Shawn L. Bird

Original poetry, commentary, and fiction. All copyrights reserved.

poem-gone August 3, 2021

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:53 pm
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Beyond us

the world has gone

swallowed in grey

a haze that glows orange

at night, around the edges that once

were mountains.

We cannot breathe.

Beyond us

the world has gone.
.

.

.

.

Purpleair.com reports our air quality has improved today. We’re down to 389 from 450s (out of 500) earlier in the week. Still “extremely hazardous.” Wildfires are most unpleasant, particularly where valleys converge and smoke from several fires gathers. The smoke is visible in the street and yards. 254 active fires in our province, over 40% of them out of control. 4 large fires in our local region. Thousands of people evacuated or on alert. Hoping for a weekend of lightning-less rain to wash the sky and allow for deep breaths again! Our lovely 30 degree Celsius summer is wasted when one can’t be outside.

 

poem-what’s falling July 29, 2021

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:12 pm
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In the porch light

ash is illuminated

specks of falling sky

pieces of evergreen needles

drop onto my arm

leave lines of black.

It hurts to breathe this grey air;

forests blazing hurt the heart.

Pray for rain, or better, snow.

(because, you know, snow

doesn’t bring lightning
or more fire).

 

poem-other places July 22, 2021

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:33 am
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the internet shows

there is rain elsewhere;

people celebrating

with summer fun.

it is not armaggedon

outside their windows;

no red sun an eery ball

in a tawny coloured sky,

no ashen needles settle

on sunflower leaves.

where they are

no threatening glow over the hill

disturbs their hope of sleep

while smoke kisses the suitcases

and bags stacked at the door,

for when the word comes.

.

.

.

Forest fire season in BC! In the last 5 years the summers have been getting consistently scarier. 4 of the 5 were horrible smokey years. While we’ve always had fires in the summer, generally it was rare to have one near communities and one bad fire summer would be followed by many fine years. I don’t remember my childhood in the Okanagan filled with smoke. But now it is the norm. Climate change sucks. A fire that started with a car accident about 38 hours ago is now a raging 800 hectare (~2000 blaze) only 25 km away from us. Very, very, very scary). Our bags are packed and we’re ready to load up if we are put on alert.

 

poem-Of elephant and blind men July 20, 2021

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:55 pm
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While you are shouting you’re right.

Check

who else is.

There’s always

more to

know.

 

poem-who are you, really? July 19, 2021

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:00 pm
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I’m a good person!

I don’t cheat

(well, except that test,

but it was an important one, I couldn’t afford to fail!

Oh, and with that girl at the bar that one time when

the wife was out of town, but that was her fault)

I don’t lie

(well, except to my mom, she couldn’t handle knowing

and would raise a fuss).

I don’t steal

(Hey, those pirate book and video sites aren’t stealing,

those folks don’t deserve to be paid for their work!)

I don’t drink too much

(that time doesn’t count, we were celebrating!)

I’m not violent

(you can’t say she didn’t deserve that black eye).

I’m a good person.

I’m just like you, right?

What does ‘good’ mean, anyway?

 

poem-where there’s smoke

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:14 am
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she left the window open

woke to ash on the couch

mountains are obscured

noon light is yellow

armageddon glow

our expressions of worry

furrowed brows

above our masks

(N95 now)

don’t ask about our stress levels

as we check the lightning tracker,

the live stream wildfire map.

After the pandemic

seems we don’t yet have the knack

of acceptance; get the bag

ready to go,

make sure we know where

to rendez-vous, pretend

all this is normal.

What more can we do?

Bless the fire fighters

as the map clicks to fire number

one thousand one hundred thirty two.

 

poem-last day June 24, 2021

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:53 am
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Just wisps of clouds dot the periwinkle sky

Faint breeze dancing among the leaves

Grads gathering, twelve at a time.

Four guests only. Strictly enforced by the

Ministry of Health. Bring five. Grad ends.

The tents in case of rain

Lake and hills in view.

Pandemic grads to walk across the grass

This graduation has so many things new

but something old:

Hand-shake in gown and cap.

Farewell, all our best wishes go with you.

 

Poem-Independence June 14, 2021

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:10 pm
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Related to a current meme about why people were more afraid of the women labelled as witches than of the slanderers and murders who killed them…

(Another rondelet. I’m having fun with them).

That witching vibe
Independent thought? Dangerous!
That witching vibe.
Patriarchy’s foul diatribe
Thrills at the thought to injure us
Has not a fear of killing us
That witching vibe.

 

poem-overturning June 11, 2021

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:29 am
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This time it is
exactly what I want to see.
This time it is
My priorities, not his.
Whatever I want life to be,
my choices and philosophy,
This time it is.

Another rondelet. The speaker of this poem has a bit of a declaration here! 🙂 I have met quite a few women over the years who’ve fought to overturn programming and embrace their independence.

 

poem-releasing June 10, 2021

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:48 pm
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I heard your name
calling to me from long ago.
I heard your name,
(Oh, that melancholy refrain!)
whispering words so soft and low,
memories I need to let go.
I heard your name.

This poetry form is called a ‘rondelet’ and plays with an A/B rhyme, lines of 4/8 syllables, and a repeated refrain (as you can see!).

 

 
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