Archive for category Poetry

For those lost, those found, and those we never knew

Jul 18

Posted by JayByrd in Poetry, The Light of Day | No Comments

I hate politics. This isn’t a political post. The reason I hate politics is that politics piss me off. I just want to be left alone.

Anywho. Tonight a wrote a letter to my elected officials concerning the current healthcare legislation.  It left me irritated, disappointed, and a little sad. When I get in to this sort of dark state my mind is like adrowning man and it flounders around grabbing on to every thought , and doing to them what drowning men do to the folk who try to save them.

Well tonight I latched on to an occurrence from a few years ago. This poem is from my forth coming book it’s the only poem in the book, and it’s my favorite poem that I have written. Probably because it is personal and written about things that are important, not politics. I’ve never told anyone that this was actually written seperate from the book, which is weird, but I’ve found this blog to be a good way to clear my head. In life there is joy and sorrow and many times they overlap and in the resulting confusion we sometimes lose ourselves. Maybe this will help. It helped me.

 

Rejoice

You can spend your time sighing and waste your life crying

with grief for the dying and dead.

But open your eyes and dispense with the sighs

it’s the living with which you should tread

 

That path through the dark, that is so cold and so stark

is so only for those who have breath,

because the soul in death finds light and breath

on the road that for them is not dark.

 

So save your grief for sinner and thief

for they can benefit still,

and live your life through pain and strife

as the dead who were living would will.

 

For life is worth living and love is for giving,

so give as the living should give,

and rejoice, rejoice with resoundant voice

for those who are living still live.

Fifty stars and thirteen bars

Jul 4

Posted by JayByrd in Poetry | No Comments

I started this about four years ago and never finished it. Maybe I’ll revisit it, but until then have a happy Fourth of July.

 

Fifty stars and thirteen bars

And never a one shall run

‘Cause on this night

We stand and fight

The evil form afar.

 

Father, brother, son

With voice and pen and gun

Bubbles in The Bathwater

Jul 2

Posted by JayByrd in Poetry | No Comments

Little Johnny Perkins loved to play and play.

He played inside, outside, morning, night and day

He ran through the kitchen, and out through the door

He rolled in the mud, and tracked it on the floor

He chirped at the robins, and ran from the jays

But those bubbles in the bathwater, they haunted all his days

 

When bath time came Johnny’s mother called

But little Johnny yelled, little Johnny stalled

He crawled on the table, and crept around the chair

Maybe he could get away, if he climbed up the stair

But it wasn’t long before his mother tired of this dance

And then Johnny saw it, he saw his only chance

 

He ran and ran and ran, and then he ran some more

He almost got away, but she caught him at the door

He pushed and pulled, he kicked, he bit, he screamed like he was wet

He had to get away. He’d escape those bubbles yet

But alas for little Johnny, his mother won the day

And naked in the floor, was Johnny forced to stay

Over the side of the tub did little Johnny peek

Then all through the house did Little Johnny streak

 

But his mother picked him up and his mother sat him down

And little Johnny laughed, he laughed like a clown

He laughed from fear and fright

But no bubbles were in sight

So Johnny he did splash, and Johnny he did play

But nervous he did stay

‘Til the bubbles reached the light

 

Then Johnny jumped and cried

His poor mother, how she sighed

And she told him one time more

“Johnny those are yours”

Then Johnny stopped and thought

He sat instead of fought

And he made bubbles by the score

 

Now little Johnny runs and little Johnny plays

But the bubbles in the water do not haunt his days

And now Little Johnny laughs

When Johnny takes his baths

He laughs not from fear or fright

But from his new found control over this wondrous delight