I was dreaming a poem,
consigning rhymes and arguing assonance.
This is the metaphor:
even my subconscious searches
for the words.
poem-through June 21, 2017
I’m through
with being split in two
three
four.
No more trying to be
too many of me.
Finally,
the best is there is to shine,
when troubled is the rare and not the rule,
where expecting excellence
is rewarded,
not met with whines.
Once, I’d have wept to leave this team,
but now it seems we’ve seen the best
and sweeping up the mess
is all that’s left.
It makes it easier to say good bye
When a dream is dangled before your eyes,
and so you reach, because like me,
sometimes you’re surprised by victory.
Now I can be
just one me,
doing what’s my specialty.
poem-momentary June 14, 2017
I’m walking away from this rain
The painful splashes digging out the flowerbeds
splattering on my head.
I’m walking away.
I’m walking toward the glow
The sun shining joy of divining
possibility. Live ’til you’re dead
I know you know time folds
when old friends meet.
I’m walking toward the momentary
treat of seeing you.
Dreams in mind, I’m walking ahead.
poem- wonder June 13, 2017
There is power in wonder
in gratitude
for the miracles of everyday.
There is power in wondering
in curiosity
for what could be.
There is power in what we say
There is power in wonder.
poem- I want to know June 6, 2017
What I want to know
is what the magical ingredient is.
What’s that essential something
that makes this kid go “WOW!”?
Not just this kid, but that kid, too.
You know how some will not be moved,
never seem to find their groove?
I want the magical ingredient for them all,
so when they’re pushed from their nests
they don’t fall, they aim for the skies with eyes
open to opportunity, head full of curiosity.
Every time I think I know the secret
I see another one sneaking by,
not willing to try or
afraid
to try?
What’s broken their curiosity?
Taught them to close out possibility?
It hurts me.
I want to know if that kid
is going to move to his groove later.
Will he save his curiosity to ride a wave
at twenty instead?
I want to see it now,
but late is better than never.
I hope when it happens,
I’ll know.
poem-passing through June 1, 2017
It’s passing through time
moving on time
gotta go time.
It’s we’re through here
all done here
wrapping up here.
It’s wear the gown time;
cross the stage time;
toss the cap time;
No more waiting!
Celebrating
Graduating.
poem-light May 30, 2017
You’re a beacon, baby
Oh yeah.
You flicker like a flame
and I come to you.
I’m a lost ship.
I’m a moth.
You’re a candle
when the power’s out.
You’re a flashlight
slicing through the night.
You’re a beacon, baby.
Bring me home.
.
.
.
Hmm. Sounds like it wants to be a song, doesn’t it?
poem-point of view May 5, 2017
So often
what I think is a conversation about me
you think is a conversation about you.
My feelings
aren’t just feelings, they’re an attack.
But they’re not.
They belong to me
and they’re allowed to be
what they are.
I long for you to acknowledge
how I feel
what I wonder
what I want
isolated from your sense
of inadequacy.
I’m tired
tired
tired of your issue
always overshadowing
any of my concerns.
Mental illness
is annoyingly
narcissistic.
Please consider other points of view.
It isn’t always about you.
Really.
Sometimes it’s about me.
poem-back April 6, 2017
Back to basics
the spine taps into essentials.
Step on a crack,
break your mother’s back!
Which kid stomped?
I wonder.
Hot pad back
on the back.
Higher
then lower
Remaining upright
to write excites nerves.
I wish I were
back in bed.
poem- sit April 3, 2017
Isn’t it
lovely to just sit
some days
and watch the world go by,
just spying and rumination
without any kind of expectation.
Isn’t it
lovely to sit
for just a little bit.
Shawn L. Bird 