Are you related to? she asked
naming names.
Not those.
These, I reply.
Ah! Her!
Yes! So, you’re the writer!
I am.
and she’s a?
Yes.
She said that…
It was actually like this…
Oh!
I am a writer, too
but I’m not published yet.
I can help.
Small town networking.
Each day I arrive here
Look around
and notice it feels less like home.
Remember laughter,
feel their dreaming,
it’s all still here,
but where are my desires leading?
Could this all be coming to a close?
Are talent, skills, and luck
coalescing into
something new?
Your best feet forward
heels tapping
vamp it up
booting out negativity
sole savouring
stepping out
high kicking.
Squeal all together now:
“I LOVE your shoes!”
.
.
(for Flummunity)
.
.
.
.
.
.
(please ignore any ads WordPress puts here)
.
.
.
.
The lake is gone
The sky is gone
The ground is gone
The world has faded into monochrome
I weary of winter.
You,
the mechanical miracle worker,
refuse to accept extermination.
Armed with Youtube videos
and an amp metre
you search for solutions,
find the secret place
frozen peas hide,
discover three decades of debris.
Determination pays:
You sit back, satisfied,
when hum and chilled air,
declare life.
Death defeated.
Obliteration blocked.
Cold box immaculate in revived vitality.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
(ignore any ads placed here by WordPress. I do not endorse them).
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
..
Remember
the necklace you gave me.
Four golden strands I wanted to love
for your sake.
Every time I wore it,
it turned into a tangled disaster,
wrapped up in itself.
So like us.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
(please ignore any ads placed by WordPress. They are not authorized by me)
.
.
.
.
.
..
A Facebook found poem, with thanks to Liz.
.
See the tense bodies, tentative smiles,
step through the door into new beginnings,
slip into a new desk, a new view,
ready?
Stretch understandings,
begin again!
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
(ignore any ads put here by WordPress. I do not endorse them)
The moon lingers in blue sky,
listening to Styrofoam™ squeaking boots
on crispy, cold snow.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
(ignore ads added by WordPress)
.
You are small
boisterous
black
bouncing
excitement,
eager for the ball,
but
the snow is deep
and when you chase
you
disappear
into a crystalline abyss.
Such gleeful eyes
burst from the bank
and shake off
that which buried you.
Shawn L. Bird 