We’re counting down now.
Hour by hour.
Minute by minute.
Escape’s almost in our power.
poem- free November 21, 2016
Blocked by memory
Limited by opportunity
Afraid of mobility
Paralyzed by stupidity?
Freedom to choose badly
Freedom to bully
Freedom is a power to manipulate evilly
Two and two is four
prove freedom is slavery.
poem- possible impossible November 7, 2016
Possibly,
I’m
impossible.
This posterity
of probability
poses immortality
prompts immorality
indulges the impossible
creates possibility
from infinity.
Assures
I’m possible.
poem- consequences November 2, 2016
Ah!
The cries that ensue
when actions take their logical consequences!
But!
But!
But!
We’re on Earth, you know..
Oh, you might not want to feel the impact of gravity
but if you jump, you will fall.
Suck it up, buttercup.
You did the crime, you get the time.
Rant all you like,
but effect always comes after cause.
It really shouldn’t be such a surprise.
poem- today October 13, 2016
This is my only today
One opportunity to be
One chance to choose my way
One day to seize opportunities
This is my only today
.
This path is not the only way
I may choose other vistas to see
I may have new speeches to say
I may see what’s ugly beautifully
That path is not the only way.
poem- voices September 8, 2016
Down the hall
voices–
murmurs words of whispered
conversations
I can’t quite hear.
The house is supposed to be
empty,
so I stalk the sound
searching for chatty intruders
their sibilant sussurance
strangely assured for the late hour
and their uninvited status.
In the bathroom,
it comes clear:
the toilet’s talking
to itself.
poem-almost August 21, 2016
You leave silver trails behind you.
They glisten in the morning sun
like fairy roads on the concrete.
Such light from a creature that looks like dung.
poem- hatted June 22, 2016
A jaunty hat catches eyes
inspires a smile.
A jaunty hat always tries
to beguile
but it’s too happy to seduce
its morals are not loose
That hat’s a joyful
welcome mat to fun.
poem- Star people May 24, 2016
We are all made of star dust
but some of us
are less star
than dust.
Star people cause ripples
in our complacency
raise our eyes
to skies.
poem-memorized May 20, 2016
Mrs. Filber’s daughter memorized Poe’s The Raven and recited it for her mother’s sixth grade class. Student Wanda reflected years later, “This was my first encounter with the power of poetry…How independent Mrs. Filber’s daughter was–she could conjure up this poem at any time in the future, enjoying it again and again!” (May, W. 1991. “The Arts and Curriculum as Lingering.” p. 145).
What power in memory
to pull from air,
call upon bardic traditions,
weave words around ears.
Captivate.
Infiltrate.
Enervate
with poetry.
.
.
(A little poetry inspired by my grad school reading today).
Shawn L. Bird 