timreedy

I am Earth’s child

Wet water chases a tail’s
splash with tickle
sparkles-dance-on-a-ripple
white caps carried
by a flowing stream

I swim with Beaver

Mountain’s top beneath my
feet fast as wind rustling
branches on tree
autumn leaves lift from the
ground upon
my passing breeze

I run with Elk

Wings of feather
colored red with speckles
touch the sky with singing echo
ahhhh soaring free

I fly with Birds

I still dream……

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Love

Hearts soaring aloft
open everlasting blue above
painted clouds disappear
drunk away by a sipping sun

Floating to the treetops
on featherless wings
holding with caress
on soft field of green

Birds fill the scene
with Mother Nature’s song
as they sing

Love burns like a fire in dry
brush
one gaze with words unspoken
forever is not enough

One gaze with words unspoken
forever is not enough

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>

Where the Featherless Fly

I have heard an eagle’s song
but found no eagle singing

My eyes of blue
peer into the
sight of birds

Yellow eyes have
caught me dreaming

Riding sunlight on
winds whistled wisp

Skimming mountains
with an echo twice kissed

-Thinking-

I do not need to be
a cunning bird
to see the sky never ends

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Monarch

I once ate

a butterfly

fluttering
in my mouth

frayed wings
strangled by
the curiosity of a
tasting tongue

teeth raze
tender flesh

bug-stained lips
bare
a wicked grin
as the legs twist
one last
twitch

insides oozed
its colorful soul
emptied grey

I enjoyed the taste
so much

I ate more
until my garden
sky was empty

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

In Blessed memory
~
Tim dancing with his Mother
at his wedding.

This is a very well written tale done from the
Native American soul of this author, Tim
Reedy.

The passion, with which he draws out the
life and times of Wnishin, is found in his
gentle yet raw style of poetry and story
telling. He walks you through the life of his
character from birth to death pulling you in
until the end. Every emotion one has will
surface as you read. At the end of the book
are several pages of this author's poetry.
Here is a taste of what you can expect...

"Awaken"

"Moonlight gazes through this glass window-
Staring blind- countless faces carried by
flicker- walk with me..."

This is a small excerpt from Mr. Reedy's
poignant poetry... I encourage all to walk
with him...

Beverly J Raffaele
Amazon.com

Tim Reedy is a
descendant to the
Saginaw Chippewa tribe.
A native of Michigan, he
finds simple pleasure in
taking time to breathe in
the many beautiful colors
and scenes that make up
the great lake state that
he calls home. Learn
more about the Saginaw
Chippewa Tribe.

Wild Flowers Bloom

How can I think of spring?
After drowning deeply
in your wicked kiss

Flower divine
dripping poison
veiled upon
full black berried lips

A bastard’s sun concealed
as sky has faded to shade

Clouds that once wisped white
now afloat in fray

I cannot remember a minute
I did not long for the flavor
of your sinful taste

In your garden of
wild flowers bloom
is where I lost my way.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Poetry’s Dead?

Unicorns glide through star lit heaven,
butterflies dance on a careless flower

Squirrels play in the shade of an oak
tree.
(the oak tree has seen much)

Rainbows follow a lightning flash;
lovers kiss for the first time
(for many years)

Dewdrops capture the sun’s portrait;
thoughts escape me
(not this one)

Poetry dead? By no means……
(I do it for me)

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

In My Sleep

I close my eyes
and fall asleep

Surrounded by
flowing gold
-blending-
endless green

Sweet grass grows
in this special place
where passing
elders know my name

Wings of feather
colored red with speckles
touch the sky with singing echo
ahhhh soaring free

I fly with Birds

I still dream…

Purchase now from Amazon!

Book Description:
"The Crying Bitches
Collection" is a kaleidoscope
of poetry, never sitting idle
on any one simple principle
or thought. Within the pages
lies the imagination of a
Native American descendant.
The title bears the thought
we as people can bathe in
our own tears, feeling sorry
for ourselves and our
tragedies, or get up and
chase our visions, our
dreams, throughout you may
find a poem that will make
you smile, laugh, or perhaps
cry — most of all, one may
help you think.

Reviews

Tim Reedy paints poignant
scenes of everyday folks
with his poetry that comes
from his Native American
soul . Whether it is a "kiss
with the sharp taste of
nicotine" or of a soaring
eagle, his characters are
raw and true. Mr. Reedy is
a purist in every sense and
he writes imagery in such a
way that you feel it, taste
and see it. For these
reasons, he is one of my
favorite modern poets.
He's a man with spirit and I
highly recommend his book
" Crying Bitches"

Beverly J Raffaele
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Professor Gregory Shafer

It's hard to find enough
superlatives to describe
this new collection of
poems. Few books of
poetry are as moving or as
permeated with authentic
passion as The Crying
Bitches. After reading just
a few poems, one realizes
that there is a lot viscera
and tears that went into
this startling work. Tim
Reedy has taken a
penetrating vision and
linguistic acumen and used
it to paint poignant,
sarcastic, and heroic
images of life. It's one of
those few pieces of art that
one remembers, keeps,
and passes on.