Woody Shea 10/11/25 Woody Shea 10/11/25

While the Lights Are Still On

Let’s demand more for ourselves.

Woody Shea 10/4/25 Woody Shea 10/4/25

Kindred

In Los Angeles, I met a few kind souls, one who reminded me of someone long gone. An old friend who left too early. They keep surfacing in my thoughts. The more I turn that feeling over, the more the word ‘friend’ comes, and slips free of its meanings… just sound, just ache. This is for the friends who remain, and the ones I still meet in memory.

Woody Shea 10/2/25 Woody Shea 10/2/25

Her Butterfly Shadow

There’s a new regular at the coffee shop. She carries silence like a fragile glass. But the notebooks she brings blaze with color, pages that seem to laugh out loud.

Woody Shea 9/14/25 Woody Shea 9/14/25

On a quiet morning.

One quiet morning, a woman walked into the coffee shop with her son. In that instant, she carried the weight and power of strength itself.

Woody Shea 8/27/25 Woody Shea 8/27/25

Values

It’s a strange kind of theater when the elephant seizes the whip, and the keepers cry out that the circus is in danger.

Woody Shea 8/21/25 Woody Shea 8/21/25

The Punk Rock Philosopher

I’ve had a few brief exchanges with a barista at the coffee shop. Brilliant mind, sharp wit. She’s shared some of her struggles. Enough to glimpse the weight she carries.

Woody Shea 5/28/19 Woody Shea 5/28/19

This might be my new poetry blog...

This will be my new poetry blog.

You can find the old entries here.