Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- inviting trouble February 14, 2017

You see,


you can only handle

a little bit of trouble,

a tidbit,

not a whole,

irritating basket of it.


you can manage a small inconvenience

a tiny irritation.

You’re the whole basket, baby.

Okay, so no one tells you,

that the braying of your voice hurts their ears,

the ignorance of your opinions hurts their brains,

the narcissism of your monopolizing every conversation

just makes them want to scream at you,





(That would surely hurt your feelings,

and you want to be nice).


you just aren’t invited to the party.

Your presence is a pain that is more pleasant to avoid

if it’s at all possible.

What to do

when you learn of an event and you’re sad to be left out?

What to do, indeed.


you can suck it up and face the pain,

but sometimes,

you can’t.




(Deliberately playing with the subject of the ‘you’ throughout this poem about a catch-22 situation).


poem- walk for refuge February 8, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:32 pm
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During the election

we heard some American folks joke

If he wins, we’re moving to Canada!

and we laughed.


four hundred and ten

have really done it.

Last week alone


walked for frozen miles

in minus twenty Celsius

to cross the border

to freedom in



They lost fingers and toes to frost bite,

but not their lives to the sound bites

of a xenophobe.




poem- ominous February 7, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:50 am
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The sky could not be bluer

turquoise and ocean and bright summer day

captured on the snow piled like icing on the trees,

but on the horizon

a wall of charcoal grey

hints at a blizzard on its way.

I watch through the window and hope

I’m home before it hits.


poem- waiting February 3, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:16 pm
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The ground hog said spring was coming

but the snow falling outside my window

begs to differ.


poem-inaccurate January 31, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:37 am
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You hear a story

and cling to this narrative,

gripping each element as deep truth

fundamental reality

excuse for your frailty

But it’s fiction

and no matter how loudly you shout

your warped interpretation

insist that white is black,

it won’t transform into fact.

It will only dance to a rhythm of jack boots,

and the sounds of breaking glass.


poem-instructions January 25, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:41 am
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So much difficulty

is avoided

when we read the instructions.

If you don’t know what is asked

why do you try

to answer?



I’m marking exams at the moment and astonished at how often answers in no way reflect the question asked.


poem-unrecognizable January 24, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:06 pm
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You don’t even look like

the person I used to know, any more

I don’t know what’s happened.

Did you get taller somehow?



We don’t do that

when we’re this age.