Such quick fixes
stick with us.
Duct tape, while great,
for emergency execution
cannot create lasting
solutions.
poem-choosing March 31, 2016
Will I choose you?
Or you?
Or will I choose at all?
Am I ready for this work
of nurturing potential?
My world is wound tightly
with possibility,
fighting emotionality with
rationality.
poem-weeps March 30, 2016
Tears appear;
truth pools in her eyes.
She looks out the window, scenery unseen,
one droplet, breaking free, tracks a slow progress across
cheek,
chin,
neck.
Another makes the parallel journey.
She turns her face, while she waits, wishes,
then slowly grows the knowledge
that what is
will be.
She weeps out the weakness.
While there may be grief,
acceptance brings resilience.
Resilience
is the power of belief
and relief.
poem-shy March 29, 2016
I’m sure the vulture sitting there beside the deer
is eager to devour his meal,
launch red head first into the feast,
but he’s just sitting beside the prize,
to shy to dine ‘neath
prying eyes flying by on the highway,
hoping with futility for privacy to eat his meat.
.
.
This was the first vulture we’ve ever seen in the wild. It looked like this one.
poem-the river’s bride March 27, 2016
Oh, her longings are loud
and she seizes opportunities,
reads the mysteries and leaps.
.
Oh, her caution curls her
into weeping domesticity,
because she never neglects responsibilities.
.
Oh, love leaps from the river
like a dolphin and tangles in
fishermen’s nets
and bridal veils.
.
.
A little homage to the theatrical presentation of the Brazilian folk tale The River Bride by Marisela Treviño Orta, enjoying its world premier at Oregon Shakespeare Festival at the moment (2016 season). We thoroughly enjoyed the complex tale with its stunning set and lighting!
poem-perhaps it is March 25, 2016
Perhaps it is
some sort of survivor’s guilt
that the fractured fragments
the twisted tableaux of warped memories
those bêtes noires barely contained within your brain,
burst in sullen silence, tremulous terror, or
most disturbing, that zombie calm
of a human automaton.
Perhaps it is
just chemistry asserting its superiority:
neuro-biology exposing itself
as a short-circuiting electric conduit
for daily conduct.
Perhaps it is
an allegory for transformation
or
perhaps it is
futility that demonstrates fallibility
and ultimately, profound humility.
poem-ostrich day March 4, 2016
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.
poem-optimism March 1, 2016
Each year a goose takes roost in
the osprey nest platform above the mill.
I suppose penthouse accommodations entice.
The view is lovely there,
and surely she feels superior to her kin
nesting waterfront (though their
recreational opportunities are greater).
Each year, after a month of goose occupancy,
the ospreys return.
I do not know the depth of the tragedy.
Do the evicted geese simply suffer homelessness,
or do they endure the grief of infanticide, as well?
Sometimes our lofty aspirations
are our undoing.
Our hubris is our hamartia,
but each year, in early spring, there’s a goose
in the osprey nest.
.
.
.
.
Remember your Shakespeare lessons? Hamartia is the ‘fatal flaw’ of your personality that leads to your downfall (most commonly in literary tragedies). Hubris is an excess of pride.
poem-trained February 25, 2016
Eyes forward
Seeing what he wants to see.
Ears closed to cries or criticism.
Fill out the forms
Check the boxes.
Everyone must fit somewhere,
conformity is the only rule.
Follow the tracks.
poem-far November 22, 2015
As snow creeps down the mountain
I thread through the maze and take to the skies.
I’m only leaving you for a few days,
but my sighs reflect how bereft it is
to be on my own, far from the one who
makes my heart beat.
Far from you.
Shawn L. Bird 