I’m flipping the pancake
and no furry friend is tangled in my legs
hoping for disaster.
poem-labels February 27, 2016
She is nestled up against him
waiting for the whispered words
of adoration, desire.
He sighs contently, and tells her
she is cuddly.
That sounds like a teddy bear she says.
He pulls her closer, nuzzling into her neck,
but a single tear rolls down her cheek.
poem-return February 26, 2016
Two geese fly
over the lake
bringing spring
with each flap
of their wings.
poem-trained February 25, 2016
Eyes forward
Seeing what he wants to see.
Ears closed to cries or criticism.
Fill out the forms
Check the boxes.
Everyone must fit somewhere,
conformity is the only rule.
Follow the tracks.
poem-journey February 24, 2016
There is anticipation
in the preparation
equal to arriving
at the destination.
poem-hopes and fears February 23, 2016
You know everything
at least you think you do
and constraints of adult expectations
are irritation to you.
So that older guy on social media
successfully calls you
offering freedom and attention
and you leave confidently,
but we fear your bravado
will crash into a predator
and send you cringing home
your security crushed
forever, by the wisdom gained
too late and too painfully.
poem-fake out February 22, 2016
They mandate learning
You must be here
You must go to this website
You must explore
And they are so unprepared
their website crashes
no one can reach it
and we just shake our heads
at the irony
of the sad reality
of their expectation we rely on this technology.
poem-ashes to ashes February 21, 2016
I feel you curled against my back.
I stroke your warm body.
I gaze into your soft brown eyes,
that gaze lovingly back to me.
I wonder whose ashes are in the box:
Conspiracy theories.
Painful realities ring with the alarm clock,
and my contentment turns to ashes.
poem-floor level February 20, 2016
Floor level is less interesting
Fewer blankets and pillows are piled into corners
for you to collapse upon.
Crumbs aren’t cleaned up by a searching tongue.
No floor level greeter welcomes me home
No floor level sniffer seeks a snack of his own
Floors stay cleaner: no foot prints at the door,
no water puddles down the hall.
Sometimes I still see you from the corner of my eye
and once again, I say good-bye.
.
.
An unconventional art hanging spot, that feels just right.
The print is by Zefi Famelis of http://www.zefiart.com. It’s called “Eyes of Love.” I’ve had it for several years, but now it’s in the living room. Here’s a closer look:
Shawn L. Bird 