Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- profile then & now January 12, 2019

Filed under: Friendship,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:12 pm
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(for Nikki)

.

I see joy.

See how you have expanded

until you’re exploding with all

that you’d held tightly

contained, buttoned up?

I see confidence.

See how what was timid

and tentative

now twinkles with the knowing

that you are amazing?

I am so proud

of who you’ve made,

you.

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poem- flash December 31, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:11 am
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Just like that

you were back.

A flash.

Years had disappeared.

Your hair glistened in the light of the theatre,

our laughter and the crunch of popcorn on the air.

A flash.

Grief seeped through me,

sucking me back to the day they said

you were gone.

.

.

RIP Lloyd. 1964-1997 No one is truly dead until they are not remembered any more.

 

poem- him December 14, 2018

Yes, there is laughter;

I see it sparkling in those eyes,

twinkling in the crevices of his face.

I see it dancing,

in those jaunty steps,

off-kilter, long-legged ramblings.

I see it in the shaking shoulders,

heaving joy, hard embraces.

There is laughter through that body,

whether we hear it

or not.

 

 

poem- drifting December 10, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:09 am
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Snow flakes drift by,

washing the world white.

Cold drips down my neck,

scarf scratching,

steps slipping,

breath billows in small clouds,

miniature factories.

Trudge through the flakes

filling the sky,

painting a picture of

a world wiped clean.

 

 

 

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.

 

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.

 

 
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