Shawn L. Bird

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

poem-interpretation February 6, 2018

The Lord of All Knowledge,

Gatekeeper of Truth,

says the poem means this.

Generations of readers bow

before this wisdom,

even though they don’t see it,

can’t believe it,

they just accept it.

When the poet reads

the critic’s piece,

she laughs and laughs

at the irony of such arrogant

assumptions!

Oh, student!

Good reader!

There are no errors

of interpretation in poetry!

Your experiences show you a meaning,

and if you can find lines to support,

your responses are just as valid as any critic’s.

(So the famous poet said to me,

and he should know).

 

poem-dark? February 5, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:43 pm
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Midnight

outside the kitchen window

snow capped cedars glow

in moonlight.

 

 

 

 

poem- mix February 2, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:20 am

You see

Spun around in circles

Blurred recollections

Foxes running

Apple trees

I see

You were sunshine

I was rain

I was a mask

You burned through

Confused Newton

No gravity.

 

poem-ungated January 30, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 5:03 pm
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This way is ungated.

No barrier.

Crawl along hedgerows

wade through wheat fields.

The cows don’t care to cross the cattle guard.

Continue along the way,

eventually, I’ll come to you.

This poem is ungated,

too.

 

 

poem- push on January 28, 2018

Filed under: Poetry,Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:28 pm
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We labour in monotonous isolation

Words falling onto pages

magic spells

new worlds

It might be good.

It might be worth sharing.

It might just be,

what it needs to be for us

to set our demons free.

Isolation and monotony,

and then someone

you respect

says

“Such lovely prose!”

or “beautifully wrought characters”

or “Loved it!”

and you think there’s hope

for your imaginary friends

and your imaginary world

and your imaginary dreams.

Labouring becomes inspired

by encouraging analyses.

 

poem-touch January 21, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:04 pm
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This gripping agony

squeezes me thoroughly.

All that exists are those few

square inches,

shrieking at me.

I see the ripples of this pain

on my brows, crossing vision.

The world has shrunk into a tiny piece

of me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

poem-dancing with myself January 12, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:21 pm

I walk into music

pick up a beat,

meld my steps,

add a sashay, a little sway,

swing those hips,

tilt the lips,

I urge you from your seat,

dance out of the scene

find our rhythm,

Carry on.

 

 

poem- belittled January 10, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:11 pm
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Short temper erupts

Tiny trouble surrounds

Small smiles: faked.

Insidious misogeny ignored

We knew.

#MeToo told us nothing new.

Those men want us to

Be little.

But something’s brewing.

It’s going to be big.

 

 

 

poem-boxes January 9, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:20 pm
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Boxed up

memories, wrapped carefully

in torn tissue paper,

worn over years.

Boxed up

histories, revisited annually-

unwrapping melancholy,

tying it on a tree.

 

quote- writers January 5, 2018

Filed under: Poetry,Quotations,Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:08 pm
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“Writers are different,” said Waldegrave.  “I’ve never met one who was any good who wasn’t screwy.”

~Robert Galbraith (aka J. K. Rowling) in The Silkworm.

Uh oh!