I see
how every word crashes into you,
threatens to capsize you,
flaps at your mainsail,
sends your boom flying across a bow,
leaving your cowering on the deck,
begging for the storm to pass.
Aim for port, where words
are bulwarked by the breakwater,
and tides are tempered.
We’ll tie up in safety;
see?
…in my easy button.
.
Confident red circle
sits
in its isolation
on the desk
proclaims,
“That was easy!”
.
We hear the outbursts
amused from a distance,
that it appreciates
ataraxia.
.
Our brains may ache
with the effort
of learning,
.
but that red button
assures us
It wasn’t difficult
at all.
Pick a picture
search the eyes
the dead glass
living eyes
No vacancy
blink
No vacancy
blink
No vacancy
in broken down windows
picked clean
pick up
this dream.
I was dreaming a poem,
consigning rhymes and arguing assonance.
This is the metaphor:
even my subconscious searches
for the words.
This is our path
We walk step in step
We’re heading in the same direction
Around us, the seasons change,
friends leave us with only memories,
reminding us that these days are precious
our hands are clasped together,
trusting in our
future.
I looked for you.
I peered deep into your eyes
searching.
You were not there,
the hollow globes blinked blankly,
soul flown,
arms embracing expectation
empty future.
I looked for you.
You were not there.
Tomorrow I will look
again.
I’m wondering
about the tension between your eyes.
Those two deep, etched furrows
creased vertically above your nose
that appear when you smile
that tight lipped smile
below eyes that do not laugh.
You say,
you can’t help the furrows;
they happen every time,
and yet
look:
in the moments when your mouth is agape,
grinning widely,
when laughter is visible,
erupting from your face
see
the furrows are absent.
I wonder,
why you hold yourself back from laughter,
why your eyes show only tension,
that you plough into your forehead,
when you could be planting joy.
I wonder
what hurts.
I wonder
whether I can guide you back
to joy.
I’m waffle making
and suddenly
the loss of you
is palpable.
Did I ever make you waffles?
Still, your absence at this moment
overwhelms me,
and I fill the emptiness
with tears.
I woke to my alarm’s
jaunty greeting, lay lulled, wondering where you were,
until I found the sense of you, pressed against my shoulder blades.
I lay, enjoying the warm weight of you,
until the alarm started up again.
It meant it this time.
So, regretfully,
I pulled away from you,
buried my face in your warm belly,
said farewell as you stretched and smiled up at me.
Wednesday will be a long day apart,
but I will return,
and you’ll be waiting,
eagerly.
.
.
.
(a little homage to my canine companion!)
That light in your eye
gives me hope. The glint of
possibility twinkles there.
I am excited by the symphony
you’re embracing as you
attempt novelty.
Shawn L. Bird 