It might happen
What could be?
Look for possibility
Dream big.
poem-inside August 14, 2015
On the outside, I am smiling
and laughing.
On the inside, I am squealing
oh my god!
oh my god!
oh my god!
oh my god!
while leaping about the room
doing back flips.
On the outside
I just seem happy.
On the inside
I’ve gone super nova.
.
.
.
(sometimes I wish I was 2 again, so I could act out these moments of euphoria)
poem- small August 12, 2015
I am in the pet store, studying dog food
Oh, here you are! I saw your car!
Chat for 30 minutes with a friend I haven’t seen in awhile.
Buy dog food.
Go to fabric store, looking at sewing machines.
Oh, here you are! I saw your car!
Chat for 30 minutes with a friend I saw just last week.
Run into a student. Oh! What are you doing these days?
Chat for five minutes.
Hey! I know someone who’s hiring in your field, I’ll send you her contact.
Driving down the street, pedestrians wave greetings.
Everywhere you go in a small town
you know you belong.
.
.
.
(and sometimes errands take MUCH longer than planned!) 😉
poem-today August 11, 2015
Today I will make the choices
that lead to met goals.
Today I will choose
not to procrastinate.
Today I will accept responsibility
and do what must be done.
Today I will be a grown-up.
Tomorrow?
We’ll see.
poem-sculpting August 10, 2015
I’m sculpting an image of you
molding and twisting clay into your likeness.
You emerge from mud as a miniature relief
and I sigh that I remember your face at all.
I’m sculpting you, creating who I wish you were
You emerge determined to be yourself,
no matter my intentions.
In the end, clay is inadequate for both of us.
poem-prepared August 9, 2015
Lord Baden-Powell had it right when he advised the Scouts to Be Prepared
especially in summer paradises, the drop in visitors are far from rare.
But while the public zones might meet pass inspection
the bedrooms require some interjection and disinfection
Explosions of laundry piled in the guest room
Slow motion quandry to solve in a hurry
Hang up the phone, fly into a flurry
Hang up the clothes; Come we must hurry!
In just twenty minutes make this space habitable
for twenty minutes we must be indefatigable!
Make up the beds. Whip round the vacuum,
then answer the door bell crooning, “Good afternoon!”
poem- new August 8, 2015
Your touch
peels off the layers
and leaves me new.
.
.
.
.
(This is a sunburn poem, but don’t tell anyone. It sounds so much more romantic if you don’t know!)
poem-lecture August 7, 2015
It wouldn’t do for you
to behave that way;
we have expectations
requiring regurgitation of
regulations. Speak as told
don’t be bold, just hold this reeking
treatise of broken society for me
and do what you are told to do.
poem-dust August 6, 2015
Small re-locations reveal borders
Dust thick upon the mantle
My dust
Your dust
Road dust
the universe converging
amidst candlesticks and glass birds
settling on the surface
of my listlessness.
poem- fire again August 5, 2015
Where there’s smoke, there’s fire, they say
and all around me is grey.
The hills are obscured by haze
the acrid scent of it bites my nostrils
creates an ache in my throat, until
I want to go anywhere but here, where
there is fear of fires leaping valleys
razing the city. July in BC, seems to mean
burning bushes, without any sign of divinity.
Shawn L. Bird 