I never wrote you a poem.
Your laughter was a song;
I rose upon its melody.
I gave other boys the words,
while you received my joy.
.
.
In memory of Lloyd.
poem- brush off December 29, 2013
Thanks for the compliment,
but I’m not interested.
.
You seem like a nice guy,
and some girl will be lucky
to have you,
but I’m not interested.
.
Look,
it’s like this,
to be honest,
I’m kind of repelled by you,
your breath is rank,
you have an unpleasant body odor
that is not masked by that cologne,
(which, by the way, I think
I’m allergic to)
your hair hasn’t been washed
in way too long
and the pustules erupting on your
forehead and your emaciated form,
do nothing to attract me.
The state of your clothing
suggests a negative cash flow.
So you see, I’m not interested.
I don’t need a Chippendale
or a millionaire,
but a little effort on your part
would help your cause.
.
I’m not a bitch, buddy,
I’m just not interested.
poem- Ode to the @ShawFireLog December 23, 2013
Oh beautious fire
Seeking to break
from the TV screen
and to devour
the drapes forever
out of reach.
I feel your pseudo-warmth
and hear your rich
crackling call.
Festive fire
Turned and fed
by the flannel
garbed arm,
you will not harm,
shoot cinders far,
force risk by axe
splitting logs, or
lugging them inside.
My floors are clean
but lack the lingering
scent of cold pine.
Yet still, you remind me
of fires from Christmases past
and fires yet to be.
You are quite festive enough
for me.
(This poem appeared in Runo Päivässä ~ Poem a Day. Turenki, Finland: Kantarelli Publishing. 2014)
Shawn L. Bird 