My childhood was a fairytale with its Heaven and Hell. Just as the sad memories shaped me so did the sublime. I spent my most formative years living with my father on his vast farm named Unicorn Farm, which spread a thousand acres embracing ordered orchards where the horses galloped; a swamp bristled with ancient gnarled gothic grey trees, lotuses and skirts of pale green algae; the pine forests where black fox squirrels and bobcats lived among the carnivorous plants and lady slippers orchids and the rusty metallic garden of disused junk metal that looms in my memories like a Max Ernst nightmare. This was my refuge and i shared it with my many friends; my obsession; my birds! I was content in my loneliness, constantly drawing in my watchtower treehouse or going on photography adventures with my camera but my father indulged my obsession and it grew to a vast population of diverse species. I had emus, peacocks of white and blue, a trio of mute swans, pheasants, geese, ducks, pigeons and parrots; they all roamed free except for the parrots and emus who had spacious homes built for them and were attended by their ardent devotee. Each spring i would be up and out at dawn’s mist to collect the eggs which were incubated. The hatchlings imprinted on me, i was their parent and upon maturity, running free they still followed me. Birds led me to music, birds were very present in my baptism as a poet, birds taught me to make friends with people, eventually.
— ebe oke
— ebe oke
