darkbird in my head, cloud in my heart

is this a knotting

point or isolated act?

a cogitation, a thought

poof blowing, no running

through my head?

surrounded in dampness,

it slips through my hand.

careful how i breathe,

there is a cloud in my heart,

a thought without words

billowing to get out.

a gag acid reflux burns on fine thread.

yes, i have a bird inside too

but mine’s not in my heart nor blue.

i really don’t know the kind,

or color, or sex for that matter.

it doesn’t want to get out,

it can’t come out it’s in my head,

locked away in the mind cage

on a hidden perch of deep recess.

as fancy as i am it is probably

grey gulping on wisdom breath,

incessantly chirping to set the cloud free.

humming agitator feeding on me

at the fountain of my weak heart,  

and there, that is how it happens...

after a deep breath the fountain

cloud escapes in the shallows,

pulling me along to follow.

darkbird in my head, cloud in my heart!

it turns deep stormy black

where the crowd forms,

knowing it needs to stand alone,

to float out in the wide blue open.

blow faster in the jetstream current,

setting trends, leading the tradewinds

grey hummingbird in my head.

little narcissist pressing the steamy fountain

of my heart commanding me to breathe,

commanding me to set the cloud free,

singing which way love goes,

pointing the vane to her corner

the rose to the coordinate, crossing the amorous

line where i stand. the darkbird squeezes

the bellow on night shining clouds

in a smoky lit room where she dances.

there is a cloud in my heart,

a thought without words

billowing to get out.

a cathedral without belief

bleeding cold visible aerosol,

dying on the vine of imagination’s thread.

towering alto and cirro on every etage

of the cloud atlas, rippling rocks of the sky

it is the only way the darkbird gets to fly.

it never sings... then i weep and the cloud dies,

just an isolated act,

not a knotting point!