Yes,
you said,
We will.
Yes,
you said,
I will.
Yes,
you said,
We should.
Yes,
you said,
I could.
Yes,
you said,
We would.
Yes,
you said,
I do.
seeds of longing May 26, 2013
your breath
drifts across my nostrils
soft as dandelion dreams,
floats past my ears
whispering mystic riddles,
touches my lips
with promised kisses,
lingers like laughter
o’er our tomorrow.
.
.
Pondering workshop advice from Garry Gottfriedson at Word on the Lake. “Love poems should use soft sounds,” and “never mention the word love…”
listen May 24, 2013
I am here
to listen.
I want to savour each word
of the story you create
to make meaning of the world.
I am here
to listen.
I want your words to come
clear on the air
to my ear,
each one a gift.
I want to listen
So speak your passion
in whispers and shouts
enunciated
truncated
dissipated
like leaves in fall
wisked away by wind.
I want to capture each one
so your story
becomes part of my story,
so I can raise my voice
sing my song,
tell my tale.
We share together:
I am;
hear.
.
.
Tonight I was at the Shuswap Association of Writers Coffee House, presented annually in conjunction with Word on the Lake Festival of Readers and Writers. I heard some amazing writers and poets read, some were easier to appreciate than others. I like when the poet savours his/her words, and crafts the reading like a performance piece, so you can experience the poem. I dislike when a poet tosses off meaningless dribble, and then explains it, and the explanation is a better poem than the poem, itself. Bad form, famous poet, bad form. There was great stuff to enjoy, though, as there always is.
Dam fine day May 8, 2013
Today I watched beavers
busily engaged in beaver chores:
swimming the branches to the lodge
packing mud in the dam
waddling from one pond to another.
A rodent family at work,
improving their neighbourhood
thinning the trees that keep out the sun
and improving water habitat.
It was worth
the blisters and the swollen feet
now soaking in Epsom salts.
.
.
News article about this beaver family:
http://www.saobserver.net/news/138054823.html
A youtube video about habitat restoration by beavers:
Poem: You’re Dead (pt. 2) May 5, 2013
You’re dead.
My head
a kharmic muddle
I mull upon
morality,
your despair,
a pall
wrapped ’round
mortality.
You’re dead.
(Still trying to wrap my head around the murder/suicide last week of a kid I knew and worried about).
Poem: You’re dead May 4, 2013
You’re dead.
You’ve bled
a carmine puddle
that pooled and
dripped down
the road,
drained
under my door
and into
my head.
Trust time May 3, 2013
It gets better.
Whatever pressure
is crushing you,
whatever frustrations
are tearing you apart,
will end.
Permanent solutions
to temporary problems
are a waste
of who you could be.
Don’t take drastic actions
when patience could prevail
and provide purpose
for the brilliant future
you deserve.
Whatever burdens you,
buries you,
bullies you,
will end.
Call for help
It’s here.
Hold hope in your hands.
Give your future a chance.
Trust time to release you
from pain,
not death.
.
.
In an exercise of hope, I wrote this in present tense, though it is a letter to a brilliant young man who once sat in my class room, and sadly did not trust time: so much potential, crushed by despair, frustration and anger. I am mourning the loss of his shadowed light in our world. It only needed time for it to shine brilliantly, but he did not wait to see.
Fluevog addict? May 2, 2013
Apparently,
someone arrived at my blog
yesterday, having used
the search term
“Fluevog addict.”
Ouch.
That seems a little harsh.
Addict?
Really?
Couldn’t we just say
“aficionato?”
or “connoisseur?”
Addict?
Come on now.
That’s definitely over-stating.
Seriously.
.
Um.
Did I tell you?
To celebrate my Master’s placement
I have Prepared Hi Steadies coming ?
Aren’t they gorgeous?
Way cheaper than a party to celebrate,
and I get to enjoy them for ages!
years!
Rather than a single evening.
That’s not addiction.
That’s just…
happiness.
😉
Oh, and
John Fluevog thinks I’m awesome!
So there.
.
(Well fine, he probably thinks you’re awesome, too)
.
.
.
PS>
Fluevog liked this poem so much, that they sent me a mug! Yay! 🙂 They know how to feed their addic… >>cough<< …fans. Many thanks to Preet at the Vancouver Granville Fluevog store, who takes good care of me, AND sends me presents! (If you look closely, you can see that the mug says “Juan Fluevog” I think that’s hilarious. Vog humour. HA!)
Incorrigible canine May 1, 2013
Hot water tap turned with a toe,
A fairy tale is unfolding
In my brain, page by page.
Dusty Dog is curled into a ball
Hubby snoring through the wall
A suspicious rustling
heard down the hall.
“OJ? Are you getting into trouble?” I call
to my incorrigible canine,
plainly awoken from his nap on the couch.
He clicks nearer, ’til he’s
outside the bathroom door.
“Were you getting into something?” I ask softly.
Slow feet start to move away.
“You need to stay out of trouble. Go to your bed, OJ.”
I say in a firm whisper.
Click click
Two steps toward the living room.
“OJ.”
Pause.
“OJ. That’s the wrong way.
Go to bed.” Spoken so silently that
sleeping husband will not hear.
Oh, so, slowly OJ turns
And strolls, almost like it was his idea,
Into his room.
I hear him jump onto his bedroom futon.
Good bad dog.
I turn the page in my book,
and add more hot water with my toes.
Dusty sleeps the blessed sleep of the innocent
on his own bed towel, dreaming dog dreams.
Later, warmly water logged,
I investigate the disaster,
Dusty at my feet.
My purse on a chair, formerly zippered closed
Has been opened and disembowelled.
I pull out the camera to photograph
The scene of the crime.
OJ wanders down the hall,
hopeful.
He meets my eyes.
“OJ. This is bad.” I tell him, shaking my head.
“Very bad.”
He looks at the floor.
“You need to be back in your room before I get angry with you.”
He soulfully studies me, sighs
then takes the circle route,
through the kitchen,
Back to his room.
Such a bad, good dog.
.
.
That black/gold cloth bag is an organizer. Each compartment is usually full of something- pens, makeup, business cards, shopping bags, keys, flashlight, notebook, etc. so things can be transferred easily between purses. The bag was a mess, the organizer as you see.
If you click on the Category POODLES >>> on the right>>> you can read more of OJ’s adventures. He is an incorrigible counter surfer, and food scrounger. He opens packages (he loves ziplock bags, even if there is nothing edible in them). He likes to investigate my purse, whenever I am foolish enough to leave it within his reach. After I yelled at him for eating through linings (on my brand new, expensive bag!) he has not once eaten through another lining, but carefully manipulates the zippers, sometimes a series of zippers, and occasionally buckles in order to explore. I have no idea how. Poodles are considered the second most intelligent dogs (second only to Border collies), and it’s because of their phenomenal problem solving abilities. OJ plays dumb and lazy much of the time, but he has some amazing skills. (I call these “bad talents” and there is a blog series about them.)
Do you have an incorrigible canine character at your house?
.
Dusty Dog and the oh so innocent looking incorrigible OJ:
Dusty and OJ
ouch April 26, 2013
head in vice
waves of fire engulf me,
then ebb, and I’m left drenched
boiling in my skin
head in vice
.
.
I’m home sick today. This is why. 😦 These debilitating waves have been coming all morning. It’s horrible. I was in bed until noon, when the need for pain killer forced me to move. It is not pretty. I hope you’re having a much better day!
Shawn L. Bird 