Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- I wanna be January 19, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:33 pm
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I wanna be

that person who is fit and trim

so I buy the health magazines and plan to get a gym membership.

I wanna be

that person who  is literate and up to date with the latest trends

so I buy the literary journals and plan to read them.

I wanna be

that person who travels the world

so I buy the suitcase and send for the passport.

I wanna be

that person with the spotless house

so I buy cleaning products and sign up for email de-cluttering reminders.

I wanna be

that person

but until I actually take real action,

no purchase or plan can create the identity

I wanna be.

.

.

.

(Some of these are true desires, some of wishful thinking, and some are part of my real life.  I’ll leave it to you to figure out which!) 😉

 

poem-writing is like baking a birthday cake January 18, 2014

Filed under: Poetry,Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:43 am
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Writing a novel is like baking a birthday cake.

First, you figure out what kind it is

chocolate, vanilla, spice, angel?

historical? horror? teen? romance?

What is your audience?

Three toddlers?  Fifty seniors?

Then you add the ingredients in some order

flour, eggs, milk, sugar

protagonist, conflict, plot, setting

Then you mix them all together and add some heat

from an oven

an editor or first readers

It cooks, changing from ingredients into cake.

It’s edited from a manuscript to a book.

When it tests as being done,

it has to sit a bit to cool

Then it is shared with a small group, or a huge crowd

People celebrate with candles, smiles and songs

A cake lasts a moment, but the memory can linger.

A book lasts longer, but the memory of the first moment  lingers.

 

 

poem- swirl January 16, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:39 pm
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Reality spins

into imagination

awakening dreams

long forgotten.

Reality whirls

through intimations

of what seems

downtrodden

Reality curls

into foundations

revealing themes

all new again.

 

Thought- secret of success January 15, 2014

Filed under: Pondering,Quotations,Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:17 pm
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Talking to Oprah Winfrey, David Copperfield says the secret of success has three parts:

Passion

Preparation

Persistance

If you love what you do, you work diligently at your craft, and you stick to it, despite set backs and discouragement, eventually, you will achieve your goal.

It seems to be the case in my experience.  How about you?

 

poem-parking

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:41 pm
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Around

around

around

around

around

the block.

There!

.

.

.

Damn

Smart car.

.

Around

Around

 

poem- night breath January 14, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:42 pm
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Night breathes

its peace in

shimmering air

dusted with winter.

.

Night breathes

its silence in

rustling wishes

between sheets.

.

Night breathes

an invitation in

a lingering look

over the shoulder.

.

Night breathes

a promise in

peace,

silence,

invitation.

 

poem- winter wind January 13, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:06 pm
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Wafting on the cool wind

as I plow through the snow to the car

comes the heavy scent of roses.

I look for the source without success

as the air is saturated with summer

in frosty winter:

Perfumed paradox.

 

poem- silence January 12, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:52 am
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In response to a poetheme prompt on Twitter, a micropoem:

.

 My silence is my power
A weapon of contemplation
& distillation
The weapon of a sage,
enraged.
 

poem- blind January 11, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:34 am
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To a tiny toddling boy

you exclaimed his father’s stupidity

and explained to the

confused face that he was

mommy’s best friend.

No pressure

for his future wife,

that.

 

 

poem- the other side January 10, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:27 am
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The world is white on the outside

but she is black.

The core of her is burnt and raw,

bubbling flesh like molten lava.

The yard is sugar coated and bright

but she is dark.

The soul of her is encrusted and festering

rotting organs like gangrenous limbs.

The world is playfully building snowmen

but she is deconstructing herself.

Laughing children throw snowballs from

behind fortress walls that will melt.

Her fortress is firmly constructed;

joy will not reach her

until it bleeds away like winter.

.

.

.

.

Today’s composition explores contrast.  I’m trying to be a bit Plath-like here, though it’d be hard to capture the depths of her misery without living the pathos, perhaps?