zvirbuļu koŗi

tāpēc, ka bija balts, vārnas saēdās sāli; no vadiem pelēki skaitījās zvirbuļu koŗi. neaiztiec balto, nevajag — kaut kā sanāca noklusēt; vārnas salēca aplītī, aizrautīgi ķērkdamas. gaisā pajuka mākoņi: baloži ieradās miglā, apkārt drudžaini kasījās, nesaprata, ka nomirs. agrāk vai vēlāk, nāc putnus barot vai baidīt — pēdas sniegā un spārnu raksti tiem apkārt ieliks […]

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when all else fails

pain remains. in its incapacitating, insane clarity, pain remains. and suddenly, there is no space for questions of why and what for, because there is only that which is. pain. it will pass, at some point, i know, this is only a bout, a fit, incomplete and unfinished, searing the edges of what i thought […]

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the goose knows the magnetic poles, and can fly at night, navigating through weather and time, rain and wind, finding the track their parents have shown them only once before. the goose knows which grasses are good, which grains help you grow, how to build nest so that the younglings are safe, and where to […]

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the swans

have left. this was on the news. i woke up grey today, like the earth and the sky, and the fallen leaves in the mist. and i thought, those swan-less days before the first snow touches down will be as grey as i will think them. i have to put up the bird feeder soon. […]

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one of the nice things about living in a suburb, are the stars. tonight there were so many stars in the dark-dark-blue of the sky. like so many worlds, open. believe, know, and enter. and the geese flew over the city in skeins.

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the one that brings the different green to all those woods i will not go. why, oh why is every spring that depressing? in addition, the hdd of my laptop died on me. now i am in the process of  changing computers, reinstalling, recalibrating, re…ng. instead of translating or having fun. but the grass is […]

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a conversation

so i get out to get some food and stop to watch some starlings on their worm-hunt. behind me there is a kid coming from school talking to his grandfather. grampa asks [meaning starlings], ‘what birds are those?’ the kid screams happily, ‘penguins!!’ so much for education these days. (i’d not mind penguins in this […]

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i was walking home from the tram, i went past an apple-tree.  there was a bird in it, a crow. the crow bespoke me. i answered. we discussed weather and food, and life in general. and then i realised, i was talking to a bird. in an apple-tree. for the past three minutes. the crow […]

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the first thing i noticed was this. the world was monochrome. the second thing i noticed was-were- the crows, sitting in the white trees like so many inquisitors, like a bunch of hooded bandits circling in on someone. when i opened my window, they left. judging by the aggregation of student works, winter is here.

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my monsters

the window was quite clean. till i looked at it in the photo. ok, it was clean in september. they come every moment, from dawn till dusk. they persecute me at work. or they tell their relatives in the city centre to do that, i don’t know. they are green and yellow, and black, and […]

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this is what the birds did to my thermometer. vandalism or curiosity, i wonder? Posted by Wordmobi

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two crows in the trees by my window, collecting material for their nest. one of them chooses the twig, gets hold of it with their beak, swings wildly, then breaks it off. the other stares, watchful for any imminent danger could assail two crows on a march morning, in the city where nobody cares. the […]

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it was 4.27 in the morning. the blackbird clicked and screamed me awake. do those guys ever sleep? under a street-lamp, in the mist, in the cold of the night, he makes noise to wake half the block. it must be spring. Posted by Wordmobi

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spring is come. the blackbirds sing at 4:51. morning breaks into my room like a ton of bricks over an innocent head. the smell of raw earth dumbfounds, catches, astonishes me. shall i say, tomorrow will be worse.

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You can say- this is logical. That instead of active marking of works i am watching two crows selecting a place for nest. My body refused to race at the speed of the past three weeks. It is so strange to have a downtime.

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October is here. My small birds say, there is going to be cold soon. Must go and get them some food. I guess, I am responsible for them now.

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formulae and parting

A crazy bird is having a go at a spring-time song in the darkness. I am trying to come to terms with backache and oral formulae alternately. Neither seems to be exceedingly inclined to co-operation. If “an oral formula is a group of words that is regularly employed under the same metrical conditions to express […]

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