Shannon Spills the Beans

Shannon Ogden's personal poetry and scribblings.

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Starts with L

I want your love

I don't want a hand,

your smile,

your hair tickling my ears,

I don't want your laugh

I don't want your kneecaps,

your breath,

I don't want to meet

with ten years gone past,

I don't want a heart beat

simply and truly, I want your love,

all of it,

encompassing me,

I want your love to swallow me whole

so that I can become all those things

to you

for you

with you

I want your love

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May Blues

there is some kind of sadness

in the month of May

you've been waiting for death

to be gone through the bitter

months of winter

and yet as you watch it breathe

its last, cold breath

in the month of May

you feel an emptiness inside

and you are sad to see it go

as if in your shared misery

(for death does not enjoy his job)

you found solace in each other

and the lovely summer beckons you

with warm baby's breath and sweet kisses

on the breeze

while your friend walks away.

bittersweet

there is some kind of sadness

in the month of May

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Spring

There is no way to feel unhappy with the sun on your face in spring

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Love is not gestures love is every breath you breathe into someone else

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LIFE

It is so hard, sometimes, to be human because the longer you hang around, the more acutely aware you are of how much pain is truly involved. and you know that even during the happy times, a storm is building just around the corner. and it is so bittersweet when you think of how, without all that pain, the happy times wouldn't even exist to feel so much, it is the greatest gift and greatest curse given to humanity. so overwhelming it is sometimes that, it makes you think, god is not an aloof being up above, but born in the strength we find within ourselves we are our own gods, and the ones in the clouds are forever jealous of what we are truly capable of.

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Slow Thaw

The first day of spring

approaches- I am immersed

in winter blues, still.

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The Root of your Fears

wind howling through trees

is scary because it might

not be what it seems.

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The Vagina Haiku

I am a Goddess

and my vagina is the

Queen. Bow down to me.

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To my Dearest Dog

I am writing in

regards to the poop you left

on my lawn. Please Stop.

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The Seventeenth Haiku

Haikus are like words

you write them repeatedly

and they lose meaning

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The Fiteenth Haiku

I sincerely hope

that you like haikus, because

I'm not quite finished

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Note-Worthy

though you can’t make it

to my party, I’ll still send

you a thank you note

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Trickery

Books, though seemingly

timeless, swim in a vast sea

of mortal glory

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Don't Knock the Craft

haikus aren't easy!

expressing yourself in such

few syllables is

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Vast

Nature holds ev'ry

idea we can't express

using thoughts and words

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the wiry strings of

his guitar vibrate with each

sweet note that he plays

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Exponential

we feel the letdowns

only as colossal as

our expectations