Blue sky
Slight breeze
Rocking of the lounge
Toss the dog’s ball
Feel summer approach.
Thunder in the south
Booming concussion shakes the land
Storm brewing
Run or
Hold fast?
poem- acceptance May 30, 2019
Sometimes
there is no why
there simply is.
Your body
came into the world
like this.
The cancer in your family line.
The inclination to heart disease.
That birth defect.
Desperate fear
brings joy to snake oil salesmen
who’ll tell you whatever you need to hear.
Fake healers with degrees from schools of blarney.
Double blind research shows it’s no different that a placebo.
You don’t need an expensive sugar pill;
Just accept the hope
without the hype.
Believe you will get better,
and your body will believe you,
without sharing fake cures that might kill you,
without wasted dollars in fake cures flushed
away, and if your body doesn’t accept cure,
live today.
poem- adding May 23, 2019
Such said
This said
Opening griefs
Slamming happiness
No no no.
Embracing
unexpected dreariness
welcome solitude
The rain washes everything
clean.
poem-right for you May 18, 2019
For Linda, and those Fluevog Heidi boots… 🙂
.
Never felt right for me.
Sloppy here
Too tight there
Almost like they just weren’t meant to be.
Then you came along
singing those songs
inspiring me.
You made me laugh
A rough task when my brain is broken.
When we had a chance to meet
Your floral feet put right next to mine
The sky lit with possibility of
A perfect fit.
Almost as if I’d been meant to keep them safe for you
Almost as if they were waiting.
I’m waving those babies good-bye as you drive down the street.
I’m elated we had a chance to meet,
’cause those boots were plainly meant for your feet.
They’re meant for dancing to the beat
stomping on bad days,
striding places
where I was never going to take them.
I know it’s absolutely true:
Those boots were meant for you.
poem-you did it May 15, 2019
for Tai
.
You’ve always been a mountain climber.
Sometimes climbing means tumbling to the valleys.
Sometimes it means diving into sparkling mountain lakes
and becoming entangled with weeds
that pull you down.
Who knew you could drown while climbing?
You’ve always been a mountain climber.
Sometimes every part of you aches for a break,
longs for the plateau.
Rest.
But you keep climbing,
because sometimes, when you stand on the summit,
see the world laid out before you
a carpet of overcoming,
you see all the opportunity;
you see you can fly.
poem- small talk May 13, 2019
Sunny cashier:
“Did you have a good Mother’s Day yesterday?”
Contemplation.
Truth.
“No.”
Pause.
Longer pause.
Sunny voice: “I left the kids with the husband and
spent a lovely time on the lake. It was just what I needed!”
“Ah. Nice.
For some of us, it’s a time of grief.”
(Honesty is the best policy).
Still cheery: “Oh. Yes!”
Oh, dear.
Some of us, once safely through a horrid day,
are tripped by reminders of our private grief
in chirpy questions at a till.
When you tear open wounds,
what did you mother teach you to do?
poem-another day May 12, 2019
Reverberating agony
extruding writhing beasts
into the world.
Succubi at the breast,
wails in the night.
Small shrieking terrors
racing up corridors, escaping
in department stores.
Feed them. Mind them. Hold them.
Love them. Drive them.
Pimple popping, attitude rocking,
trouble stalking.
Feed them. Love them. Release them.
Celebrate them.
Wait for them.
Wonder what
went
wrong.
poem-should it be that way? May 10, 2019
It was a suicide.
Two weeks have passed.
“The funeral is today.
Or. Not a funeral. A celebration of life.”
Matter-of-fact voice.
How many times had intention
shown him this path?
That prescription the only protection
against this road.
“Would you like me to come with you?”
Translation:
Let me watch you in this crowd.
See if I can read your mind.
“No. I’m going to stand. It’ll be crowded.”
Did he know,
so many people would want to be there?
Did he know,
so many people cared?
Or was he counting on them,
covering for him when
he wasn’t there?
Two paths forking off this road,
wives watching the journey,
or buried by it.
poem-they’re all the same May 6, 2019
Pick up any yearbook
any place
any year.
Turn the pages,
you will recognize them.
That one:
always so friendly.
That one:
forever in trouble.
That one:
so cool.
That one:
Oh! The music!
That one:
skipped more than attended
That one:
kept you up nights,
worried about wise choices
safe places.
Any yearbook,
familiar faces,
each so unique,
every one the same.
Poem- Someone tells you April 29, 2019
How do you find
the magical opportunity that transforms you?
How do you find
the courage to release your words
trust your ideas
show your vision.
How do you find
those places, waiting for you?
Shawn L. Bird 