You are a paper peacock
morphing into something new
lines blurring blue
sky, scarlet, golden paint
make me fly.
.
A poetry prompt from http://catherinemjohnson.wordpress.com/2014/08/04/poetry-prompt-bird
poem-migraine August 3, 2014
Claws in the hall,
a staccato jack hammer,
burrow into my brain.
The A/C unit
roars and reverberates
in my skull.
Dull morning light
pierces through my eyelids
burning like a laser.
A storm roils
in my stomach washing up waves of
star studded agony.
Heat washes over, steam rises.
A freezing blizzard follows.
Desperately I seek
the peaceful
oblivion of sleep.
.
.
.
(Not having a good day!)
poem-stitches August 2, 2014
Gossamer strings
weaving between
emptiness,
the lace
slides
beneath needles
as I stitch air
into beauty.
poem-lily
The scent
wound around the room
burrowed up the nostrils
and drained out eyes.
Set away
from sensitive noses
the lily’s petals have fallen
and still its heavy scent
fills the heated air,
present in death,
like warm memories
of you.
poem-tired August 1, 2014
I need new pyjamas.
The effort of hunting through stores
hurts my head.
I have fabric, thread, pattern
and machines.
It’d only take an hour to make,
But just taking
the serger out of the box
seems too great a challenge.
I think finishing my last novel
was more exhausting than
it seemed.
poem-tangled
You are a
panther of poesy
lithely elucidating
your erudition,
stalking grandiloquence,
vaulting verbiage in your
versification
until you are
a kitten tangled
in tautology.
poem-when July 31, 2014
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.
Shawn L. Bird 