Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- light at the end of the tunnel December 5, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 5:50 pm
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There’s a spark in the darkness,

a pin point of light,

that might just mean,

day is right ahead.

Maybe.

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poem-fixing December 3, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:32 pm
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It’s not obvious

that the fix is helping.

The image is blurry and bulges strangely.

What faith is required when the cure

feels worse than the injury!

.

.

My vision therapy glasses have arrived. Yikes. Not sure how I’m going to manage with months of this! How can something that makes my head hurt so much actually help in the long term? Fingers crossed!

 

poem- no fantasy? no romance? December 1, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:21 pm
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It is so sad

that you eschew fantasy and romance in your world.

Without fantasy, where is imagination? Where is spark? Where is possibility?

Without romance, where is connection? Where is life? Where is compatibility?

You, ‘realist’ are deluded.

Facing reality means seeing above, below, beyond, and through.

Recognizing the power of the metaphor.

Feeling the electricity of a touch, when your love has gone.

Celebrating what may be.

It means believing in hope.

A realist is a dead shell lapped upon the beach,

while a great ocean signs beside it and carries whales

and sailing ships off over the horizon.

You can still be sensible,

and see the magic of the world.

 

poem- bad days November 29, 2018

When it’s a bad day,

the pain is there with waking.

Constriction or stabbing,

nausea or aching;

it fills the head until there is nothing in the world

but the hopeless frustration,

that I will never be well again.

When it’s a bad day,

there are no conversations,

no outings or errands,

only holding the head,

taking another pill,

and praying tomorrow will be

a better day.

 

poem-gains and losses November 28, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:32 am
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How hard the fight for gains,

wading through mire,

battling the blurred words,

crumbling beneath the crushing pressure.

Surrender.

Another day, perhaps a gain

of minutes of wellness.

Don’t over-do when the body is able

to accommodate desire to do more than

an errand or two before succumbing.

Daily battles.

How goes the war?

I cannot fathom a positive outcome any more.

 

 

poem-a few words more November 26, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:53 pm
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A few words more

fingers flicking over keys.

A few words more

a story unwinds

A few words more

before my head explodes

Small successes form

between the creases in my brows.

I will write a few words more,

to force recovery, word by

blurry, painful word.

 

poem-anything November 22, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:58 pm
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Anything?

Anything.

 

 
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