A poem for Cheryl: 1964-2018
.
In every photo
you’re focused on those you love:
eyes gleaming,
radiating joy.
You wrap your arms around
grinning little girls,
smother them in kisses,
tackle them with tenderness.
Mother, mother, mother
in every fibre.
And now the children are bereft,
and your laughing eyes
have left the world.
We will look for your smile
in children who will never know you,
and see your laughter through your daughters’ eyes
as they embrace their babies.
An unexpected opportunity
A lovely surprise.
Or not.
Thwarted by absence.
Then presence.
Nothing’s ever quite what’s imagined.
Intention yields to alteration
or obliteration.
Wishes wasted by
reality.
Nevertheless, we continue
to try.
We’re at the precipice
You and I.
You’re in the harness,
tethered to a kite,
ready to leap.
I lean back from the edge,
Nervous of wings
Air currents,
carrying you away,
dropping you
where?
Mountains
Valleys
Tangling into trees,
I like safety
Side lines
You see
Sight lines
inclines
outlines
freedom.
You leap.
I wonder what will be
What all this means for me.
He’s just not that into you
The world is large and full of fish
swimming through plastic
bread bag jellyfish by the belly full
Walk, don’t run!
Dead man’s float
Be a Star fish, children!
I can make you a star, baby!
Grow a limb
Waggle pseudopods
False feet
Steppin’ out with my baby
Can’t go wrong, when it’s this right
Mr. Right’s all wrong again
Really,
the problem is
She’s just not into him,
Move on!
How much is that doggy in the window?
.
NaPoWriMo prompt for today is to write a poem that sounds like it’s meant to be spoken aloud. The examples were constructed with juxtaposition of original words with snippets of commonly heard things, sayings, song lyrics, conversations, etc.
I turn on the TV:
Hockey commentary.
I am ten again.
Dad’s in the family room.
Whooping
Groaning
Arguing with the ref.
I feel a rush of nostalgia.
Turn the channel.
He serves: I’m working late
She returns: Sounds good. I think I’ll go out, myself
He lobs: Who are you going with?
She returns: Why does it matter?
He stretches, just manages: You might be in an accident. I should know where to look.
She returns to the far corner: So I can stop into the office and see you this evening?
He turns too slowly, can’t reach far enough: Uh.
Zero love.
#NaPoWriMo prompt 16 about a game.
(Still writing poems that connect with my current novel writing project)
At last
you are shedding the neutral grey and white,
wrapping yourself in a green gown,
sparkling with iridescent dew
tumbling like velvet
into a glassy pool
still ice cold,
quivering on the brink.
Hear the promise:
morning chorus, finches singing
their hopeful hearts to spring.
#haibun (I hope!) for #NaPoWriMo Day 12
I’ve never tried a haibun before. I hope I’ve caught the sense of them.
It’s a mercy, they say
nodding sagely.
Mercy it may be,
but I’m seeking grace,
for mercy does not
alleviate grief.
This moonlit night,
snow glowing with
luminescent memories,
I stroll along the old paths
thinking of the mystery you
made of me.
Identity molded like play dough
childhood laughter
leaching from the cracks of yesterday.
I can’t say anymore
who I am.
.
(another character perspective poem about Lydia & Dustin)
It is.
It isn’t.
Me.
You.
A circle compounding compromises.
Conviction carries us.
I promise.
I pound.
I promise
I pound.
I paint
conviction
carrying
us.
It is.
It isn’t.
Promising.
(A poem for Dustin & Lyda, Jason & Kirindip. These are characters in the current w.i.p. novel).
Shawn L. Bird 