Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- prep July 14, 2018

Beneath a cloudless blue sky

I feel the storm coming,

black clouds gathering.

Could they reflect black shirts?

I ponder,

seriously,

if I should be building false walls

to hide those who will be escaping tyranny.

I wonder,

if I am far enough from a border to avoid

occupation.

A century ago,

they didn’t understand the signs,

but now we do.

Those who read are the first removed

when the evil rises.

Do all those kids who demanded,

“Why do we have to learn this?”

remember that their teachers said,

“So you’ll see the signs.”

“So it will never happen again.”

“Remember, they elected Hitler;

“they heiled and fell for his lies,

“because they wanted to believe their superiority,

“wanted a scapegoat for their troubles.”

There can be no excuses.

Shall I buy bricks or drywall?

Where will I construct false bottoms?

Where will we hide in the resulting rubble,

when the jack boots stomp through?

Another cristelnacht, this time in New York?

The hammock swings its consolation:

It can’t happen here.

It won’t happen here.

How many said those words a century

ago?

How many grew to knowing the meaning

of fear?

 

poem-when? April 1, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:14 pm
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Oh winter!

Release your tenacious grip!

Quit dripping this mix

of snow and rain,

that piles up in my yard.

It’s making me insane!

It’s April now, and white

should be from blossoms,

not snow falls; this isn’t right!

Oh, winter, we’re through with you here;

go visit the Southern hemisphere!

 

NaPoWriMo 2018 #1

 

poem- sheets February 11, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:54 pm
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The sheets are clean,

fresh outside,

brought in,

crisp newness,

start again.

Wait for you,

to dint the pillow,

breathe deeply in sleep,

inhale promise,

clean sheets.

 

poem-interpretation February 6, 2018

The Lord of All Knowledge,

Gatekeeper of Truth,

says the poem means this.

Generations of readers bow

before this wisdom,

even though they don’t see it,

can’t believe it,

they just accept it.

When the poet reads

the critic’s piece,

she laughs and laughs

at the irony of such arrogant

assumptions!

Oh, student!

Good reader!

There are no errors

of interpretation in poetry!

Your experiences show you a meaning,

and if you can find lines to support,

your responses are just as valid as any critic’s.

(So the famous poet said to me,

and he should know).

 

poem- computer woes November 24, 2017

 

You ask me for my email address

When given, much to my distress

You claim it’s already registered.

Why yes!  I tell machine, that’s me, for sure!

You ask me for  user name and password

But when I type them, you claim I’m invalid.

Oh, you passive aggressive machine,

You’re not acting like part of this team!

Inside the circuits of your brain

you’re plotting how to cause me pain.

I can hear your fan blade snicker,

as you plot to raise blood pressure.

Oh computer, use your power for good,

and work like the techies claim you should!

.

.

(Another day, another frustrating encounter with technology!)

 

 

poem-ghost hug March 16, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:38 pm
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I feel your ethereal pride

in my accomplishment

as firmly as I used to feel

your embrace.

 

poem- moon glow August 3, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:03 am
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Upon my chest, the moonstone pendant sits.

I gaze down at a clear rock streaked with white

and wonder what happened to the glow that

captivated me from the display case.

.

Busy at work,

“I’m sorry,” the lady says, “I don’t mean to stare, but

does your necklace have a light in it?”

“Yes,” another says, “I was wondering that, too.

It’s beaming from your chest!  It’s so amazing!

What kind of stone is that?”

.

Moonstone, you teach me a lesson:

While we are looking down at something, we may not see its potential

to reflect a glorious light.

In unexpected moments, a glow reflects what it can be.

 

 

 
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