This April snow
fills the air with pink petals and
scents the sky with spring.
.
.
http://www.napowrimo.net prompt for today, Earth Day, April 22 to write a pastoral poem, one about nature.
poem- palms March 29, 2015
A moment of celebration
raise your hands, wave the palms
Palms together, clap your hands,
No palmistry to understand
when they raise you up
they’ll drop you down.
Get ready to sup and pray some.
Silver’s exchanged for a soul
just thirty little pieces.
The whole world pivots around
this moment of celebration,
before the coming devastation.
But after grief,
Relief. and
Peace.
.
.
A little Palm Sunday poem for you.
poem-dance
The music echoes through her bones
throbbing heart beat,
quivering quavers,
filling feet with rhythm.
Eyes scanning for possibilities,
Whose arms will encircle her?
Will he be the one to enfold her,
entwine their bodies,
make her sway
under his percussion?
She watches and wonders,
Shall she dance?
.
.
.
(Inspired by Richard Gere and Jennifer Lopez tonight)
poem- burning March 23, 2015
The label on the bra
reads “Keep away from fire.”
Is this a warning against
flames of excessive passion,
self-immolation, or
metaphorical representations
of feminist independence?
.
poem-cracked March 20, 2015
I am cracked earth,
parched red clay
shrinking in the sun.
You are water,
not a flood
pouring over, but
a gentle, constant rain,
infiltrating slowly,
waking dormant seeds,
bringing blossoms,
to barren hopes,
remaking me.
poem- offensive March 8, 2015
I am offended by this object.
In my messy,
but perfectly coordinated, kitchen
you have filled the clear soap dispenser
with acid yellow dish detergent,
instead of clear or white
as is the aesthetic choice.
It glares at me:
caution colour
screaming incongruity.
It hurts my eyes;
it seers my sensibility.
But you are proud
of your helpfulness,
and this is your house, too.
Perhaps if I squint,
it will be invisible?
.
.
⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓
This piece works with the theme SHARING SPACE on today’s http://www.shawnbird.com/poetic-diversity-project
Please consider sharing a poem or a link on this theme and help me with my grad school course!
poem-anxious sovereignty March 4, 2015
You and I are independent souls.
I move through the house;
You rest comfortably in contented sovereignty.
You do not need to dog my heels
to glorify each moment at my side
or expect me to worship at your feet.
You ignore me for hours,
sleeping in peaceful, self-sufficiency.
We are independent souls,
until the moment I step outside the door,
and calamity explodes in barks and whines.
It pants, scratches, and pees displeasure
at this, your desperate circumstance,
wailing at the injustice of loneliness,
vomiting up fathomless grief.
For the hours I am present, I do not exist;
for the hour I am absent, I make your world
a cavernous void.
Dog ironies
amid anxieties.
,
,
OJ is not doing well since Dusty went to the Rainbow Bridge. We’ve tried swaddling as per Thundershirt. We’ve got the Rescue Remedy. He’s in his safe, contained space. We fill the Kong with goodness. Still the dog thinks the world is ending when I walk out the door. Got any other suggestions? Except a new dog companion. Hubby imagines a dog-free household in our near future. (I’m allergic to cats, so that’s not an option either).
poem-new March 1, 2015
The birds return
set sights on sites and sing
in fervor with that mating thing
You take to the road
push pedals for a hundred k
while I wait for petals,
seek something to say
and all of these are just the way
we mark each new spring.
Me. You. New.
too.
.
.
POETS! You are cordially invited to contribute an original poem or link to https://shawnbird.com/poetic-diversity-project/ Today’s exploration- POEMS OF PLACE. Please feel free to comment instead, about your environment and how it contributes to your writing.
poem-waiting February 25, 2015
She’s waiting for the words
he will not say.
She’s waiting for the words
he should not say.
She’s waiting for the words
he does not say.
She’s waiting for the words
he could not say.
She’s waiting for the words
he can not say.
She’s waiting for the words.
poem-spell February 6, 2015
Magic dances on your finger tips;
You transform the day.
Enchantment unwinds in glistening threads
and tangles between us.
Your spell has ensnared me,
but I’ll never tell that the gleam in my eyes
came from a cauldron of your promises.
Shawn L. Bird 