I’m diving,
slicing water,
breathless,
drowning.
I’m racing,
building speed,
breathless,
crashing.
I’m going,
aiming high
breathless,
exploding.
.
.
This sounds like something terrible is unfolding, but all is well, just having a busy, breathless kind of day! 🙂
They cluster about
like vampires,
smiling sycophants,
their eyes glowing
with delight,
basking in your presence.
Their good intentions
would suck you dry,
if you gave them half
a chance.
.
You smile,
all charm and pleasantries,
while internally, you mock
their saccharin sweetness
and puerile pandering.
You accept their homage,
nod nobly
and never let it seep
into your psyche.
They cluster about
like vampires,
smiling sycophants,
their eyes glowing
with delight,
basking in your presence.
Their good intentions
would suck you dry,
if you gave them half
a chance.
.
.
File under: Things I Learn from Watching the Greats in Action
His scowl bounces off the walls
and she knows what kind of bounce he needs
but their inconvenient visitor
incites invible depression
so there is no undressing
for decompressing
As Ben Franklin would say,
“Fish and visitors stink
after three days.”
It was woven
like light
dappling between the leaves
of our maple tree,
your voice, soft in memory,
searching for the heart of me.
It was woven
like lithe
subtleties between the grease
of our maigre feast,
your voice, lost in murmurings
purging forth our history.
It was woven
like life
sampling between the griefs
of our marble stele
your voice, wafts in every
yearning it exhorts of me.
.
.
I may be stretching your vocabulary with this one! Here’s some help:
maigre- religious diet without the flesh or juice of animals
stele- pillar, marker, tombstone (pron. like STEEL-y)
Today
Your Snow White beauty
Is cut with a sharp edge of
Street smarts.
You’ve seen
Too much.
Tomorrow
Will the visions
Scar your face with darkness,
Cigarette creases
And add black anger to your eyes,
Aging you with
Exponential bitterness?
Or will your words
Poured out upon a page
Erase the stresses
And sculpt your beauty
Into timelessness?
Row on row
books rest, wise and eager
waiting for a hopeful reader
Someone seeking information
or an escape into fiction.
In racks and stacks
new worlds await
and the library is the gate.
“I appreciate
how you’re always
so colourful,” my colleague said,
echoing words I’ve heard before
Sometimes I feel
like a rainbow
in a gray scale world.
Or the one colourized character
in a black and white film.
Someone has
brighten dreary days,
and add vividness to boring views.
It could be you,
but it’s me.
.
I feel the light crawling
on my skin, burrowing in
and out through the pores,
illuminating my blue bones.
I see the glow of your pain
woven in the strands of my muscles,
stretched and aching like a long line
of scarlet soldiers dragging guns and stabbing bayonets.
I hear the purple shimmer of your displeasure,
Flashing gold anger explodes up my body
in shrieking tsunami waves.
I taste darkness and agony.
I smell the rainbow of your discontent.
I am you and we are
sensational.
Shawn L. Bird 