Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- see love April 23, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:26 am
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As these lines came into my head, they came on a suspiciously familiar tune, so I think of these as song lyrics, and I will have to see if my harp and I can turn them into a song at some point.  In the meantime, they’re a poem.  (I wouldn’t hold your breath for the music, just so you know).

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You don’t look.

You don’t see.

You don’t hear.

You don’t speak

words she needs you to speak.

You’re not listening

when her heart weeps.

You don’t hear.

You don’t hear!

Please come here.

You must look.

You must see

what she’s trying desperately

to help you see.

You must hear

how she’s struggling with her fears.

You must speak,

whisper love,

for that’s all she truly seeks.

Look.

See.

Hear.

Speak

Love.

 

poem-spring snow April 22, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:47 pm
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This April snow

fills the air with pink petals and

scents the sky with spring.

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http://www.napowrimo.net prompt for today, Earth Day, April 22 to write a pastoral poem, one about nature.

 

poem- Outlander summer

Once upon a time

Just a few of us at this party

Laughing across time zones.

Now, sometimes it feels

like drunks have crashed it.

I miss then

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So many fond memories of Outlander life on Twitter in summer of 2013.  Feeling nostalgic this week after discovering all those old tweets doing my Sam Heughan post the other day. 

 

poem-arrows April 21, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:57 pm
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Sometimes I get the feeling

our words are arrows

passing each other,

feathers steering a fine point

that misses its mark.

You declare a bulls eye,

but your arrow’s embedded in your neighbour’s target.

My arrow twitches in the straw

waiting for another chance.

A quiver full of words

I hope each aims true,

but sometimes the flight path

looks quite different to you

 

poem- NaPoWriMo- I know April 20, 2015

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:54 pm
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I know

wholeness

snapped pieces

knitting together

painful steps

I know

laughter

echoes of memory

wishing toward tomorrow

wanting it to be.

I know

potential

dreams bouncing

around halls and walls

I know.

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Today’s http://www.NaPoWriMo.net prompt was to write ‘what you know.’

 

poem- landay April 19, 2015

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:11 pm
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Today’s http://www.NaPoWriMo.net prompt is to write a landay.  This 22 syllable couplet poetry form is a secret, underground women’s poetry in Afghanistan.  I was fascinated by this article about collecting landays in the war-torn land.  This secret voice tells us about the real undercurrents, the real experience, of life for these women.  

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When the woman is Afghani,

The power of her voice is found in hidden poetry.

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I am profoundly touched to read these secret treasures that vividly paint a reality we know so little of.  This is the hidden power of poetry, to condense so much into a few lines.  I like that they’re meant to morph as the lines are seized by others, and the message is intensified or modernized .  

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When the woman is Afghani,

The fire in her voice is found in flames of poetry.

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The form is supposed to be 9 syllables on the first line, 13 on the second, but my first lines all kept turning out as 8 syllables, so I just made 14 in the second, to reach 22.  (as per my Poetic Licence).

 

poem- NaPoWriMo- Rush & Hurry April 18, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:57 pm
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Today’s NaPoWriMo.net prompt in honour of the Midnight Ride of Paul Revere is a poem on a theme of rush and hurry.

(and today I was delighted to discover I am the Day 18 featured poet for yesterday’s social media poem.  How lovely!)

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When it’s true

there’s all the time in the world.

Slow down.

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They say

“Marry in haste, repent in leisure.”

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I remember seven months

when time stood still

and you were the air I breathed.

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In haste, married,

then filled a house with babies.

Now they’re gone, but you’re still here

Our leisurely repentance

is luxurious reward for our haste.

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Happy 30th engagement anniversary to my love. (4 months after meeting and 3 months to the wedding!)

 

poem- social media found poem April 17, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 6:10 pm
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Today’s NaPoWriMo.net prompt is to create a poem from social media

So here is a found poem created from snippets of 15 current statuses of people on my Facebook feed (in order):

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It was never your destiny to take the easy or quiet route through life.

Home, sweet sweet HOME.

I’m in the same room 

fixed up all nice today

Are there any 5 year olds out there?

You never go to the cupboard and find the bottles empty.

My mom surprised me

You can’t really hate on suffragists and true feminists

Luckily for horses

They featured me in the news letter

People wonder

I’m a mixed metaphor

(must shower)

literary treasure.

Best damn car chase I’ve ever seen!

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With thanks to (in order) Ursula, Andrea, Jodi, Paige, Joei, Carol, Kowan, Desi, JM, Ben, Krystal, Jodi (again!), Diana, Sylvia, and Blu.

8 writers, 2 musicians, 5 former students.

Jodi’s line was “I’m in the same room as Dougal McKenzie! (And he’s wearing a kilt.)”  We’re totally jealous! 😉  (Except maybe Diana.  She’s probably over it by now).

 

poem- he said she said April 14, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:55 pm
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That scarf was a ridiculous purchase, he said.  I don’t work for you to buy gauzy strips of gratuitous fabric.

I don’t know why, she sighed, you insist upon these games

Because, said he, games are fun.  His lips quirked up on one side. His eyes were dark

Not always, she said.  Take chess, for example.

Racing is fun. Speeding around the track, outmanoeuvring competitors.  I never liked chess.  All that cornering the king.  It’s unbecoming.

Oh I know, said she.  She touched the damned scarf to a lit a taper and tossed it out the window as it flared.  Oops. How clumsy of me.

His eyes grew wide and he rushed to the window to see flames rapidly licking the dashboard of his Aston Martin convertible.

You always forget that the real power on the chess board is the queen’s, she said, as he raced shouting from the room.  Check, mate.

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Today’s NaPoWriMo.net prompt is to write a dialogue poem.

 

poem- magique April 12, 2015

Today’s prompt from napowrimo.net:

Describe in great detail your favorite room, place, meal, day, or person. You can do this in paragraph form.

Now cut unnecessary words like articles and determiners (a, the, that) and anything that isn’t really necessary for content; leave mainly nouns, verbs, a few adjectives.

Cut the lines where you see fit and, VOILA! A poem!

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I wrote about a magical place.  Here’s the version edited as per instructions:

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Through arch

through time

long-abandoned château 

what were windows,

looking down

Rivière de Sorgue bubbles

twists

Musée de Petrarque stands stately

garden

poplars.

We walk

ancient path

limestone cliffs,

tiny secluded valley

the pool where

river is birthed

A hole I could hold in my hands.

Feel magic:

the poet still walks.

Fontaine de Vaucluse

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Here is this beautiful place, a site of a novel (theoretically in progress, though actually resting, like dough) from our visit in 2011.  I dream of returning there to stay and work on this project when the trees are all leafed.   The arch is behind the Musee, a modern-ish town is directly behind the limestone wall/cliff.  I’m standing on the path to the fontaine (the river source).  There is another photo from this walk on the cover of my poetry chapbook 2011.

Fontaine de Vaucluse Sorgue River Chateau above Musee de Petrarque on right.

Fontaine de Vaucluse
Sorgue River
Chateau above
Musee de Petrarque on right.

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Here is the first version (I couldn’t do it in a paragraph form, despite myself!)  I think it could make a fine poem itself:

Through the arch and back through time

the long-abandoned château des Evêques de Cavaillon, XIV

rocks crumbling from what were windows, vacant eyes looking down to where

The Sorgue bubbles by, twisting this way, then that.

Musée de Petrarque stands stately amid garden and tall stretched poplars.

We walk along the ancient path beneath the limestone cliffs,

This tiny secluded valley, until we reach the pool where the river is birthed

from a hole I could hold in my hands.

You can feel the magic here; the poet still walks at

Fontaine de Vaucluse

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Which version do you prefer?  The ‘brevity is an art’ version or the ‘extended version’?

I expect WordPress to link to a complete blog post about our visit to Fontaine de Vaucluse below (entitled Magic Fontaine); you may be interested in reading that post, as well.  

Teacher moment: Do you know who Francesco Petrarch/Petrarque/Petrarca is?    He was the father of humanism.  He coined the term “The Dark Ages.”  He traveled around Europe rescuing ancient Greek and Roman texts; at his death, he had the largest library in Christendom. He is called ‘the first tourist.’  He was a philosopher and scholar.  Most of those things are forgotten.  He is best remembered because he invented the sonnet form (specifically The Petrarchan aka Italian sonnet).  For 50 years he wrote these 14 lined poems to/about Laure/Laura (deNoves) de Sade, a married woman who died, likely of bubonic plague, in 1348.  He met her the first time April 6, 1327 in Avignon at Ste Claire Convent and his adoring sonnets in praise of her remain with us today. They are called Canzoniere. (Somewhere on this blog you’ll find one-#61- that I’ve translated from the Italian, likely also linked below). He was a man who knew he was making contributions to history.  He expected to be remembered.  I have a little crush on him, as in my Grace Awakening series, the musical young man, Ben, was Petrarch in a past life…)