Dark dusky sky
Gulls cry
Gliding by, wings wiping at air
Diving down to thieve
Thoughts of tomorrow
Wasting no worries
On what might not be.
poem- squish September 12, 2022
Chest: breathless
Heart: pounds
Head: swimming
Where is this pressure coming from?
Breathe.
Slowly.
Head down.
Get through.
You can
do it.
Poem- Summer storm August 1, 2020
This air is thick enough to drown in
Wading through your words
Lightning flashes in the hills like my
anxiety after the press conference.
Summer storm raging.
They announce back to school plans.
I’m watching the hills for forest fires,
fearing the burning.
Brief respite: rain splatters on the back deck,
before oppression descends again,
and our power goes out.
poem-preservation June 10, 2019
We need to be respectful
of tender psyches, mental illness,
all the agonies of existence.
We need to be respectful
of our own tenderness
and pained existence.
When being gentle of their tender troubles,
makes aches worse for ourselves,
who needs to respect whom?
Draw battle lines,
or at least find a bastion
against cries
calling you to your destruction,
dragging you to drown in the moat of their fragility.
Be respectful of your own precious sanity.
poem-cure May 26, 2017
The demons are hiding around corners
lurking in the shadows
watching you.
I know you feel the weight
of their gaze
hear the clink of their weapons
every day.
On the sunny days,
you outrun them
find smiles to return to those
around you
in their circles of care.
Other days,
smiles are barred growls,
the glow of sinister eyes pacing
around you,
squeezing life and hope
as their circle crushes in,
suffocating you.
Your demons on their unwitting backs
Your demons in their unwitting smiles
Your demons on their unwitting feet
Your demons in their expectations
Your incessant demons
invisible to others,
writhing,
circling,
just
there.
poem-point of view May 5, 2017
So often
what I think is a conversation about me
you think is a conversation about you.
My feelings
aren’t just feelings, they’re an attack.
But they’re not.
They belong to me
and they’re allowed to be
what they are.
I long for you to acknowledge
how I feel
what I wonder
what I want
isolated from your sense
of inadequacy.
I’m tired
tired
tired of your issue
always overshadowing
any of my concerns.
Mental illness
is annoyingly
narcissistic.
Please consider other points of view.
It isn’t always about you.
Really.
Sometimes it’s about me.
poem- quivers October 6, 2016
Your anxiety
ripples the air
pushes and pulls me,
threatens my calm.
I’d breathe you my peace
but you inhale all I have
then you rustle and quiver,
vibrating me
into your distress.
The airlines say,
put on your own oxygen mask first.
I need my air.
poem-leave September 25, 2015
The dog pulls you down the street.
Your eyes are hazy,
Your hair is wild.
Your beard’s unkempt.
Your steps thud awkwardly like you’ve forgotten how to walk.
If the outside reflects the inside,
you definitely need some time
to regain your health again.
poem-lonely May 20, 2015
I do not know what to do
about your screams.
It seems you plunge
to unplumbable depths
and I do not know
how to swim.
The mists of melancholy
shroud the waters,
coat you in agony,
fog reason, and
I fear I am not lighthouse
enough to guide you home.
poem- startle May 18, 2015
No sneaking
No whispers
No clandestine act
Engine patters
Garage door rumbles
Back door slams
Yet a happy greeting yields hours of anxieties.
Something is not working here.
Shawn L. Bird 