It was a moment,
a frozen smile
caught forever.
A photograph
recording you
as I longed for
you to be.
A moment when
happiness pushed
away illness and
illuminated
all our dreams
poem-black out July 30, 2014
I bring you
darkness:
The serenity of
blackness.
I gift you
the empty void
of lightlessness,
the blessing of
sightlessness,
so you may
sleep.
.
.
.
(Bought some fabric to make hubby’s longed for black out curtains today). 😉
poem-daggers
If you think
the new guy
loves you for you
perhaps it’s just that
he hasn’t noticed yet,
who you really are?
Have you sliced him yet
with those word daggers,
eviscerating his affections,
hacking out his heart,
and bleeding out
years of devotion?
Have you belittled him
in front of family,
friends, and children,
torn him into pieces,
crushed his spirit,
and pushed him to despair?
Not yet?
We’ll give it time.
Eventually
he’ll know you
for the daggers
in your smile.
.
.
.
.
“Where we are, There’s daggers in men’s smiles: the near in blood, The nearer bloody.”
MacBeth II.iii.
poem- apple July 29, 2014
When you crunch
into that apple
eyes twinkling,
cheek dimpling.
I am Eve,
and that smile,
glistening with juice,
is paradise
to go.
found poem- NY Outlander premiere
Diana Gabaldon line at the Outlander panel at 33 minutes: http://www.starz.com/originals/outlander/extras/qanda
In response to the question, “What was her favourite scene in the series so far?”
.
.
“In terms of
visceral reaction,
honesty
compels me
to add,
You have
one
fine
ass,
Sam!*
.
.
.
(She actually said, ‘man’ but she was saying it to Sam Heughan so allow poetic licence).
The buttocks in question will available for admiration August 30th, 2014, when it makes its appearance in the fourth episode of Outlander in the US. (We have 2 more weeks to wait in Canada, theoretically).
poem- wishes July 28, 2014
You’re down the hall
sleeping
and I am awake
missing you
wishing you
were here
to assuage
this ache.
poem- sunrise July 27, 2014
Look at that lovely pink sky.
Huh.
So that’s what a sunrise looks like.
Looks like it’s time
I went to bed.
poem-breath July 26, 2014
Your breath
on this hot day
softly
panting
beside me
is so putrid
I can’t explain
why I adore
you.
.
But
I
do.
.
.
.
(dog love)
poem-mimic
I did not know
that a crow walking
on my skylight,
pecking to come in
sounds exactly like
a barfing dog
or a toilet
backing up.
Strange talent
that.
poem-lost gift July 25, 2014
Family and friends
gather for funeral to
tell stories:
laughter
tears
admiration
appreciation.
I hope she knew
she touched this many.
that they’d have to
bring in extra chairs,
though she was a newcomer
to this community.
When cancer is found,
why not call everyone
to celebrate the life
while the body is there to hear?
Why not send her off for chemo
with these stories of love,
respect, and support?
Why wait to gather
when she’s not here
to receive the blessing?
.
.
.
Memorial today, packed house to celebrate Auntie Linda. I just kept wishing she’d been here to know how many lives she’d touched.
I was reminded of a send off my friend had for her husband when he was heading south for radiation, bone marrow transplant, etc. Relatives came from afar, friends packed the building. We sang, we told stories, we laughed, we sent him off with blessings for his young family, knowing in his heart how he’d inspired people. When he passed away a few months later, we gathered all again with sadder hearts, but that time together lifting him up has stayed with me as a very precious occasion to support a young family in a time of tragedy.
Shawn L. Bird 