The King's Dinner- Published in The Dazed Starling: Unbound!

My poem, "The King's Dinner" was recently featured in California Baptist University's online publication-- The Dazed Starling: Unbound. 

I am always proud to work with my alma mater and I'm honored they chose to feature my poem. 

The editors included the first half of the original poem, which can be found here: 

https://issuu.com/dazedstarling/docs/_ds_unbound_2023/9

If you'd like the read the entire poem, I will post it below.

 

The King’s Dinner

The phoenix sang her final song, her mournful tune, last night.

A song of grief, a song of joy, a song of dark and light.

 

My king believed the phoenix chick, if served upon his plate,

Would grant him immortality, and stave off all man’s fate.

Thus in the morning I was sent to find the new-hatched bird.

I started forth before the dawn near where her song was heard.

 

In top of a palmetto, an oasis in a glen,

I found her small and trembling in a nest of cinnamon.

 

I found the blue-eyed fledgling bird a-crying in the ash.

Her eyes were bright, her beak gleamed sharp, her down a ruby flash.

I reached up for the phoenix though she shrank away from me.

With gauntlet on, I captured her—she did not peck nor flee.

 

Now that I’d seized the phoenix bird I’d promised to my lord,

I turned back to his lordship who held my vast reward.

 

I placed the phoenix in my bag and clasped the leather flap.

Hardly guessing that her eyes had set for me a trap.

For I’d not guessed her tender eyes could soften my hard core;

I thought about my son, who I’d left playing on the floor.

 

My son had bright blue eyes, you see, much like the fragile nestling.  

Before my heel could take a step, my mind and heart were wrestling.

 

My mind told me I’d done my work- the silver coins were mine,

As long as I turned in the bird and then the king could dine.

But oh my heart, and oh my soul, they would not give me peace,

I knew my lad with sky-blue eyes would wish the chick released.

 

I turned the flap, I looked inside- her eyes shone full of trust.

As if she knew I’d made my choice- much to my mind’s disgust. 

 

To catch the bird of paradise, I set a snare most clever,

Plucked its feathers, told the king it’d make him live forever.

His eyes, they narrowed at the sight. Did he suspect a trick?

Once he’d begun his dinner there, I made away — and quick!

 

The fiery bird still in my bag, she never made a sound

Until we reached my house of stone and then she glanced around.

 

I gave her to my youngling son, who stroked her naked head.

I packed his blanket and his cloak, with dried figs and dark bread. 

We traveled day and night before my monarch could suspect

The bone that he had dined upon was not a phoenix neck.

 

We headed off toward the east- to sand, and star-filled nights

We fled to Egypt where the bird could safely learn her flight.  

 

With scent of myrrh, and eyes of blue, and voice of light and joy,

The phoenix grew beneath the sun, a friend to my sweet boy.

And soon the bird would grow and live a thousand years or more,

Before her final song would pierce the night upon these shores.