You are amazing.
You are worthy of love.
You are valuable.
You have something to offer.
What are you doing?
poem-distress signal March 10, 2015
whimper
pant
pace
whine
pant
woof?
pant
woof
pace
pant
woof!
pant
WOOF!
pant
cry
WOOF wooooof!
pant
sigh
.
.
My 15 year old standard poodle is still unable to manage alone after we had to put down our 16.5 year old miniature poodle last month. We now allow him to sleep in our bedroom. Last night, after he’d been pacing and whimpering from 1:30 to 2 a.m. (post snack and pee-break) I actually got out of bed to lie beside him on the floor for 20 minutes until he settled. I’m not sure if that’s enabling, but we were all able to sleep afterwards. A visit to the vet this week, and a trip to his favourite kennel master next week, and I have hopes that perhaps he’ll be able to cope soon. The mourning process is a challenge for us all.
poem- really? March 9, 2015
I thought I knew
what was coming next,
but all I know
is nothing is what I expect.
.
.
⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓
www.shawnbird.com/poetic-diversity-project
Please consider sharing a poem or a link on the theme of SHARING SPACE and helping me with my grad school course!
poem- offensive March 8, 2015
I am offended by this object.
In my messy,
but perfectly coordinated, kitchen
you have filled the clear soap dispenser
with acid yellow dish detergent,
instead of clear or white
as is the aesthetic choice.
It glares at me:
caution colour
screaming incongruity.
It hurts my eyes;
it seers my sensibility.
But you are proud
of your helpfulness,
and this is your house, too.
Perhaps if I squint,
it will be invisible?
.
.
⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓
This piece works with the theme SHARING SPACE on today’s http://www.shawnbird.com/poetic-diversity-project
Please consider sharing a poem or a link on this theme and help me with my grad school course!
poem- fill
Clean fill wanted.
Fill ‘er up.
Free fill.
Post buffet belly full.
Fill the empty space, erase the years.
Botox?
Not free.
But fills
poem-picking March 7, 2015
Poems crowd together,
being sorted
like kids in PE class.
Popular kids first
Intelligent kids next
Then intuitive, quirky kids.
But after that?
Many sad poems
that didn’t make the team?
.
.
.
(compiling poetry for collections.)
poem-partners March 6, 2015
Sometimes
when your shoe is hurting,
it’s because of the seam
on the sock.
poem- limping March 5, 2015
The physiotherapist
rolls, stretches, and manipulates
my ankle joint.
Push here.
Pull there.
Between parallel bars
re-learn to walk:
roll from the heel,
flex that joint.
Let go.
If you rely on the supports
and are too tender with the joint
you’ll continue to limp.
Your body will think it must,
even when the joint is healed.
How many other ways
am I limping in my life?
How many other ways
should I re-learn to walk?
.
For Jody and Anita
poem-anxious sovereignty March 4, 2015
You and I are independent souls.
I move through the house;
You rest comfortably in contented sovereignty.
You do not need to dog my heels
to glorify each moment at my side
or expect me to worship at your feet.
You ignore me for hours,
sleeping in peaceful, self-sufficiency.
We are independent souls,
until the moment I step outside the door,
and calamity explodes in barks and whines.
It pants, scratches, and pees displeasure
at this, your desperate circumstance,
wailing at the injustice of loneliness,
vomiting up fathomless grief.
For the hours I am present, I do not exist;
for the hour I am absent, I make your world
a cavernous void.
Dog ironies
amid anxieties.
,
,
OJ is not doing well since Dusty went to the Rainbow Bridge. We’ve tried swaddling as per Thundershirt. We’ve got the Rescue Remedy. He’s in his safe, contained space. We fill the Kong with goodness. Still the dog thinks the world is ending when I walk out the door. Got any other suggestions? Except a new dog companion. Hubby imagines a dog-free household in our near future. (I’m allergic to cats, so that’s not an option either).
poem- philosophy of place March 3, 2015
A poem created as part of my grad school Poetic Diversity Project:
Where I grew up
all the faces were variations of my own
Snow White, Cinderella,
assorted Prince Charmings
interchangeable
My experiences with other cultures were
Princess Tiger Lily, Little Black Sambo,
Emperor’s Nightingale.
But somehow I knew the world was bigger
and I wanted to wrap my tongue
around other languages
entwine new vowels
between rhythmic syllables and
see inside minds that
offered something
more.
Offered something
more.
Offered something
not better
not worse
just different
Because different is worth noticing
because different means to the same end
speak to a journey with different views
a different beauty
a different way
of being human,
offers something
more.
Shawn L. Bird 