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Flying high, scanning with eagle eyes
I survey the land, while soaring the skies
I’m searching for those beautiful birds of blue
But I wouldn't mind finding a freaky falcon, or two
For I’m fiending for an all out feathered fuck fest
Then from afar, what do I see; it’s the sacred nest
If this turns out how I imagined it to be
With pretty parrots pole dancing just for me
As chickadees shake their tail feathers with sexy ass flair
Then I’ll be in for an exotic & erotic avian affair
So I glide on down, just to take a peep
To see all the glorious treasures I’m about to reap
But wouldn't you know, I landed in a goddamn pigeonhole
This sucks, for all they do is coo and strut for fucks sake
I don’t know how much of this shit I can take
So I fly away at the very first chance
I mean, these bird-brained bitches can’t even dance
Now I need to get a real bird’s eye view
So I can find those babes in blue
I fly away and perch myself upon a nearby wall
And just when I spot a place to roost, I hear them call
My feathers ruffle, as my talons grip tight
Oh, what a beautiful sight
To have finally found the Blue Jays Ball
But there’s too many doves wanting to be my doll
And too many blue jay babes coming down the hall
I guess I’ll just have to start with the best
And if there’s time, I’ll get to the rest
It must be time, for they've pinned my wings against the wall
So I spread eagle, eager to try and fuck them all

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Editing stage: 


And welcome.

This is the first of your posts I've had a chance to read (I'm a little behind) and I'll be honest- for a poem that has a lot of the things I don't like about poetry (rough language, mixed meter) I'm kind of surprised to find I liked it.

It's certainly not poetry as usual. I'll have to look in on your other work before I have anything constructive to say.
A rather original subject matter at the very least.
I hope you find something at NeoPoet worth sticking around for.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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