Bluebird
by Charles Bukowski

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 pur 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?

Last weekend I spoke/presented at the American Hypnosis Association's monthly conference on "Poetry as Hypnosis." This was based on my article and some further research and information I have done since then. Basically I just put everyone into trance by reading a lot of poetry and talked about how to use similar poetic inductions and suggestions to help our clients. So I have decided to post a hypnotic poem each week for anyone interested. If it speaks to you or heals you, pass it on. Part of the magic of poetry, however, are the sounds and rhythms and pauses. So I encourage you to read them out loud to yourself. Or maybe if I get really fancy, I'll do a hypnotic poetry podcast. Oh the possibilities. Stay tuned. Today's poem is from Rumi:

Birdwings

Your grief for what you've lost lifts a mirror
up to where you're bravely working.

Expecting the worst, you look, and instead,
here's the joyful face you've been wanting to see.

Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes.
If it were always a fist or always stretched open,
you would be paralyzed.

Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding
the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated
as birdwings.

--Rumi