Short?
Moment
by moment
stretched.
Power is not in height
but in determination.
poem-nefarious November 13, 2018
For eighteen years,
each evening when I glance out my kitchen window,
I see my elderly neighbour
at work through his window.
Suddenly, this week,
his drapes are drawn.
What nefariousness is this?
What hidden adventures is this World War 2 spy
up to now, that require such secrecy?
The neighbourhood has become far
more interesting with this mystery.
poem-aftermath November 12, 2018
The day after
the wishes flow,
the possibilities drain away.
Futility crushes the mutibility of dreams,
but tomorrow is another day.
haiku- 100th anniversary of WW1 end November 11, 2018
The guns fell silent
one hundred years ago, but
it didn’t end all war.
.
Mired in mud and blood
patriotism butchered
a generation.
.
If only those
recruitment posters were true
and their lives bought us peace.
poem-decisions November 10, 2018
Silent chatter
clattering through her mind,
shouting thoughts,
whispered shrieks,
speaking do
don’t
do
don’t.
Can it be?
Will it be?
Should it be?
Yes.
No.
Make it so.
Stuttering possibility
silently.
poem-first snow November 9, 2018
Grey morning:
sky falls in fragile pieces
past my window,
lies,
white clouds upon the ground.
This morning
I can touch the sky.
Cold comfort.
poem-seeing November 8, 2018
We fight to see
through blurs,
double vision,
colour corrected, blue filter.
Which is better, one
or two?
One?
or two?
Where do the eyes track
as you read this text?
What games does your brain play
with your eyes?
How are you blind?
Through which lenses can you see?
.
.
.
Due to my ongoing concussion symptoms, I had a visual therapy evaluation today. Fascinating stuff. Got me thinking about sight.
poem- destiny November 7, 2018
They say our traumas get encoded in our DNA,
and travel through the generations,
How much of our destiny
is granddad’s addiction, or
grandma’s depression?
Daddy’s tortured in the war,
the screams of his dreams
choke his children’s children,
how is this so?
We see reverberations
of nature, but seek solace in nurture.
Can education and positive choices
eradicate the history?
Wash clean old wounds?
Slowly nurture the nature of the DNA
to create a new playbook?
It may.
poem-this moment November 6, 2018
This is not a test.
One chance.
One.
It all counts.
This is it.
Go.
poem-crush November 5, 2018
Small pieces of hope
held tightly,
nurtured gratefully,
smashed out of my hands,
fall,
fall,
fall.
Shawn L. Bird 