The distance does not change the feelings.
the reeling,
wheeling,
squealing of my soul,
no longer whole.
The space between us stretches
and in the distance you grow small
and old,
But time has folds
in dreams I hold
you close
My soul finds healing.
Though space and time change feelings,
you haven’t changed at all.
on Twitter
On a non-stop eight hour drive,
we paused for fuel.
“What?” you asked
As you intercepted smirks
passed over your head,
when you climbed into the back seat
after the gas station bathroom break.
“Nothing,” we said, as we pulled
back onto the highway.
Even though your sister had been
traumatized when I left her
standing in the driveway as we tore off to the bus stop
that time,
while you waved at her from the back seat
and waited for me to notice,
this time
when your dad slammed the car door,
buckled up,
and drove away,
destination in his mind,
she was the one who said,
“Missing anyone?”
so when you climbed into the car,
you never even knew
you’d ever been left behind.
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(6 km=90 mins. I hate travelling to Vancouver.)
For Max
.
They come
each year
the lesser children:
intelligence
lesser
body
lesser
behaviour
lesser
abilities
lesser
esteem
lesser
You look upon each one
and tell him
he is more
she is more
Be the best
because
you are the best!
You say it
and you mean it
and bit by bit
what was lesser
grows
and they believe
they are more
than their weaknesses
they are more
than society’s expectation
they are more
than their labels
They drink your words
lips tightly closed at first
but sip by sip they are filled
until they swim in the belief
that they can
be
their best.
They leave
greater
children
Because you
believe
they are.
Someone said,
“Books are a hard-bound drug
with no danger of over-dose.”
Lies.
I am an addict.
I have clutched my paper-bound
or hard-bound drug until
my hands are frozen claws,
I have lost hours of my life
in the blink of an eye,
I opened the cover for
just a few pages before bed,
and blinked up at the dawn light
as the birds mocked outside my window.
I turn pages until my eyes
can not focus,
my lids rasp close,
my arms tremble,
my fingers numb,
my neck kinked,
but still I read on, until
my eyes
close.
I stagger in a stupor
to my bed.
When I am lost to consciousness,
my dreams are vivid,
I wake with an aching head,
the morning after.
I am a book addict.
I know over-dosing
is a danger,
but
the paper smells so good,
the rustle of the pages
is music,
the story is magic,
and I am helpless in
its thrall.
That’s all.
My name is Shawn,
and I am addicted to books.
Your angel wings brush
across my memory and hum
with melancholy song.
It is what we think we know already
that often prevents us from learning.
Claude Bernard
Isn’t this a profound sentiment? I recently heard that studies have shown that the key to success in mathematics is not being ‘math brained,’ but rather, it’s about simple perseverance. I know so many people who had to have math for a career training who just fought through, because they ‘had to have the course’ who said, “It’s much easier than it was when I was in high school.” I don’t think it’s about easier at all. I think it’s about knowing there is no other option than getting it done. That change of attitude is the key to success. We ‘think’ we suck at math, so we don’t try. When we come up against a concept that is difficult to grasp, instead of working through it, we give up. If you must have it…
View original post 133 more words
Along the journey
friends beside
we listen
laugh
talk
cry
and
walk.
As paths diverge
and rejoin
we grieve the lost
or greet new found
companions on the trek.
At times, we find a plateau
spread before us
and some stand still
admiring the view
choosing to settle
in the pleasant spot
But others walk on,
climbing hills,
exploring unimagined places,
pausing to watch a while at each
before reaching
for their hiking pole
and striding on.
Some walk forever, and see the world
and some stand still.
How to be a writer:
put words on the page every day.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Just write.
Captain T @capt_blues
Shawn L. Bird 