Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- light July 11, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 6:16 am
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Your smile has no illumination,

no dancing twinkle draws the eyes.

What lies will you tell today, when someone

asks if everything is okay?

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poem- later July 10, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:22 pm
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I expected

in my youth

a natural ending.

You railed against presumption.

Never!

Always!

Hyperbole spun us out,

Now our orbits can’t intersect.

I was okay with that,

until I wasn’t.

We’re not supposed to break promises,

even irrelevant ones.

Curse nostalgia.

 

poem- didn’t say July 9, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:11 pm
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He didn’t say it.

Not on the day

or the day after, when he used to remember.

No more embers. glowing.

Not hanging on the threads anymore, I just realized.

How strange when forever

truly dies.

 

poem-road June 23, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:18 am
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Win win you think

and she knows your thoughts,

that you don’t imagine

hers differ.

They do.

She wants you, coming and going.

Sit beside for both parts of the journey,

find moments of connection

have those conversations

that are skipped in the day to day.

Those too rare times when you’re together

with nothing to do but hear each other.

She wants words and laughter and plans.

You leave early.  A note on the counter:

meet you there.

She puts her foot on the gas pedal

and travels lonely,

as usual.

Win?

or lose?

 

 

Poem-Plumbing Depths June 14, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:24 pm
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This well is dank and dark,

Though they have promised from the depths

She will see stars,

so far, it’s darkness all around.

She only feels

a giant on her chest squeezing

joy, until tears squish dripping out.

She’ll fill this well with grief;

the only escape may be

floating on surface sorrow

until it floods over the wall

with all the sadness she can carry.

 

poem-preservation June 10, 2019

We need to be respectful

of tender psyches, mental illness,

all the agonies of existence.

We need to be respectful

of our own tenderness

and pained existence.

When being gentle of their tender troubles,

makes aches worse for ourselves,

who needs to respect whom?

Draw battle lines,

or at least find a bastion

against cries

calling you to your destruction,

dragging you to drown in the moat of their fragility.

Be respectful of your own precious sanity.

 

poem- cracks June 9, 2019

I’m slipping apart

Deep gut groaning,

inviserating split.

Your knife is sharp

and oh so subtle

No one sees the slicing

as pieces of me fall:

blood, tears and confusion.

Devotion’s greatest trick.

Betrayal by the longed for hope,

tenderly nurtured,

joyfully gathered to the heart.

Once before, protection pushed you out.

You said your sorries, cried for communication

and here we are again.

Cruelty masquerading as the heart I carried.

Pain pretending to be love.

No one else would be allowed in, after all this anguish.

Broken pieces of how I used to feel.

Wondering where the sweet creature disappeared to.

Mothers earn merit badges from the torture

of their children.

 

 
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