Broken heart,
How has this child crushed hope,
Torn relationship apart?
You’re a ghost.
They don’t give a damn these days;
Occasional text at most.
Maybe time
will heal whatever lies here,
Give grace, pass this pantomime.
This is a treochair poem. The triplet stanzas have an ABA rhyme scheme, a 3, 7, 7 syllable count, and alliteration.
You don’t even look like
the person I used to know, any more
I don’t know what’s happened.
Did you get taller somehow?
Ah
No.
We don’t do that
when we’re this age.
Those childish promises
made with fervent belief
prove the power of intention:
Fealty sworn with hooked pinkies
in confident conviction.
She’s caught between the flames
of inferno and ice
Accusations of blame,
of who’s not playing nice.
She’s caught between the fury
of defeat and aggression,
For neither is sorry
and all leads to depression.
She’s caught between love
crushed between hate
a magician’s dove
that is stuffed then must wait.
She’s caught between threads
stuffed up their sleeves
’til she’s dangling her head
beneath the nearest trees.
You sit
silently
staring at your lap.
Your face
reflects sorrows
you will not describe.
Silence
is your
only safe
place.
Last night,
screeching tires,
spinning in the intersection
racing engines roaring up
and down our hill
Luckily no catastrophe
except the community
mailbox.
.
.
(an irony- post 1-666 about local hellions!)
In response to my comment
she gives me a look
like I am covered with manure
and am suggesting she join me
wallowing in a pig pen.
Nose flared, forehead creased,
like she has scented
something foul, she raises a brow
and turns away with a scowl,
still here in body, but not in spirit,
while her friends chatter and giggle
pleasantly with me.
This is absolutely delightful. Florence Baptist Temple in Burlington, Kentucky, USA sure put on a great show for their Singing Christmas Tree! These young men are quite awesome. In honour of the beginning of the Christmas season: Enjoy!
.
For Max
.
They come
each year
the lesser children:
intelligence
lesser
body
lesser
behaviour
lesser
abilities
lesser
esteem
lesser
You look upon each one
and tell him
he is more
she is more
Be the best
because
you are the best!
You say it
and you mean it
and bit by bit
what was lesser
grows
and they believe
they are more
than their weaknesses
they are more
than society’s expectation
they are more
than their labels
They drink your words
lips tightly closed at first
but sip by sip they are filled
until they swim in the belief
that they can
be
their best.
They leave
greater
children
Because you
believe
they are.
Never,
ever,
make your
mother cry.
Never,
ever,
bring tears
to her eye.
Never,
ever,
force a
melancholy sigh
Never,
ever,
make her
sacrifices lie.
Never,
ever,
make your
mother cry.
Unless,
she’s blessed,
and tears are joy
wept dry.
Shawn L. Bird 