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Zen Narcissisism
by Charlie Morgana hummingbird lit on my outstretched finger;
another communion with nature, so fortunate
that i have that memory, better than college.
a hummingbird flapping the Colorado Bald Pate
winds at a frenzied 60 wing-beats a second;
and i can't even blink that fast; humbles me.
weather, a lil' testy to me, a three ounce bird
tames the mountainside with a demure existence
the strength of the mountain itself, held down.
sugar, water or sugar-water or succulent wetness
that will immediately fill his tank of needed fuel
to see the next day, week or three to four years.
iridescence in un-nameable colors cleanse me;
i walk away as he flies away, him first. i grin.
it happened to me. me. and just me, makes it mine!
i'm blushed. important, with the world's admiration
cloaking me like a ragamuffin doll lays on gravity;
i bow a thank you to all. i knew it was about me.
10/22/2008 Posted on 10/23/2008
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 10/23/08 at 04:44 AM And I'm pretty sure I should bow to writing this sharp, this chaotic and wholly effective because of that. Well done, sir. |
| Posted by Alisa Js on 10/23/08 at 06:05 AM WoW! Was this for real? If so, it's pretty damned impressive...
TOTALLY! alisa ;-) |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 10/23/08 at 12:29 PM Yes Charlie, it was for you. But you made it grow and passed it on to the rest of the world to hold, feel, and try to understand. Very nicely done sir. |
| Posted by Joe Cramer on 10/23/08 at 01:29 PM ... exceptionally well done! |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 10/24/08 at 12:41 AM Hehe. All about you. Well. We know different, and yet, inside our skin is really the only perspective we have, no matter how hard we try to walk a mile in the other guys' shoes. The hummingbird is such a good omen. |
| Posted by A. Paige White on 10/24/08 at 09:56 PM I love the way you wrote this. Your childlike wonder is so evident. Isn't it a treasury when God sends us seemingly insignificant events that touch us to the depth of our being? Just a little thing like a hummingbird on your finger. Sometimes it's the little things that aren't so little at all. Beautiful write. |
| Posted by Glenn Currier on 08/03/09 at 02:50 PM You waited till the last sentence to chuckle me. I am glad. The rest of the poem, so rich in images it took me for a much trip to the west and the mountains and iridescent little life. I take one of those really deep breaths that says I am where I am supposed to be and all is well. Thank you for the moment. Also... just wanted you to know I actually go to the zen-end of your list. |
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