Blue Eyes Poem by Andy Derryberry

Mystic Blue Eyes (you shoulda held on to her)

You shoulda held on to her
Mystic blue eyes
Deep as the sky is high
Calm as water in the morning
Rough as the open sea

You shoulda held on to her
That little bit of trouble
Though not so much really
Tough but sweet
Hard but soft

You shoulda held on to her
She would have held on to you
The time quickly passes
If you don’t hold on tight
The sun rises
Love it before it sets

You shoulda held on to her
Lovely little lady
You knew her for a while
I knew her from a child
From when I was a kid

You shoulda held on to her
Now you don’t know where to look
Will she call
Will she come back
There’s no way to know

You shoulda held on to her
Mystic blue eyes
Deep as the sky is high
Calm as water in the morning
Rough as the open sea

Wounded Bird Poem by Andy Derryberry

a wounded bird is in the road
it is very much alive
but obviously injured
there is blood

a car stops and a man gets out
his intent to remove a nuisance
but the bird is alive
flailing and chirping pitifully

what a pretty bird
and such a shame
people these days just don’t care
someone hit it on purpose i think

the bird flails weakly and pitifully
as if to say why have i been treated this way?
why is the world so cruel
i would live for a moment of sympathy

the man turns on the emergency blinkers
crumbles up some crackers he has
pours a little water into a bottle cap
the bird eats and actually sings a little

encouraged the man thinks
i can save this bird
life has been bad for the poor creature
but perhaps i can make things better

already late for work the man
calls in sick
and then studies how to care
for the wounded bird in the road

well it can’t stay here
it will only get run over again
by the cruel, indifferent,
mean-spirited world

the bird seems appreciative and
sings and chirps warmly
the eyes are brighter and the
flailing less desperate

ok i’ve fed you a little
and you seem to feel better
now is a good time
to get out of the road

there is, luckily, a cardboard box
in the car, perfect for the bird
he takes his scarf and stuffs
the box to make it comfortable

he cautiously approaches and
the bird seems calm,
still seemingly bright eyed
and appreciative

he must kneel down close
being careful to do no additional harm
gathering the wings just enough
to ease the bird from the pavement

his face is close by necessity
and the bird suddenly pecks furiously
poking the man’s nose hard
finding his left eye

there is blood, his blood
he drops the bird roughly
and it flails as before
he staggers awkwardly backward

he wipes the blood from his face
his eye isn’t injured badly but
the blood blinds it
so that he doesn’t know

he knocks over the water bottle
and crushes the crackers
he staggers to the car
and spins the tires getting away

all the while cursing the
wounded bird to perdition and
denouncing himself for his naive
kindness and for being deceived

the wounded bird is in the road
it is very much alive
but obviously injured
there is blood

a car stops and a man gets out
his intent to remove a nuisance
but the bird is alive
flailing and chirping pitifully

what a pretty bird
and such a shame
people these days just don’t care
someone hit it on purpose i think

i can save this bird
life has been bad for the poor creature
but perhaps i can make things better

the bird seems appreciative and
sings and chirps warmly

My Grandfather Poem by Andy Derryberry

my grandfather
i smelled my grandfather
this morning in the
sweat soaked gloves
i use on the dumbbells

i remember him as sad
because the love of his live
died young, in childbirth

i wish he could have
found some happiness
to share with me

but i guess some wounds
just won’t heal…
still i was just a kid

but today is a gift to me
and as long as i draw breath
i’m going to live live live

My Grandfather poem copyright Andy Derryberry

Alley Poem by Andy Derryberry

the alley
my heels click on the cobbles
as i wander down this dark alley
what’s behind leers
what’s ahead seems to menace

there are doorways
with hawkers selling their wares
do this, believe that
selling not the truth but conformity

but instead of safety
i put more doors behind
creating more leers
and walk forward into what

what is up ahead in the dark
it doesn’t help to squint
each door hidden til too late
and the last door possibly oblivion

my heels click on the cobbles
as i wander down this dark alley
what’s behind leers
what’s ahead menaces
***

Why Me Poem by Andy Derryberry

Why Me?

Why me? Could be a test I guess
Not by a company but by life in general
It goes after you where you”re weak
Strikes where you”re armor is thin

Could be random aggravation
Not per a plan just chaos
Hard to fight that
So many sucker punches

Maybe underlying universal evil
Kicks everyone around basically the same
Sorta fair I guess but
Maybe fair ain”t all that great

***