You tell me
you’re afraid
of the inevitable destination
of this journey,
and I can’t help you.
I’ve never been there,
and I don’t know what to say
to ease your fear.
poem-what they said September 23, 2014
While he was dying
the nurses at his bedside
chatted with one another.
When he came back to life
he told them what he heard
and they could not
meet his eyes.
.
.
(true story)
poem-tynchal (an #Outlander poem) September 16, 2014
“Score one for the pig,” she said,
but a hunter limping, partially gored
not prudent from the perspective
of a boar.
A roar marks the victory:
Geordie’s blood stains the earth
entrails pour onto leaves
at what is the more satisfying score
for the boar.
.
.
An Outlander poem, based on TV show ep 104 “The Gathering”
poem-angel laughter August 12, 2014
After
yesterday’s tears,
Today
on the breeze
I hear the
laughter
of angels
.
.
#RIPRobinWilliams
poem- clown tears August 11, 2014
Our laughter
will have a poignant pain,
knowing now
what such joy
cost you.
.
.
.
#RIPRobinWilliams
poem-lily August 2, 2014
The scent
wound around the room
burrowed up the nostrils
and drained out eyes.
Set away
from sensitive noses
the lily’s petals have fallen
and still its heavy scent
fills the heated air,
present in death,
like warm memories
of you.
poem-lost gift July 25, 2014
Family and friends
gather for funeral to
tell stories:
laughter
tears
admiration
appreciation.
I hope she knew
she touched this many.
that they’d have to
bring in extra chairs,
though she was a newcomer
to this community.
When cancer is found,
why not call everyone
to celebrate the life
while the body is there to hear?
Why not send her off for chemo
with these stories of love,
respect, and support?
Why wait to gather
when she’s not here
to receive the blessing?
.
.
.
Memorial today, packed house to celebrate Auntie Linda. I just kept wishing she’d been here to know how many lives she’d touched.
I was reminded of a send off my friend had for her husband when he was heading south for radiation, bone marrow transplant, etc. Relatives came from afar, friends packed the building. We sang, we told stories, we laughed, we sent him off with blessings for his young family, knowing in his heart how he’d inspired people. When he passed away a few months later, we gathered all again with sadder hearts, but that time together lifting him up has stayed with me as a very precious occasion to support a young family in a time of tragedy.
poem-drowning July 15, 2014
Word came
that the ship was lost:
No survivors.
Her beloved
perished amid a storm
In her dreams
she sees him
swimming
swimming
swimming
swimming
swimming
swimming
swimming
sinking
sinking
sinking
drifting
drifting
drifting
on her
tears.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I suppose this could be about Echo in the Bone by Diana Gabaldon, but in fact, it came from listening to The Lost Wife by Alyson Richman. It also reminds me of a family story.
My grandfather was a ship captain on the St. Lawrence Seaway. One day, a knock came on the door, and my grandmother was told gravely that his ship had sunk, and he was lost. This would no doubt have been far more traumatic, had grandpa not been sitting in the living room at the time.
poem- grandma June 28, 2014
I have lost her words
The narrative spun away
across the void of time.
I no longer hear her voice
echoing through my mind.
But here
a grocery list
a flash of history
Though mostly she is lost
to time and left
a mystery.
poem-dying June 27, 2014
One tumour
one bed
two hands clasped
four walls
five chairs
eleven shallow breaths a minute
twenty-four syringes of pain meds
counting down now
four days since you ate
five days since you spoke
how many hours
of life?
.
.
.
Good bye Auntie Linda
who passed away at 10 p.m. June 26, 2014
apparently moments before I wrote this poem.
I’d been with her at 9 p.m.
.
Shawn L. Bird 