Your name drips heavy irony:
joyful, playful, desirable.
Was that a youthful you
I never knew?
What carved through
who you were meant to be
and left such an antipode
behind?
poem- him December 14, 2018
Yes, there is laughter;
I see it sparkling in those eyes,
twinkling in the crevices of his face.
I see it dancing,
in those jaunty steps,
off-kilter, long-legged ramblings.
I see it in the shaking shoulders,
heaving joy, hard embraces.
There is laughter through that body,
whether we hear it
or not.
poem-interpretation February 6, 2018
The Lord of All Knowledge,
Gatekeeper of Truth,
says the poem means this.
Generations of readers bow
before this wisdom,
even though they don’t see it,
can’t believe it,
they just accept it.
When the poet reads
the critic’s piece,
she laughs and laughs
at the irony of such arrogant
assumptions!
Oh, student!
Good reader!
There are no errors
of interpretation in poetry!
Your experiences show you a meaning,
and if you can find lines to support,
your responses are just as valid as any critic’s.
(So the famous poet said to me,
and he should know).
poem-good company August 24, 2014
In this time
I can watch a TV show
and share thoughts
impressions
giggles
and sighs
with others watching
simultaneously
all across the country.
Humming Twitter feed
makes for good
company.
Unlike chickens.
.
.
#OutlanderCAN #kiltit This poem references a famous line from the first really intimate conversation between Jamie and Claire
“When I woke, I was trussed up in the wagon wi’ the chickens, jolting down the road to Fort William.”
“I see, I said quietly, “I’m sorry. It must have been terrible for you.”
“Oh, aye. Chickens are verra poor company, especially on a long journey.”
Diana Gabaldon. Outlander Toronto: Seal Books. p. 90
Shawn L. Bird 