It weaves around the sky
like jet streams tying ribbons
of air,
entangled trust
entwining wishes,
entrusting time
twisting you and me
into a braid
of mist.
poem- journeys October 6, 2014
Like a stone on the beach
she picked him up,
and took him home.
He filled her with new life,
and they held companionable
hands, two became four.
Beneath the bubble,
Poisons devoured him in relentless nibbles,
and the doctor said his only hope
was a healing journey
to a new way of life.
But toward,
is also away,
and children waved good-bye
to their skipping stone,
who crossed an ocean and
disappeared into time.
poem- tingle (an #Outlander poem) October 4, 2014
Your fingers
touch tentatively
on the back of my neck
pulling the ribbon with
slow deliberation;
your breath tangling
in the tendrils of my hair
sends tingles
tumbling to my
toes.
.
.
.
Another Outlander poem from ep 107 “The Wedding.”
poem- pickled October 3, 2014
Mrs. Pickle
taught me much about
acidic Southern charm.
Vitriol dripped from her tongue
like garlic scented vinegar
stirred into syrup: bitter honey.
Against her absurdity, laughter made a bulwark.
A champion rose up,
waving a sword of words that
sliced that pickle into tiny pieces.
A memory to relish.
poem- wasted day October 2, 2014
On this day
I remember a ghost anniversary,
the day in 1976
when my sister was married.
My 12 year old figure was
encased in my mother’s girdle
beneath a hideous rust bridesmaid gown.
I sported a new Vidal Sasoon bob,
felt bold and grown up with
my uni-brow plucked.
I remember my father’s scowl
when a groomsman with waist length hair
obeying rattling spoons, bent to kiss me,
and the resulting blush.
The marriage lasted four years.
My daughter wore the hideous dress
when she was twelve.
She called herself a princess;
rust suits her.
Too bad my sister
never saw it.
.
.
.
You know, that whole girdle thing is really weird. I was not a pudgy child by any reckoning. I probably weighed about 95 lbs around the time of this wedding. I recall it was my idea, so I must have been self-conscious of a little paunch, which at 12, was not paunch at all. Very strange how girls are, isn’t it?
.
I looked for the wedding photos in the album, but it looks like I took them out of those photo eating ‘magnetic’ glued albums, and who knows where I put them. Sorry!
poem- heaviness September 24, 2014
The mist in the hills
weighs heavily on my heart
The wind through the valley
blows bleakly on my brain
The rain from the grey
drips doggedly on my dreams.
.
.
.
It’s only Wed, but I am exhausted! I’m sure this soggy weather isn’t helping
poem-warrior weary September 16, 2014
(I was just called a “Warrior Teacher Knitting Goddess”
I think that might be my favourite compliment ever).
.
.
I am weary
Warring with words
is exhausting work
Protect democracy
Fight one battle at a time
under emotional
and financial strain
Ready to go the distance,
and now they announce
a truce, a treaty, an agreement.
The evil despot smiles
and claims a mutual victory
With narrowed eyes
I doubt.
I have seen lies
pour like water from those lips
and I will never trust that truth
comes from her tongue.
The generals say
it is over, if we weary warriors
say it is over.
I am setting down my
metaphorical sword
cautiously
with looks over my shoulder
ready to pick up the picket
and battle again
if the conditions of surrender
prove unpalatable.
Democracy is worth
personal devastation,
but it is exhausting work
being a warrior.
Poem- oh September 14, 2014
My gaze settles
on a dimpled grin
eyes laughing
amid the crowded din
Your eyes find mine
grow hooded,
and your smile
stretches languidly.
The din disappears
as we spin a web
between us.
Who is spider?
Who is fly?
poem-pudding on the premier September 4, 2014
“Who stole the bowl of pudding
I made for dessert?”
“He did!” said the chocolate coated child, pointing at
her baby brother, quietly kicking his feet in the jolly jumper.
“.
“Who is stalling contract
negotiations?”
“They are!” said the chocolate coated premier, pointing
at the teachers quietly carrying their pickets.
.
Some lies
are easier to spot
than others.
.
(Seriously Premier, why would anyone forfeit thousands of dollars of salary unless it was for something of tremendous value- like defending The Charter of Rights and Freedoms? We’re not going to give up our rights under the law! We won twice at the Supreme Court! We won’t sign a clause that says if you lose again, you won’t have to follow the justice’s decision!
Shawn L. Bird 