(with apologies to William Carlos Williams)
.
This is just to say
I have eaten
The last
of the tortilla chips
I know you
Were saving them
For a bedtime snack
But like you
they were salty
And so delicious.
How could I resist?
poem- This is just to say November 13, 2022
poem- this is love November 13, 2020
The scrape of the snow shovel begins
just as my alarm rings.
The snow is heavy and ankle deep.
You should take my vehicle today, he says.
The studded tires stick to the road.
This is the safer route.
Be careful!
He doesn’t say I love you,
but I know it
anyway.
poem- walk on a foggy day September 30, 2020
The clouds have come to Earth,
obscuring our panorama
narrowing the perspective
until the view is simply you and me:
this nebulous emergence,
hope and mystery.
poem- thirsty November 4, 2019
It’s all just excuses,
you’d say.
Sure. Blame me like always.
Like her feelings are an attack
somehow.
Maybe there’s something
you could do,
to acknowledge hurt and pain,
instead of defenses,
show adoration again.
poem- That Year October 30, 2019
She loves you
Diamonds in the air
Twinkling in
Street lights’ silence.
Just a snow shovel’s scraping
In the distance.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Leaf buds, bursting hope.
Unfolding pastel visions
Relief.
She loves you
Summer green
Heat hovers in the air
Living breathing furnace.
And you know that can’t be bad.
Golden light illuminates scarlet visions.
I will never say you’re beautiful
I’ll be your friend forever.
Yeah, yeah, yeah
poem-road June 23, 2019
Win win you think
and she knows your thoughts,
that you don’t imagine
hers differ.
They do.
She wants you, coming and going.
Sit beside for both parts of the journey,
find moments of connection
have those conversations
that are skipped in the day to day.
Those too rare times when you’re together
with nothing to do but hear each other.
She wants words and laughter and plans.
You leave early. A note on the counter:
meet you there.
She puts her foot on the gas pedal
and travels lonely,
as usual.
Win?
or lose?
poem- honestly February 15, 2019
If I were being honest,
(truth hurts, my love)
I’d say that while the quotidien care
powers an appreciative couplehood,
sometimes cares require more than chores.
Sometimes, it needs a hug (you first)
or cooking a meal (with vegetables) and setting candles on the table.
Sometimes it means holding hands instead of striding ahead,
and no sighs of impatience or vibrations of irritation.
(Yes. We feel those, when you’re pretending, and it spoils the effort).
Sometimes your diligence with household chores is enough to know you care,
but sometimes
we need more.
poem-hearts February 14, 2019
It’s not the chocolates,
flowers,
romantic dinners,
sexy lingerie.
It’s just the words
and actions.
Fixing the brakes,
warming the car,
clearing off snow
before I head to work.
That’s romance.
That’s love.
poem: The Game April 16, 2018
He serves: I’m working late
She returns: Sounds good. I think I’ll go out, myself
He lobs: Who are you going with?
She returns: Why does it matter?
He stretches, just manages: You might be in an accident. I should know where to look.
She returns to the far corner: So I can stop into the office and see you this evening?
He turns too slowly, can’t reach far enough: Uh.
Zero love.
#NaPoWriMo prompt 16 about a game.
(Still writing poems that connect with my current novel writing project)
poem-is isn’t April 6, 2018
It is.
It isn’t.
Me.
You.
A circle compounding compromises.
Conviction carries us.
I promise.
I pound.
I promise
I pound.
I paint
conviction
carrying
us.
It is.
It isn’t.
Promising.
(A poem for Dustin & Lyda, Jason & Kirindip. These are characters in the current w.i.p. novel).
Shawn L. Bird 