I don’t think we write poetry. We merely discover it. Poetry is everywhere; nude, unpredictable and evocative. We run around in circles, with hand mirrors pressed against our chests. We don’t create it from scratch. Breathe life into words. Or dig deeper within ourselves, past the festering muck of human drama, to find serenity in language.
Poetry sniffs us out. Then it hunts us down. It’s always either a pleasant surprise or a rude awakening. It occupies our throats. Rattles our bones. Blurs our vision. Fills our heads with delusions of inadequacy. And our hearts – with finger-plucked music and wet autumn leaves.
It can be beautiful yet empty. Melancholic but hopeful. It can be as confusing as it is comforting; as caustic as it is fragile. Strangely, it always makes us feel better about ourselves.
What isn’t the least bit strange is that the Malabar Whistling Thrush is more of a poem than it is a member of the Muscicapidae family of birds.
Bathed in blue, no matter the time of day, they are residents of the Western Ghats in south India. They look especially gorgeous during the monsoon. It’s when they get louder too. Known locally as “whistling schoolboys”, they offer songs, not words, for free every morning.
I saw her first in Vattakanal years ago. But I had mistaken her for an Asian Fairy Bluebird. Months later, I followed a song of hers at dusk in the lower sections of Adukkam.
I ended up spotting the bluebirds for the first time.
Birds write such beautiful poems, don’t they?
Watch a Malabar Whistling Thrush live in concert at a cottage in Kerala
I follow many poets on WordPress. I haunt them like a jungle cat’s ghost, with my claws out, trembling in excitement at the beauty they discover. Thotpurge and Butterflies of Time – two of my favourite poetry blogs – frighten me as much as they rain-harvest me.
Our hearts absorb bruises,
as long as they appear in
shades of blue; our words
aren’t glue sticks, they are
beautiful, albeit rather
misleading, clues.
(Photographs: Munnar, Palani Hills, Kodaikanal, Valparai)
verseherder 
Enchanting bird and the verse too
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Thank you, Reena. Your verses are ethereal!
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Reblogging with your permission. I can’t help but do it now that you mention my blog in such petrichor-laden terms
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Aww please go ahead, the pleasure, in principle and in poetry, was certainly mine (smile)
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Reblogged this on BUTTERFLIES OF TIME and commented:
Bird stalker scribbler me now tuning into better poetic avian frequencies thanks to Christy Bharath and his poem-writing birds at the Verseherder-the perfect place to cure my blues!
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❤
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Or maybe poetry writes us.
Speaking subjectively (which, ultimately, is the only thing I know to speak of) I hardly ever feel a sense of conscious agency over my poems. I was never interested in composing or even reading poetry until 2012 when it first started popping unbidden into my head. Even back in my bass playing days when I used to write song lyrics it was never a matter of sitting down and working them out but rather inserting the music as a kind of earworm and letting the lyrics emerge by themselves.
Tiger by the tail is a recent example of lyrics spontaneously earwormed from a Tom Waits tune while I slept, but most of my poems just arrive at my consciousness while it’s focused on other things.
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Lucidly put, cabro! Finding poetry to be the quill, not the medium for, is a fascinating perspective, considering that our subconscious thoughts are like ink blots. Perhaps it’s why I am drawn to lesser abstract poems.
Music is definitely a catalyst, ear worming is a great way of describing the process!
Bassist/lyricist eh (big smile)…have you posted any of your songs?
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Not unless you count recent ones like ‘tiger by the tail’. I’m only prepared to inflict so much upon those who stumble across my blog.
It was 1981-82. The band was Indecent Assault. Vocals/rhythm guitar was Jack Toff. Lead guitar was Dildo Daggins. The lady behind the drum kit was either Liza True or Kunti Beaver, as the mood took her (and her moods took her to some strange places I can tell you). I was Mick Schtup.
As far as the fans were concerned (if you could call people who showed up regularly to throw stuff at us ‘fans’) our best song was Singin’ the Shits – but their requests were along the lines of “PLAY THE SHIT SONG YOU FUCKIN’ WANKERS!”.
‘Nuff said?
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Hahahaha excellent! Kunti Beaver is just the best name ever.
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BTW, there was also a British punk band called Indecent Assault, but we got there first.
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I am glad y’all did. Quite the name, very un-hipster, which is just dandy! Can’t wait to listen to the music. If I say “pretty fly for a cabrogal”, how much will you hate me?
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Aww please go ahead, the pleasure, in principle and in poetry, was certainly mine
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But your words are glue sticks bird-bard…and they keep me stuck to your poems and your birds… thanks a ton.
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Cues Velvet Underground’s “Sticking With You” ❤
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What a beautiful bird the blue Malabar Whistling Thrush is! …and that’s a lovely poem to describe the bird. I agree that we don’t write poetry, we just discover it in things that we see or feel.
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Isn’t she! Do watch the video when you find the time, I caught one of her songs on camera.
Thank you for the lovely words!
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Saw the video. She sings beautifully.
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My mind goes blank when it comes to poetic verses. A poem that passes as ‘awesome’ for me when written from the heart more resembles something of a limerick with a meter befitting Dr. Suess. Maybe I’ve been a mom too long. 😀
The thrush reminds me of an iridescent blackbird who stood a bit too long in the blue paint. But your fairy…gosh. That is some jacket. Good thing he’s small or he might wind up the way of the white rhino. I can see people conniving behind the scene to steal his color to wear at posh dinner parties.
I hope the monsoon rains look as good on you, Christy! Or else you might be a wispy, soggy mess by now.
PS – Went to the coast and got some birdy infusion…finally!!
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But Dr Seuss is awesome, as is his anapestic tetrameter.
And today the great Yertle, that Marvelous He,
Is King of the Mud. That is all he can see.
And the turtles, of course… all the turtles are free
As turtles and, maybe, all creatures should be.
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Iridescent blackbird sounds like a dream I don’t want to wake up from. Seuss or Satre, poetry or prison diary, birds bring out the words in us, Shannon!
Posh dinner parties hehehe yes yes stealing colours, the discreet charm of the bourgeois.
The rains have subsided for now, I had an amazing birding trail today, let me just say that a flycatcher dropped by, and she might have some property in paradise!
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Thank you Christy for the loveliness of your verse and the beauty of your bird photos. Life wouldn’t be the same without these.
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Awww that’s such a beautiful thing to know, thank you shru.
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Your verses (and of course images and writeup) are beautiful.
I try to write verses too, but I cant for the life of me write a verse that does not rhyme. Some day…
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Thanks LG. I think you should just write of them. I don’t think there are barometers in poetry. As long as you find ecstasy in them, they have served their purposes!
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What a lovely shade of blue.. Truly spectacular 😍👍
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I ll tell her so, neethu (smile)
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👍👍😉😉
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Took the words right out of my mouth
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To us, wind-talkers, go the spoils and treasures too (knuckle bump)
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hey!
a lovely post.
i believe that you are a bird watcher. i need help to understand which bird sings in my society.
she visits the society everyday at 4 am . she sings till 6.30 am.
i stay very close to Sanjay Gandhi National Park in Mumbai.
is there an app that will help me find which bird it is?
i could never ever spot her! i assume that she is very tiny,
but very very very delightful to my ears.
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Thank you Sonali!
I’d love to help out. Perhaps you could describe the sound? Is it a single note? Also do tell me the sort of trees nearby. Mail to Christy.bharath@gmail.com.
You could also record a video to capture the sound. There are plenty of websites to help shortlist the birds based on region and sound.
I am really glad she has you this curious!
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shall do that. i will record her voice and send it across.
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Aww wonderful!
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for me, this is one of your most delightfully disturbing posts. It will take some time for my mind to stop spinning.
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So pleased, my lovely friend, how the mind swirls in joy listening to your kind words!
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Feel fortunate to have found your blog today. It’s absolute bliss! I am so much unaware of the wonderful species of our place, glad I can connect with the little creatures through your blog. And your words are equally enchanting!
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Thank you so much Nandhini, tis a serendipitous moment for me too having found yours. I am glad you find beauty in these creatures, I write for them since I am unable yet to live for them… do come back (fist-bump).
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Thanks Christy. Sure, one of a kind niche blog, I will be here for every post, to witness the beauty of your subjects!
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All credit to these beautiful creatures, big and smell, Nandhini. I’d imagine I would be ranting about politics or something dreary and mundane if it weren’t for them. It fills with me summer sun tarts whenever others find joy in them too. Thank you again.
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