Our laughter
will have a poignant pain,
knowing now
what such joy
cost you.
.
.
.
#RIPRobinWilliams
poem- demon hunting June 21, 2014
You don’t believe in God
but you know demons,
up close and personally.
The ever present haunting,
sometimes out of sight
but never far,
is a billowing storm cloud,
black and ominous,
waiting to pour down upon you
waiting to wash out your roads
waiting to carry you away
too rife with hopelessness
to thrash against it.
A demon rides your shoulder,
its claws clinging to your skin,
its fury held at bay by
an umbrella of medicaments,
a pharmaceutical shelter
from the storm,
inadequate against a
demon’s tempest.
quote- babies: possibilities and reality March 16, 2014
My daughter was born on Good Friday, and Easter Sunday found me in the hospital chapel. The pastor was speaking about change. I sat in the back and bawled. I didn’t know exactly why I was crying, but I was overwhelmed with post-partum hormones and the realization that my life would never be the same. This conversation between characters Claire and Jenny reminded me of that time in my life.
“I’ve thought that perhaps that’s why women are so often sad, once the child’s born,” she said meditatively, as though thinking aloud. “Ye think of them while ye talk and you have a knowledge of them as they are inside ye, the way you think they are. And then they’re born, and they’re different—not the way ye thought of them inside at all. And ye love them, o’ course, and get to know them the way they are.. but still, there’s the thought of the child ye once talked to in your heart, and that child is gone. So I think it’s the grievin’ for the child unborn that ye feel, even as ye hold the born one in your arms.” She dipped her bead and kissed her daughter’s downy skull.
“Yes,” I said. “Before…it’s all possibility. It might be a son, or a daughter. A plain child, a bonny one. And then it’s born, and all the things it might have been are gone, because now it is.”
…”And a daughter is born, and the son that she might have been is dead,” she said quietly. “And the bonny lad at your breast has killed the wee lassie ye thought ye carried. And ye weep for what you didn’t know, that’s gone for good, until you know the child you have, and then at last it’s as thought they could never have been other than they are , and ye feel naught but joy in them. But ‘til then, ye weep easy.”
(Diana Gabaldon in Dragonfly in Amber p. 549)
poem- the other side January 10, 2014
The world is white on the outside
but she is black.
The core of her is burnt and raw,
bubbling flesh like molten lava.
The yard is sugar coated and bright
but she is dark.
The soul of her is encrusted and festering
rotting organs like gangrenous limbs.
The world is playfully building snowmen
but she is deconstructing herself.
Laughing children throw snowballs from
behind fortress walls that will melt.
Her fortress is firmly constructed;
joy will not reach her
until it bleeds away like winter.
.
.
.
.
Today’s composition explores contrast. I’m trying to be a bit Plath-like here, though it’d be hard to capture the depths of her misery without living the pathos, perhaps?
poem- faith October 27, 2013
It is enough
that you fill the hollow places.
When you’re in your darkness,
the glistening of faith in you
can find the warmth you need
so what was empty
overflows with me.
poem- sad poets October 7, 2013
So many sad poets
with melancholy eyes
savaging at their sanity
Life is brevity,
chemistry,
my sensitivity.
incredibly
lacks pleasantries.
When brains strain
against levity
it is time to
press the anti-depressants.
Broken leg,
ruptured spleen,
brain in pain,
medicine for all.
Equal opportunity
of healing for spleen,
leg or brain.
Poets, find joy
in the rain.
Poem- On another year July 17, 2013
You stand silently apart
You hover on the edges
distinct
observant
I mingle like sugar in water
wondering
wishing
longing
to draw you
into my arms
to hold you
to anchor you.
But you don’t know where
those hands have been.
You seek a quiet place
to find a peaceful oasis
for the discomfort of that skin
for the ramble of those thoughts
for the torture of that crowd
I stand apart
and watch you pull yourself
in pieces
I’m laughing and chatting
and wishing I could be enough
to give you courage
strength
faith in yourself,
but I’m not.
No matter how much
my heart is full to bursting
with wanting it.
You have to be
enough
alone.
out out brief candle March 14, 2013
Out, out brief candle
The spark of light
Is too difficult to handle
Beyond the might
Of simple mortals.
So much better to embark
through gleaming portals
into eternal dark.
Review- A Perfect Gentle Knight July 9, 2012
A Perfect Gentle Knight by Kit Pearson seemed to have an identity crisis. The main character is 11, and it read a lot like a children’s book, but it was set up as a baby boomer memoir, casually referring to events and objects that would be foreign to 11 year olds without any context or explanation. The themes are big: loss, mental illness, coming of age. I think perhaps they are too big for this 164 page format, and too big for 11 year old Corrie to do justice to on her own. I would have loved to see this story twice as long so the characters could have been more finely drawn, the dialogue used more to advance the plot, and to create more of an immersion experience. It felt like the story moved in thick chunks, rather than flowing. I think 60 year olds who grew up in Vancouver would find this a lovely nostalgic book, but I think it misses the mark as a kids’ book, which is a shame, because it could have been fantastic if 1950’s Vancouver could have become as real as, say 1900’s PEI is in the Anne of Green Gables books
Shawn L. Bird 
quote- the mind December 26, 2013
Tags: attitude, clinical depression, depression, John Milton, mental health, mind, Paradise Lost, quote
Milton said that in Paradise Lost in 1667. That’s 344 years ago, and as fine a statement on mental health as ever I’ve heard.
If you’re not clinically depressed, it expresses the simple concept that your attitude to the situation is what’s important, not the situation itself.
I’ve known a lot of people over the years who are constantly saying negative things about their hard-working, diligent spouses. For whatever reasons, they feel that bashing their spouse is acceptable sport. Inevitably, their relationships crumble, and they blame the spouse for the divorce when in fact, their own attitude is what doomed the relationship.
Speak what you want to be true, and you will make it so. Articulate thankfulness, appreciation, and passion and you will create those things.
It may only be in your mind, but your mind controls the body.
If you are clinically depressed, this quote expressed the simple concept that your perception of the situation transforms it. Other people may see simple delights, while you see complicated anguish. Your perception is valid, but don’t let it ruin you. See your doctor. You’d be willing to medicate for a heart condition, your brain deserves just as much respect.
Your mind controls the body. Make sure it’s healthy.
Share this: