Shawn L. Bird

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

poem-lucky November 9, 2017

Filed under: Friendship,poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:25 pm
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How lucky I am

in you.

How blessed I am

to know you.

How grateful I am

for you.

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poem-thinking of you September 3, 2017

Filed under: Friendship,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:23 pm
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Today, I’m thinking of you,

new friend, met for a weekend,

those intense moments of stretching

ourselves into expectation,

birthing pains.

I find your words here,

between the pages,

and hear the anguish of your loss.

I remember our late night conversation,

the smile you fought for as you shared.

I’m thinking of you,

and wishing you lightness,

today.

 

poem-serendipity March 12, 2016

Filed under: Friendship,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:29 pm
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Old friend synchronicity

Visiting one,

Another arrives out of the blue.

After forty years,

there are sympathetic vibrations

that draw us together:

joyful serendipity.

 

 

poem-vacant January 19, 2016

Filed under: Friendship,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:05 pm
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How strange

that this space that was always filled by you

is vacant now.

Some time,

I don’t know when,

you stopped paying rent and disappeared.

Now the corner where you lived

has fallen into disrepair

and when I look for what used to be

I see only

moldy fragments in the space

that was yours.

 

poem-promise September 29, 2015

Those childish promises

made with fervent belief

prove the power of intention:

Fealty sworn with hooked pinkies

in confident conviction.

 

Poem- Parts May 24, 2015

Filed under: Friendship,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:49 am
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I’m part English, part Welsh, part Prussian, part French

Diluted by experiences of generations born the ‘right’ colour.

Not even ‘No Irish need apply’ to tarnish their immigrant dream:

Canada, land of opportunity for the stalwart farming types.

Though great-grandpa was an accountant and failed at farming.

.

So who am I to comment on anyone else’s parts?

.   My great-niece: part African

.   My nephew: part First Nations

are just family.  Or 

Those friends from here and there whose colour

Was not as important as their character

Whose home culture was a matter of curiosity

Never animousity.   We were

White kids convulsing over that time at the bar

When the guy climbed into the back of Khalid’s car

convinced he was a taxi driver,

And we never considered that maybe  parts of his heart

Were incized by the stereotype he laughed off.

Because we didn’t waste time worrying about races or colours,

We were full of the wonder of all our parts racing together toward our futures.

.

.

This was created as part of an assignment in my Education of Inclusion course.  This week we’re looking at cultural inclusion and racisim.  One of the videos we watched was about ‘hyphenated Canadians’.  We were expected to comment on this, but I just don’t feel like I can say anything about what it might be like to feel caught between cultural identities, so this poem is my offering on the subject.

 

poem- box of stars December 18, 2014

Filed under: Friendship,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 5:16 pm
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I open

an innocuous box

to find a starry sky,

music for the spheres,

time travel.

I open

an innocuous box

to find sparkling stars

that make me smile

remembering.

.

.

.

and since the box contained the 25th Anniversary edition of The Interstellar Suite in Surround Sound (among many other lovely things), I should probably include a link to a 25 year old event that inspired a scene in Grace Awakening, shouldn’t I?  (Thanks Arlene for that awesome sparkly sky paper!)