Shawn L. Bird

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

poem-so like us January 31, 2020

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:42 am
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Remember

the necklace you gave me.

Four golden strands I wanted to love

for your sake.

Every time I wore it,

it turned into a tangled disaster,

wrapped up in itself.

So like us.

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poem- Minus 26 degrees January 13, 2020

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:18 am
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The moon lingers in blue sky,

listening to Styrofoam™ squeaking boots

on crispy, cold snow.

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poem- That Year October 30, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:43 am
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She loves you

Diamonds in the air

Twinkling in

Street lights’ silence.

Just a snow shovel’s scraping

In the distance.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Leaf buds, bursting hope.

Unfolding pastel visions

Relief.

She loves you

Summer green

Heat hovers in the air

Living breathing furnace.

And you know that can’t be bad.

Golden light illuminates scarlet visions.

I will never say you’re beautiful

I’ll be your friend forever.

Yeah, yeah, yeah

 

poem- being Charlie Brown November 19, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 6:05 pm
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The football is set, with enthusiastic support,

This is going to be such a great help!

But instead of the football being held at the perfect angle for the kick that sends it through the goal posts,

Lucy has snatched it up again.  She shrugs.

You wanted to kick for THIS game?

Oh no! The game you get to kick for is three months from now!

Just hold your foot up until then, will you?

 

poem-thou dost protest too much November 1, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:13 pm
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Each act ahead comes

from what’s behind.

We are all walking wounded

trailing bandages

that tangle us,

tie us,

trip us

into our future.

Wear a blind fold:

we cannot look into a mirror to see the pain

etched across our faces.

See the bandages?

Trip over them

leaving the bar.

Scream yourself hoarse,

stamp your feet.

Shout “I’m fine, fine, FINE!” *

Ah. Methinks,

The lady doth protest too much.*

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(*Allusions: In Louise Penny’s wonderful Inspector Gamache books, Ruth Zardo has written a book of poetry where FINE is an acroynym for F*cked up, Insecure, Neurotic, Egotistical. I’d say that applies here, too. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much” is from the play within a play in Shakespeare’s Hamlet).

 

poem-flying February 8, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:41 pm
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Fleance dreams of flight,

soaring on outstretching wings

into a moonlit night,

No day trips for him, he’s heard things

about flying too near the sun.

Day is for escape, for climbing,

Peaks ascending, journeys begun,

At sunset (it’s all about the timing)

he leaps into red glowing,

falls on moon rise

spreads his wings, catches winds flowing

embraces skies,

Wonders at all he does espy

and murmurs “Fly, Good Fleance! Fly!”

 

poem-reality June 21, 2017

Eventually

Reality has to intervene.

You’re not destined for the NHL

Or the corps de ballet

Your voice will not sell

A million records.

Simon sends you packing.

 

Reality can suck.

But if playing hockey

Brings you happiness

Why stop just because you’ll never hoist the Stanley Cup?

Dance like nobody’s watching

Sing until you’re smiling.

 

Don’t let reality rob you of the joy

Of the activity itself.

The rush of a beautiful pass and goal.

The beauty of a perfectly formed pirouette.

The harmony than hums in your ear.

Celebrate those moments for ten thousand hours.

 

They say ten thousand hours yields excellence.

Perhaps you’ll need twenty.

Or thirty.

Embrace the joy.

Share in a community of like minds.

Perhaps after forty thousand hours

Your reality will change

And if it doesn’t,

At least you’ll nurture your soul.

Like reality,

Success has many faces.

 

 
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