“Writers are different,” said Waldegrave. “I’ve never met one who was any good who wasn’t screwy.”
~Robert Galbraith (aka J. K. Rowling) in The Silkworm.
Uh oh!
quote- writers January 5, 2018
poem-new January 1, 2018
And here begins
another new calendar,
Yesterday just the same,
but everything new, they say.
No hurt to take today
to contemplate,
what has been,
what is,
what may be.
No hurt to take today,
to ruminate,
to declare
that this twelve months
will bring unprecedented
opportunities,
successes beyond expectation,
joys that cause hearts to sparkle,
health in abundance.
This twelve months
will bring contentment
and satisfaction
appreciation,
and celebration.
poem- gifts December 25, 2017
It’s not the boxes,
the wait for the mail,
some dream little thing.
All that’s wanted
is you:
the slice of your heart,
the being known
by you,
being loved
by you,
being held
by you.
There is no greater gift;
your genuine love
is all that’s wanted
beneath the tree
this Christmas.
poem- December 24, 2017
Some of us
have more to contain
to be little rays of sunshine,
day to day,
but that doesn’t mean
it doesn’t do us more good
to be sunshine
than for us to complain
about our rain.
poem- indeed December 21, 2017
Indeed,
there is a moment
when hushed memories sneak,
creeping behind you.
You hear the creak, and turn
to find those lost
those missed,
those grieved.
They’re whispers caught
on remembered phrases,
favourite songs;
you’re sure you hear their voices.
Indeed, there are moments
when ghosts hover;
in memories
their love remains.
poem-gifts December 20, 2017
Downcast eyes,
a tentative
I made this for you.
Whatever it is
wrapped by hopeful hands,
holding you with a glistening gaze,
There is only one response:
It’s lovely!
Crumpled paper,
unfathomable art,
shapeless, tasteless garment,
Made it for you means
I love it.
I love it
means
I love you, too.
poem- roots December 19, 2017
And what of you?
Do dark mornings creep around your heart
Reaching through night
Pushing past sight to wrap you tightly
In tomorrow?
What of you?
Your lonely walk, your feet tapping
On cobblestones in ancestral towns,
tripping on the roots of the family tree;
calamity or peace?
I see the dream
That’s you.
poem-yoga in real life December 18, 2017
You are twisted in knots
pulled here, there, everywhere,
responsibilities,
avoiding hostilities,
paying utilities,
cleaning facilities.
You are wound tight
tossed left and right
crushed under mighty
feet, but step into this
darkened space
seek solace from the thoughts
that race,
trace peace.
Surcease.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Release.
.
.
for Lorien
poem- doublethink December 15, 2017
A modern Orwellian
metaphor,
you scientist
of faith.
You hold content within your mind
evolution;
creation.
Visible genetics of intersex
counted on chromosomes;
the old testament binary code.
You hold seven days;
dinosaurs.
Believe in hypotheses, blind studies.
Worship in blind faith.
See God in the Fibbonacci sequence,
fractals,
crystalline symmetries.
Hermetic hermeneutics:
Paradoxical predicament.
poem- creak December 14, 2017
Creak
Cracks
Broken
Backs
Strung on a rack
Creaking wheel
pulls spine taut
Entreats,
“Sweet mercy!”
Greets pain
Back
broken
cracks
creak.
Shawn L. Bird 