3 Poems: Fiver, The Lost Tape, and The Pheonix

The little rabbit,

eyes turned to the sky

in a trance, his red eyes wide in terror,

as he predicted the death of his society

the men filling in the holes. 

The militant, no-nonsense bureaucrat bunnies laughed, unconcerned

not believing in the danger.

They believed they were invincible,

like warriors often do.

Fiver, the little runt,

entertained no such delusions.

When he and his brother, 

and those who heard,

made it to Fiver's Promised Land

Fiver got the last laugh...

in the most horrific way possible.

Somehow, somewhere,

in the midst of one of our many moves,

a cassette was lost.

Simply labeled "Clannad"

It had no song title lists,

and the lyrics, in Gaelic, were anybody's guess.

They don't fit into the logic of google

they were raw emotions I didn't need to know the language 

to understand, to feel how the artists felt

the tape was a gift from a friend of my mom's 

a neat New Age lady

who taught me how to play chess

and that a woman can do anything

and that a feminist says "Yes I Can!"

when the world tells you you can't

it's not your place

such beautiful songs, but I don't know their names

burned into my heart

yet they shall always remain lost,

the tape only lives in my memory

maybe it never existed at all

maybe it was always just a part of me

The phoenix stretches out her mighty wings,

flying high over the mountain peaks.

she fears not aging, or even death

and yet, she is wise avoiding danger

idly regarding the land below,

she grows tired, finds a safe spot

to finally rest.

burns herself in order to start again,

newly hatched, naked, tiny, scared

because she knows that in order to learn anything,

one must begin again,

you can't

fill a cup that is

already full