You’re too far.
It doesn’t matter that it’s only a day.
I feel bereft without my back up.
Knowing you’re at my back
is my security,
against myself.
Don’t be far
for long.
poem- retirement project May 5, 2015
That old shell of a van
might make a fun project for you.
Just think, when it’s done
you can make out in the back with a hot chick,
or at least a chick with hot flashes.
.
poem- perhaps April 26, 2015
Perhaps when
. you are dead
I will find a cache
. of hidden love letters,
. diaries,
. poetry
all proclaiming your passionate
. yearnings,
your adoration recorded
. day after day.
Moments captured on paper
. trapped filaments of bliss
. flashes of us through your eyes.
Perhaps
I will find a cache.
Perhaps
. not.
poem- connected January 18, 2015
In the day
they brush past one another,
utter essential words,
questions,
instruction.
But at night,
they brush against one another,
whisper non-essential words,
passions,
exhortation.
poem-turn back time January 7, 2015
In Outlander,
Jamie, the good husband, is always giving his wife, Claire, good advice.
He gives advice to keep her safe.
Stay here in this clearing, away from the soldiers.
Sage advice.
Stay here in the hold, away from the pirates.
Good counsel.
Claire, a modern woman with a mind of her own, makes her own decisions.
Her decisions often run counter to Jamie’s.
Invariably, Jamie has to bail her out of the trouble she’s landed in,
because she didn’t listen to him.
Today,
my good husband came home for lunch and said,
“Don’t go out there. It’s treacherous! I had to put down salt,
to melt the ice on the driveway!”
When he returned to work,
I saw the mail lady come.
I’m expecting a parcel.
There’s salt down.
What’s the worst that could happen?
I stepped on islands made by salt pellets
down our steep drive,
crossed the slippery road, and was within a meter of the mailbox
when I was splayed out on the edge of the road like a frog.
Ah! So that’s the worse that could happen.
Stay here in the house, away from the ice, he’d said
And after, my good husband didn’t even say,
“I told you so.”
Oh, if I could turn back time!
.
5 hours in Emergency because I have a spiral fracture in my ankle, and apparently orthopaedic surgeon will screw in a plate tomorrow, but at least I don’t have to pay anything for this adventure thanks to Canadian MediCare!
🙂
Outlander is written by Diana Gabaldon. It’s an amazing historical, time-travel, adventure, romance, amazing novel that you should read. My husband adores it, and tried to get everyone he knows to read it, as do I.
poem- yet May 20, 2014
You gather me into you
Entangling limbs and
Tickling kisses on the neck.
.
Your breath tangles in my hair
Escaping through quivering tendrils
Trembling into the night.
.
Your heartbeats drum against my back
Exquisite timpani.
Time stops.
poem- beautiful October 27, 2013
I love you
I want to be with you
he said
but I can’t ever call you beautiful
I’ll say lovely
and that’s better
She nodded uncertainly
wondering what that meant
Years later
she reminded him of his words.
I was an ass,
he said.
But he still could not
bring himself
to say the word.
Poem-making love July 21, 2013
I make you.
Word by word
I write you.
Stroke by stroke
I paint you.
View by view
I see you.
What I say
is what you are
So
I make you kind
I make you good
I make you loving
and so
you are.
.
.
This explores a similar concept to Patricia McGerr’s “Eight Cow Wife.” How you treat your spouse will reflect back on you. If you complain all the time, you’re going to be focusing on the negative until that’s all you can see. So don’t. Your focus creates your reality. Live the relationship you want to have.
Poem-another sign of love- a kilt story July 17, 2013
She gets these notions, ken?
Strange notions.
That because my great,
great,
great,
great,
great,
grandfather was a Scot
I need a kilt.
.
I won’t wear a kilt,
I said.
I am not connected to
my Scot’s heritage
I said.
That’s all right,
she said,
unloading
eight meters of fabric
and starting to pleat.
.
I won’t wear a kilt
I said.
What kind of belt buckle?
she asked.
So I picked the clan buckle
of my great
great etc
grandfather.
.
I won’t wear a kilt
I said.
Which pleat design?
she asked.
So I picked the pleat to the sett
(or so she tells me)
and she ironed
and ironed
and ironed
late into the night
and then she sewed
and sewed
and sewed
each stitch by hand
for night
after night.
.
I don’t want a kilt
I said.
She sewed
a linen shirt
and knit a lace jabot
and created sock flashes
and sock garters.
I ordered the socks and
the sporran from
Scotland
she said.
.
I really don’t want…
I said
Try this
she said
arranging a leather pocket
dangling from chains
around my waist.
No!
I squawked
It can’t go like that!
That’s like saying
X marks the spot!
She laughed
at my dismay.
.
Just try it all
she said,
arranging
ecoutrements.
I sighed
but did.
Walk up and down so I can see the swing,
she said.
Ooooooh,
she said
and led me back up the hall.
.
For our anniversary
she said
will you wear your kilt?
Yes,
I said
and did.
.
.
True story.
Outlander inspiration is clear.
Diana has a lot to answer for.
But most of it is good.
Verra good.
.
Here’s the proof:
and the more modern interpretation:
We should have taken some pictures from behind to show off…
(cough) the pleat to the sett.
It’s verra lovely.
<g>
Always remember “Happy Wife, Happy Life” or as Diana wrote him in the book plate for his copy of The Scottish Prisoner, “No one looks better than a man in a kilt.”
.
FYI- Here are a few of the posts written back while I was making the kilt with photos of the process:
https://shawnbird.com/2011/11/16/the-latest-obsessive-project/
https://shawnbird.com/2011/11/19/kilt-progress/
https://shawnbird.com/2011/12/06/all-done/
Note the dates- It’s been nearly 18 months since I finished. He’s worn it ONCE before today, back for that final drooling fitting. Plainly I caught him in a moment of weakness today. Or else he’s been reading Outlander again on his own. Good lad.
6 years later, here’s a lovely shot of the swing from behind! 🙂
the purpose of marriage August 7, 2012
I’ve been thinking a bit about marriage, this being a season of new marriages and significant anniversaries in our circle. We are seeing everything from the blush of new couplings, to those having reached a half century and stretching beyond.
Marriage serves many purposes. Once upon a time, a marriage could forge alliances, settle feuds, and enlarge estates. The bride was property to exchange, and the children would be the beneficiaries of those alliances. That was a long view of marriage, a kind of dynastic vision with the individuals’ place firmly seen as a small cog in a greater machine of familial destiny and power mongering.
Nowadays, we tend not to think such of great thoughts and purpose. Sure, a spouse with a rich or influential family provides a nice security, and undoubtedly a youthful trophy on an man’s arm gives him at least an imagined superiority over others. Some pay for their shallow reasons in hefty divorce settlements, and that’s the price of doing such business.
Way back in the second book of Genesis, God declares, “The LORD God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.” (Gen 2:18) and so God fashioned woman. Consider some ways to interpret that: a helper is a help mate, a companion, a consort, an accomplice, a partner, a protector, a guide, and a colleague (so says the on-line thesaurus).
A spouse (whatever the gender) must be all those things. What first brings a couple together may be prosaic, and some romantics might scoff at the dispassionate process that bonds some couples, though I think such sober decision making provides stronger glue than the chemical waterfalls of attraction and biological imperative. Sexual coupling requires far less effort than a lifetime partnership, after all. I know a lot of people who choose toxic partners repeatedly and then bemoan their horrible relationships. It seems ironic in the extreme that they don’t recognise that “If you keep doing what you’ve always done, you’ll keep getting what you’ve always gotten.” Choose your life partner for more important reasons than the colour of his eyes or how she looks in her jeans.
I once heard that falling in love releases massive amounts of hormones into your system. The result is that your brain is numbed and drugged, as the rush of dopamine is equivalent to a cocaine high. You can’t make rational decisions when you’re so befuddled. I heard that it takes a full year for your brain to clear the chemicals so you can think lucidly again.
The most important question to ask yourself when your brain function returns is “Why should I marry this person? What would the purpose of such a marriage be?” When you can step back and study the goals, you stand the best chance of making a marriage that will have staying power.
Shawn L. Bird 