fuzzy tongue fumbles around words
brain, caught in clouds, reaches for fleeing thoughts
feet stumble, avoid tumbling
body rocking, skin tingling
when the doctor says, ‘these pills will be out of your system
in four or five hours,’ here is double time paradox,
tenacious effect.
Murmuring voices
racing around me, vacuum engine growl,
white noise.
Words without meaning.
Sound without sense.
There you are.
Your mouth moves,
but I can not hear you
anymore.
I read your words
poetic rendering
of a message you
send to the world.
I read your words
seeking for your
meaning. Seeking
without success.
I read your words
and they are only
bar bar babble.
Your words shout
they moan and cry.
I read your words
but I can’t find
your message.
I read your words,
but
I am not your
cryptographer.
I am overwhelmed
by my responsibilities
and the weight of my grief
that creeps up unexpectedly
to undermine my clarity
to bury me with memories
and underscore my sense of loss.
I’ll hide myself from Helios: find
some sand to stick my head beneath.
The mark was missed
the complications overwhelmed the need
for simplicity
and now the resulting confusion
obliterates the good intentions and the message
that she thought was being conveyed.
The arrow did not hit the target;
it is quivering in a tree several feet away,
but at least it’s not in anyone’s
back.
Oh, I know the row you hoe
is dreary and full of woe!
or so you are inclined to think
but we are not defined by your narrow ink
We see you fear to be seen as less
You shout. you rave, you wave distress
It’s not about what we do, dear,
We are not the problem here.
We watch serene, your freak out scene.
We see your strengths, your skills, your care.
We know you’re kind and very fair.
You’re really great. Don’t be irate!
You perceive attacks where there are none.
There’s no one talking at your back.
You do not seek to clarify,
Oh, my, how you leap to conclusions
Each based simply on illusions.
I know perception makes reality
but I encourage you to find serenity
Ultimately, you can not be
great when you can’t see what true,
and when people are contentedly accepting you.
She slashed him.
.
Pain scratched and yowled around his brain,
longing for palliation.
He saw compassion and affection in your eyes
wrapped his hands across your neck and
in the explosion of agonized ecstasy,
you choked down his hurt.
.
She twitched her fingers.
.
With his backward gaze,
he saw anguish curling lithely behind your eyes.
You saw his pitying relief, even as his pain
purred so loudly in your head
it blocked the words
he should have said.
.
.
.
This one is for Amber
I woke this morning
pleasantly foggy and
imagined my day.
What workshops will I attend?
Yes. That one. This one.
Then I stretched my mind
into clarity and realized
conference is over;
everyone has gone home.
It was a melancholy moment,
before the smile,
savouring memories.
.
.
.
.
A memory like this one. My dear husband, grinning broadly with Diana Gabaldon beside him outside the conference banquet. This is the first time he’s met an author whose work he admires. I’m laughing because I just had to sprint down the hall to get into the photo. Despite being with Diana all weekend and snapping many photos of her with/for other people, this moment was the only one I had taken with her myself this year.
P.S. The counter says that this is my 1400th blog post. Nice to celebrate with two of my favourite people! 😉
What you wanted to be
Everything you wanted to see
Was it you who lied?
Or was it me?
What dreams did you hide
in the tears you cried?
Was it you who lied?
Or was it me?
When your mother sighed
When your father denied
When you tried to foresee
Was it you who lied?
or was it me?
Were we lacking in pride?
Why could you not confide?
We simply could not see
so was it you who lied?
or was it me?
Daily Blog prompt #47 What Part of life confuses you?
.
What is the meaning of life?
to love and be loved
Nope that’s not confusing.
Why am I here?
To love and be loved
That’s not confusing.
Why do we have to learn this stuff?
Because you need to understand so you can
love and be loved.
That’s not confusing.
Why do bad things happen?
Some folks don’t know how
to love or be loved.
That’s not confusing.
What’s confusing?
Math.
It’s amazing how it orders the universe,
but it’s confusing.
except
my love plus your love
multiplies into our love.
No confusion there.
.
This prompt really irritated me, because I don’t find many things confusing. I tend to shrug off connundroms as unworthy of too much attention, since ambiguity is the nature of most situations and since one person’s confusion is another person’s complexity. I suppose I have a rather simple philosophy. After brewing over it all day, I stepped out of my car as I got home from work, and the light bulb pinged above my head illuminating one word: math. As an English major, I never could figure out that higher level math stuff. Math majors might find it complex, but not confusing. For me, theoretical mathematics twist my brain in painful ways. So here is my offering. When things are too complex and confusing, simplify until you’re at the basic elements. There it is: love.
Shawn L. Bird 