chiiiip-wi-wi-wik
perhaps it only broke its useless wing. 
Yes, a scornful mother. 
Yes, a grieving mother. 

In the end, we never know what song 
she will sing- who will sing?
In the end, the bird's song is the swishing 
of the palms in wind, the droplets of dew on 
the lively fronds, a knife of grass under rain. 
shhhhh-plop-plop-shhhhh




 

Birdsong

concert of nature.



Between the road
and the rice field.
Jungle fowl
ca-caw-ca-caw-caw-caww!
Rising in pitch.
Perhaps a chicken?
A wild one, a savage one,
nature's undamaged one. 

Who can guess where the song came from?
Which lark, which swallow?
Who can guess the etymology of
this bird's lyrics?-
chip-chip-chip-chip-chip.
Quicker, quicker. (A quarrel?)

It's simple physics, when a hatchling falls. 
Should be dead but
chip-chiiiip-wi-wi-wik
perhaps it only broke it's useless wing. 
Yes, a scornful mother. 
Yes, a grieving mother. 

In the end, we never know what song 
she will sing- who will sing?
In the end, the bird's song is the swishing 
of the palms in wind, the droplets of dew on 
the lively fronds, a knife of grass under rain. 
shhhhh-plop-plop-shhhhh




 

The Peace of Wild Things

The center of my earth.

There's peace in eventuality,
the way things fall.
Then there's the inbetween. 
There, I'm a ghost between two worlds, 
doing what I must but wishing 
that just once,
I wouldn't have the weight of them
both on my shoulders. 
At the inbetween I try
to find solace like a hatchling
finding her mother. 
It's so difficult. 
Everywhere I step there are 
thorns infesting the ground,
growing hopelessness,
sometimes hopefulness,
for a time when these thorns refuse 
to grow again,
when these egg shells put
themselves together again. 
The solace can be different every time - 
there's the nearly tamed wolves that sprawl on my bedroom floor,
wordless things that listen to me forever and always,
or wordful things, stained trees on a wooden shelf. 
There's the mother of all these things, my own,
her hugs are like melting chocolate,
but most often the only solace is the winding branches,
the tangled wires of the thing most familiar to me. 
Grown...

Flash Autobiography

White Swan, Black Swan

"You can be Odette." A young girl, perfectly blonde and adorable, nods her head with absolute certainty and satisfaction. A cry from the background. Blonde turns and notices another girl, with brown hair and a fair face, screaming in indignation. "Why are you sad?" She queries. She wonders if her parents were arguing too this morning, and a small connection tentatively reaches out Brunette. But for the thousandth time, a connection is broken between her and anybody as the sullen face transforms into something uglier, something not quite pathetic but meekly furious. "I'm Odettey!" She yells, then seems to realize how bad she looks.  The mulish look appears once again on her face and tears spring to her eyes as she stares at their teacher, a kind, big boned woman who always seems excited. Blonde simply gazes at her and tries to control her urge to correct the pronunciation."But you're Odile. You're Odile. She's a main character too." Something in...

Truths and Untruths

realistic, pessimistic, optimistic

i wish

my mother knew her worth

and my father did too

i wish 

he was kind

that he left us alone

i wish

i was stronger

or a genius

i wish 

so much

but i know

wishes don't come true

unless you make them.

i wish

that i never had to wish again.

Your Voice: Climate Change

to mum and mother

Mother I promise when I grow up I will help you. Yes, I'll take care of you. 

But Mother, I'm busy- with school, you know. 

Yes-but I do love you.  I can't help you now,

I have no money, no life, not yet. 

I know, yes, it's the everyday things. 

What do you expect? I'm just a kid.

I'm sorry I left the sink running,

the garbage littered on our driveway

made you buy gas driving to and from and back

bought the expensive apples- but they look perfect!

But, mother.

I do think that money is like trees

because they'll both be gone soon.