Blog archive
February 2025
Status - Feb 20, 2025
02/20/2025
Bluebird by Charles Bukowski
02/17/2025
Dreams by Langston Hughes
02/17/2025
Haiku - Four by Fritzie
02/17/2025
Haikus - Nine by Virginia
02/17/2025
Wind and Fire
02/17/2025
Partnerships Amplify Relief Efforts
02/07/2025
Another Community Giving Back
02/05/2025
Diary of Disaster Response
02/05/2025
Eaton Fire: A Community United in Loss and Recovery
02/05/2025
Healing Powers of Creative Energy
02/05/2025
Living the Mission
02/05/2025
Message from the President: Honoring Black History Month
02/05/2025
Surviving and Thriving: Elder Health Considerations After the Fires
02/05/2025
Treasure Hunting in The Ashes
02/05/2025
Villager's Stories
02/05/2025
A Beginning of Healing
02/03/2025
Hectic Evacuation From Eaton Canyon Fire
02/02/2025
Hurricanes and Fires are Different Monsters
02/02/2025
January 2025
At Dawn by Ed Mervine
01/31/2025
Thank you for Relief Efforts
01/31/2025
Needs as of January 25, 2025
01/24/2025
Eaton Fire Information
01/23/2025
Fires in LA Occupy Our Attention
01/22/2025
Escape to San Diego
01/19/2025
Finding Courage Amid Tragedy
01/19/2025
Responses of Pasadena Village February 22, 2025
01/18/2025
A Tale of Three Fires
01/14/2025
Bluebird by Charles Bukowski
By Jim HendrickPosted: 02/17/2025
Bluebird
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
you?
π€ͺπ€π₯³πππππ₯Έπ
This poem was read at A Poetry Gathering by Karen DeMott on February 10, 2025