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    dots Submission Name: Blessingdots

    Author: saartha
    ASL Info:    27/F/US
    Elite Ratio:    4.05 - 230/385/134
    Words: 80
    Class/Type: Poetry/Serious
    Total Views: 677
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 563

        Heart of Jesus, once in agony,
    have mercy on the dying.
    -Catholic Prayer for the Dying

    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.


    My father strangled a bird
    quietly, calm as gravity,
    there in the garden. He bent
    as if praying to the torqued wing
    reddening his hand.

    The night hunkered down on the screaming
    wildness, on the kicking legs, the abrupt
    and awe-filled silence. I watched him
    watch the beak open, close,
    like rippling lake water.

    I loved him, the mercy
    of his heavy knuckles, the kindly
    indifferent expression.

    He closed the beak like a priest
    closes the eyes.

    Submitted on 2010-08-30 17:30:42     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      when it's too painful to live, will someone cut the cord, sever the connection? have mercy...let me die with dignity...

    a thankful bird...

    your poetry is so natural...such depth to the feeling it conveys---

    nothing feels forced about it...and the last two lines close "this beak" so nicely.

    | Posted on 2012-03-04 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ]
      I've raised many animals from near-death or malnutrition, and seen an equal number peaceably die.

    Every single time felt like an arrow driven deep inside, no matter how much of a professional demeanour I was meant to keep.

    Still, it's a balance. Life and death. The wheel. And for some, it needs to fully turn over, as compassionately as one can give it.
    | Posted on 2010-09-16 00:00:00 | by trinityfinger | [ Reply to This ]
      Mercy killings are such a dreadful kind of sweet. It takes a strong person to not just simply turn away.

    This makes me think of 'Of Mice and Men', for how painful it is to read, yet how life-affirming, too. But hollow life-affirming.

    The night hunkered down, I love that, and calm as gravity, a lot of the lines. They're weighted lines. It shows that you took time choosing each word, weighing them up, making sure they stood strong and clear. This has come really good.

    I think this an excellent poem.


    | Posted on 2010-09-01 00:00:00 | by AlyRose | [ Reply to This ]
      I have much simpathy with your poem. I have as a youngster vanquished many a thousand birds to practise my shooting skills and feed my many cats on our family farm without any remorse.

    It came to my aid in my 26 years in the SADF (South African Defence Force - Army Infantry Instruction and later in Intelligence) during our long Border Wars against Russian and Cuban Communism invasions from 1975 in the Caprivi and Angola onwards and soforth.

    Today I cannot harm anything and love nature and people in Jesus the Christ. There are sometime things that are stranger than Fiction in our ways but it should always end up with Him.
    luv u joachim.
    | Posted on 2010-09-01 00:00:00 | by Joachim | [ Reply to This ]
      This reminds me of a specific memory in which I found a nest of baby birds. I was too young to realize the consequences of touching them. I was so excited that I went and told my grandfather about them, how I had held them but that it was okay, I put them back. He told me to show him where I had found the nest and upon returning we found the babies had been kicked out of their nest. My human smell had caused their mother to reject them. One was still alive and screaming, really. Animals screaming is very unnerving, and my grandfather took it in his hands and explained everything as he smothered the rest of the life out of it.

    Lesson learned.

    And that's what this reads like to me: A lesson learned about life and death, the respect needed for both, and a break from suffering more than necessary and for these things to pass without judgment.

    This is excellent. Truly.

    | Posted on 2010-08-30 00:00:00 | by Lady of Shalott | [ Reply to This ]
      There is something cruel about this poem (in a good way). There is no judgment in it. It is written simply as an observation. Is it supposed to be a shock for the reader to find that line "I loved him" in the midst of all the blood and anguish? I don't know if I'm average, but for some reason reading it made my love him too, whatever reservations I may have about strangling birds.
    | Posted on 2010-08-30 00:00:00 | by Hecate | [ Reply to This ]

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