Early morning, December
I wake, look out the window
at three horses on the hill.
Where there used to be four.

It’s raining (of course).
I drink coffee, lots.
Clean the horse stalls
drink more coffee.

I say to my father,
The farm that sells buffalo goods
down by the Maryland line.
You ever stop there?

No, he says.
I put my barn boots in a bag
then forget them when I leave.
It’s raining (did I say that?).

Six hours from here to there,
sometimes seven, mostly six.
I take a picture of the road
with my cell phone.

One second
of those six hours
(maybe seven)
I take with me.

Winding, two-lane
back roads, no shoulders.
Empty crossroads, flashing signals
I pass the buffalo farm.

Next time, I say
like I’ve said since 1990
when there was 50 lbs. less of me
and more hair.

It’s pouring in D.C.
I stop to eat in Virginia
the sky is purple in Richmond.
I take more seconds with me.

Stolen here and there
they’ll slow time, maybe stop time.
My father won’t get older.
My mother will remember things.

It’s dark now, not raining.
Black highway, red tail lights
a lit-up water tower.
Raleigh is a string of lights.

The dogs jump, bark
run down the driveway
seven times older
than they were when I left.

Share
 

Inside Us (Nightbird)

Outside in the night
There are headlights, sidewalks, trees and a ditch
A darkened store hunches beside a car wash.
A nightbird sings and a piece of sky falls
Like hail, or a rock from a bridge.
The night feels so big.

Share
 

The big news this week was that Steve Jobs passed away. After his death, I kept seeing this image on Facebook:

I had a funny reaction to it. I both liked and disliked it. On the one hand, I thought it was a great tribute to a man who, in spite of various obstacles, managed to achieve phenomenal success. Who doesn’t love an underdog success story? I’ve seen Moneyball twice and I’m not even a big baseball fan.

So why did the image bother me? Hmmm…well, I felt like, on some level, it was also saying that there is really only one type of success. And unless you “change the world” on the epic scale that Steve Jobs did, then you haven’t accomplished much. If your efforts haven’t been felt globally, if you aren’t a billionaire, famous and powerful…well, why not, you loser?

In the past two weeks I’ve been to two fundraisers. Last weekend I attended the Wake County SPCA’s annual Fur Ball. This past weekend I attended the AAS-C’s annual Works of Heart Art Auction Against AIDS. The events are put on by teams of underpaid and/or unpaid workers who fight very hard to make the world a better place. At both events, I watched supporters open their hearts and wallets in spite of the recession. None of these people are billionaires. They are not famous or powerful. I know many of them personally and I know they have faced (and continue to face) obstacles every day…and they make a difference. They are changing the world, too.

Do you ever ask yourself, “Am I making a difference?” The answer is yes, you probably are.

Maybe you rescued a furry friend from an animal shelter and gave it home? You made a difference.

Maybe you didn’t get those new shoes you didn’t need so you could buy that Hello Kitty purse your daughter (or your son for that matter) wanted so badly? You made a difference.

Maybe you met a friend after work even though you were dog-tired because you knew they needed someone to talk to? You made a difference.

No, not on the epic scale that Steve Jobs did, and yes he was an amazing man and I’d love to read a biography on him. But the accomplishments that many people make, on a smaller, quieter level, are still hugely valuable. These folks are not “making excuses” even though you may not have heard of them. They haven’t invented something you use every day, but they are still changing the world—at the community level, which can then lead to the state level, then to the national level, and on and on. After all, a hurricane’s formation can be contingent on a butterfly flapping its wings.

Continue reading »

Share
 

Since the tornadoes, I’ve got dinosaurs on the brain. This was written years ago, on a layover.

In an Airport in Texas

Through geometric window walls
Low clouds fat with rain
Hang over miles of asphalt and dinosaur bones.

Garbled noise funneled through tubes
ricochets in the space
between the I-beams and nylon flags

And punctures artificial air
Thick with the stink of
Cheap padding on plastic chairs.

Share
 

A flip-deck of pictures
Quick, fast, fleeting.
A flash of light as swift as thought
Suspends the mind for one brief second;
I understand and then do not.

Share
 

Driving home by satellite (to see my love)

In the dark I can see
Bits of you, bits of me,
Folded and wrapped
In the glow of the map

© 2011 Sean W. Byrne

Share
 

For Valentine’s Day (a bit early), a poem I wrote many years ago… along with accompanying sketchbook doodles.

The Nightingale and the Fool:
A Tale of Love and Woe

(a little saccharine in your cup of Joe)

This is a tale
Of a nightingale
Brought down from lands above…
She sang like a dream,
And truly it seemed,
She made the air sparkle with love.

She fell in love with a fool
Whose heart was cruel;
He knew nothing of music and song.
She brought him fresh flowers,
Sang to him for hours…
Yet sensed that something was wrong.

She sang the Song of the Spheres
But it fell on deaf ears,
His heart heard not a sound…
And he stomped on the petals
(As if they were nettles),
Plucked them and threw them down…

She grew tired and weak
And barely could speak,
As she felt her little heart breaking…
When her friends heard her cries,
They rushed to her side,
Hoping to help heal the aching.

“Raise now your head,”
One friend gently said,
“Let the wind lift you up to the sky!
You’ve felt joy and pain,
Seen sun and rain…
And now you truly can fly!”

Share
© 2011 Sean W. Byrne . Suffusion theme by Sayontan Sinha
Extension Factory Builder