Honey lips
wake me
to a dreamy reality:
Unexpected pleasures,
moonlight impressions.
Your laughter
invites me to discover
a new perspective.
.
quote- fly off
Apollinaire said
“Come to the edge,” he said.
They said, “We are afraid.”
“Come to the edge,” he said.
They came.
He pushed them…
and they flew
-Christopher Logue
This the essence of teaching: challenging our students to take a risk, so they can achieve more than they ever thought was possible.
A Hallowe’en story October 30, 2013
Time for the annual re-blog of my Hallowe’en poem… 😉 Have fun!
.
This is the time of year
They say the veil is thin.
The other side is closer
So fears well from within.
.
Harold was out driving
Along a country lane
The fog was rolling thickly
The moon was on the wane
A crash rang through the forest
As a tree fell on the road
Harold’s heart was pounding
He looked for an abode
There off in the distance
He saw a flickering light
He headed off toward it
While pushing down his fright
This is the time of year
They say the veil is thin
The other side is closer
So fear wells from within
.
The walk went on forever
Though it hadn’t seemed that far
Was the light moving also?
Soon he lost sight of his car.
A crunching noise behind him
Made him jump in fear
A huffling breath was panting
The thing was very…
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This needs to be watched. October 29, 2013
Shane Koyczan is from my home town. He is a powerful poet.
poem- fractured
I know
you’re broken.
I see the fracture lines
behind your eyes
I feel the seepage
leaking from the crack in your soul.
I have
needle, thread
glue
and hope.
I’ll share.
poem- kill the critic
Kill the critic:
let him drown in the
flow of your words.
Kill the critic:
let him sear in the
molten eruption
from the core of you.
Kill the critic:
let him smother
gasping against the tide
of your creativity,
.grasping at the emptiness
that was your insecurities.
Kill the critic:
be free.
.
.
NB: I do not advocate murder of anything but the inner voice that tells you that you’re inadequate. Your inner critic has no business in your writing head-space. You can’t edit a blank page.
poem- echoes
I bought
an adorable black hat
at Goorin Bros.
Tilted the burgundy brim
to the perfect angle
Grabbed my new
wooly black ruana,
draped it around my shoulders
with a flourish, loving the fall
of the ruffled edges,
the weight, the warmth.
I felt my creativity
shouting through the garb,
felt Bohemian, wild, and artistic.
Then I grinned in the mirror
and saw the echo of my
great-grandmother’s
Salvation Army cape and bonnet.
We never get too far away
from home.
poem- autumn ghosts October 28, 2013
City
streets
are graveyards
of summer leaves.
Their blood red corpses
crushed beneath our feet
ghostly impressions
on concrete:
art in
decay
.
(for Leena, in memory of our Yaletown adventures Sunday morning)
poem- faith October 27, 2013
It is enough
that you fill the hollow places.
When you’re in your darkness,
the glistening of faith in you
can find the warmth you need
so what was empty
overflows with me.
poem- beautiful
I love you
I want to be with you
he said
but I can’t ever call you beautiful
I’ll say lovely
and that’s better
She nodded uncertainly
wondering what that meant
Years later
she reminded him of his words.
I was an ass,
he said.
But he still could not
bring himself
to say the word.
Shawn L. Bird 