Wading through
trash
in search of gems.
Letters from you
lost in the
dump
since Yahoo
decided everything from
WordPress is spam.
I’m journeying
into a black
Carpal tunnel.
Monday Meme in Newfoundland August 18, 2014
The return of the Monday Meme!
On Facebook, one of my former students, all grown up and living in Newfoundland, posted this photo of her daughter that just cries out to be a Monday Meme, and so, with her permission, now it is!
The rules:
- You use this photo as a prompt for some writing. Poem, story, memory, it doesn’t matter.
- Copy the photo onto your site, leaving the text.
- Link back to this post AND submit your link in the comments below.
Note:
While I post the photo on Mondays, you don’t have to post your writing on Mondays. You can post whenever you choose. If you enjoy this one, click ‘Monday Meme’ at right, and respond to any of the old posts.
poem-lake music August 17, 2014
A Salmon Arm Roots & Blues Festival poem
.
They’re dancing at the main stage
Melodies entwining in their hair
Pulses beating with the rhythm
of the musicians everywhere.
Bookbinding: Skills a Poet Needs
I love handmade books.
Hello Readers,
Sorry I have been a little absent. My dear friend started a literary journal where I am an editor and I started a new job at the reference desk at my library (yay adulthood!). In other words, like all of you out there in internet land, I don’t know where the time goes, but it must be lost in the couch, with the spare change from my jean pockets and all the good intentions I had of being more productive.
I had the pleasure of celebrating the fiftieth birthday of a former art teacher this past week and was wracked with what to get her. What do you make the person who first inspired you to be an artist? Well, you give her some art.
That’s what everyone else did. She got paintings and photos and sculptures. Her party was a painting party where we all made a…
View original post 711 more words
poem-jaundiced August 16, 2014
Your photo
sends me back thirty years.
In your place,
I see your old man:
his suspicious eye
pot belly
and bald head.
He was nearly eighty
and always angry.
You hardly look younger
with your belly and baldness,
and you’re wearing
his discontent
like an inherited suit.
It’s ageing you more
than your years are.
poem- drop August 14, 2014
The dogs collapse
in hot heaps.
Summer’s simmering
settles into evening
breeze, but
the sun drops
ever earlier,
and autumn calls.
poem- where
When you went away
full of dreams and plans
we waved your plane off
and wondered how reality
could possibly live up to
your unreasonable expectations.
We let you go to find your way
and when nothing is
what you thought it’d be
We have faith that
you will figure out
the reason,
and create reasonable
reality
for yourself.
poem-angel laughter August 12, 2014
After
yesterday’s tears,
Today
on the breeze
I hear the
laughter
of angels
.
.
#RIPRobinWilliams
Shawn L. Bird 