There is a certain futility
in buds blooming in a vase,
but undeniable beauty
bursting open without hope
of bearing fruit.
poem- guessing May 2, 2016
I guess
I should remember
the curve of your cheek
the reach of your arms
the pitch of your voice.
I remember
the imprint of your fingers
against my thigh, rising scarlet.
I remember
the strident screech
that foretold your speeches
about the unfairness of life.
I remember
the flash of your eyes
the thud of the door
being poor.
I guess
I remember
you.
.
.
(FYI- written in persona)
poem-journey May 1, 2016
From my backyard swing
I see you on your journey
flying high above me.
What joy or sadness will you bring
in a public celebration
when you arrive at your destination?
.
View from the swing in my backyard.
poem-optimism April 30, 2016
I bought a yoga block today
To help me do those trickier positions.
I have the yoga mat in a nice new case
at the top of the stairs.
I bought a couple of yoga CDs
and a stack of yoga magazines.
Occasionally I stretch my arms and think
first position of the sun salutation!
Someday, I going to turn on the CD
or go to a class
or take the block from its package.
I have faith in me.
I’ll do it.
Eventually.
poem-puppy business April 29, 2016
I toss you to the grass
You bounce back to the deck.
I toss you to the grass
You bounce back to the deck.
I toss you to the grass
You bounce back to the deck.
I toss you to the grass
You bounce back to the deck.
I toss you to the grass
You race across the lawn
a bullet, a shooting star, a dragster
turn tightly around the pine tree.
You race across the lawn
a bullet, a shooting star, a dragster
turn tightly around the row of pyramid cedars.
You race across the lawn
a bullet, a shooting star, a dragster
turn tightly around the shed,
then stop and squat.
Ahhhhh… success.
You bounce back to the deck
supremely proud of yourself.
Puppy business done.
Poem- terrarium April 28, 2016
You’ve packed the flourishing greenery
Back inside this box you’ve made
A green house cube
stuffed with verdure seeking escape
Seeking opportunity to bloom again
To scatter seed
To create the future.
But you are heedless of this dream;
inside your cube tender greens are safe
From weeds.
poem-dark April 27, 2016
I’m weary of tunnels.
Closing in around me,
narrowing the future
to a pinpoint of possibility
ahead of the foreboding train.
quote-teach April 25, 2016
“You can’t be an art teacher until you’re an artist. Duh.”
~Annie Liebovitz
Shawn L. Bird 