Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- gift March 5, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:50 am

You are gifting her a world

that lifts her out of poverty

You are giving her life

to live possibility.

You are rising her up

along with her family

Your gift of tuition

re-creates her reality.

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The SAS Interact Club (a high school club, associated with Rotary) is paying tuition for a girl to attend high school in Kenya.  In Kenya the government only educates free to grade 8, after that, families must find about $750 a year for tuition.  Families with many children or living as subsistence farmers have no way to educate their children to the levels that can lift them from poverty.  The students in question come from Barani Primary School.  The sponsorships are supervised by Shuswap Rotary Club and Mombasa Rotary.  If you are interested in sponsoring a student yourself, (100% goes to the students, there are no administration fees) see the contact info at http://www.shuswaprotary.org  We have been working with Barani for several years.

 

poem-imperfection March 1, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:39 pm
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I only dream

that the first time is the only time

to do something.

I only dream

that no one can find complaint

omission or regret.

I only dream

of polished perfection

in momentary introspection.

I only dream

and roll my eyes

at expectation of perfection

your rejection of infallibility

is nothing to do with me.

 

poem-present February 18, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:33 pm
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A present for her

that’s really for him.

A present for him

that’s really for her.

Who needs a gift, really?

Presence is enough.

 

poem- ukulele beats February 13, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:50 pm
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So… this is a (parody) Beatnik style spoken word piece.  In place of the bongos (or in addition to them) you have to insert an ukulele riff between the lines.  I ‘wrote’ this while a student was walking through the halls past my class room, wailing away–heavy metal style–on his ukulele…  (We don’t ask why he was soooooo far from the band room. Obviously it was so he could inspire poetry!)

PS. Call it an oo-koo-lay-lay, please, NOT a you-kah-lay-lee.

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The ukuleles are out walkin’

(insert riff)

Rockin’ to the beat

(power chord)

Tropical heat

(power chord)

Seat of pants stalkin’

(riff)

Ukulele tuneful wailin’

to the whales

(riff)

Ukulele layin’ on the vibe

Make us come alive.

(power chord)

It’s a gas, man.

Ukulele laughin’ gas, man

(longer riff)

Listen to what I say,

Take the ukulele way

of peace,

man.

(power chord).

Cuckoo

Ukulele.

(riff)

Groovy, dude.

 

 

 

 

poem-middle February 12, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:37 pm
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You were middle aged

when we were twenty-seven,

but we didn’t know.

I feel like I am just beginning,

but you have ended.

I can not get my head around

this unexpected cutting

of a thread that should still be winding

through our tapestry.

 

poem- sheets February 11, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:54 pm
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The sheets are clean,

fresh outside,

brought in,

crisp newness,

start again.

Wait for you,

to dint the pillow,

breathe deeply in sleep,

inhale promise,

clean sheets.

 

poem-choices February 10, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:20 pm
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You’re right,

of course.

The girl’s got skills.

She works a room with flare,

engages crowds confidently.

You want her in your corner,

unless of course,

she reveals your inadequacies,

tramples your manly ideas,

and overwhelms.

The public thinks she’s wonderful.

The contrast between you

crackles.  Can you let her go?

Or should you hold her close?

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A poem for a character, as I’m working on Lydian Mode today.  Lydia the artist is too capable by half.  Poor Dustin.  She is not making his world easy.

 

 

 

poem-flying February 8, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:41 pm
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Fleance dreams of flight,

soaring on outstretching wings

into a moonlit night,

No day trips for him, he’s heard things

about flying too near the sun.

Day is for escape, for climbing,

Peaks ascending, journeys begun,

At sunset (it’s all about the timing)

he leaps into red glowing,

falls on moon rise

spreads his wings, catches winds flowing

embraces skies,

Wonders at all he does espy

and murmurs “Fly, Good Fleance! Fly!”

 

Author interview: me!

Filed under: Grace Awakening,Reading,Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:20 am

I was recently interviewed by David from the TOO FULL TO WRITE blog.  Check it out!

 

poem-wishful February 7, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:21 pm
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Wistful

Wishful

A tank of fish full:

silver darting

Red Sea parting.

Make a way;

say your say.

Wistful

wish.

Full.