Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- slow June 5, 2020

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:22 pm
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How is this day only half over?

Only six hours since I told the doctor

palliation would be her choice,

a life-time is dragging by.

Each minute means more

than those before it.

An infinite embrace

unfolding, a somnolent

soul journeying

forward.

 

poem- identity June 4, 2020

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:50 am
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Your name drips heavy irony:

joyful, playful, desirable.

Was that a youthful you

I never knew?

What carved through

who you were meant to be

and left such an antipode

behind?

 

poem- seeing May 31, 2020

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 8:22 pm
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I see a new person now.

The years’ baggage-

so much bitterness and resentment-

has disappeared like lost luggage.

She stands at the Baggage Claim,

befuddled

then teeters down the hall,

oblivious to its loss.

This peaceful creature

is new.

There is no room to hold the past

against her.

 

poem- seized April 8, 2020

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:01 pm
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Circles spinning

Words. Confusion.

Frustration.

Irritation.

and then

Enough.

Done.

Control taken.

Plans made.

Tension eased.

Creating manageable goals.

Autonomy seized.

 

poem- forward February 15, 2020

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:29 am
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(A cascade poem)
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What it is,
what it isn’t,
converging in a secret wish.

She knew
from the very beginning
what it is,

didn’t let anyone
force her to accept
what it isn’t,

held herself together,
past and future
converging in a secret wish.

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The form of a cascade is to create a free verse first stanza, and then repeat subsequent lines of that first stanza at the ends of the following stanzas, cascading the lines from the first stanza throughout the poem.  This form was created by Udit Bhatia.

 

poem-change in the wind February 10, 2020

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:05 am
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Each day I arrive here

Look around

and notice it feels less like home.

Remember laughter,

feel their dreaming,

it’s all still here,

but where are my desires leading?

Could this all be coming to a close?

Are talent, skills, and luck

coalescing into

something new?

 

Opinion-Waiting for retirement January 16, 2020

I keep running into people who have big plans for their retirement.  They’re going to move somewhere with less snow.  They’re going to get serious about that hobby.  They’re going to start writing that book.

I ask them what I asked myself in 1998: Why wait?

One Spring Break when I was in my thirties with two pre-teen kids, I’d driven south with the kids to see my parents. I went to Vancouver, and sitting in the Water Street station, I looked around at the blooming tulips and plum trees and pondered the foot of snow in my yard back home.

On our 800 km journey back home, we drove past lots of schools.  I looked at those schools and had an epiphany.  There are teachers working here.  Why wait thirty years to move?  Why not have the life we want to have NOW?

I returned home and had a chat with my husband.  I sent out applications.  He interviewed for a transfer in his government job.  He had a few offers around the province that he turned down.  I was called to an interview in Salmon Arm and subsequently accepted a position. Two days later he was offered a position in Salmon Arm, too.  Serendipity and synchronicity.  Two months later we were living in a beautiful community that actually had four seasons that appeared when they were supposed to on the calendar (instead of two seasons: ‘winter’ and ‘bugs’).  That was twenty years ago.

I dreamed of being a writer, but thought that in my forties, it was too late to start.  Then my school hosted the BC Book Prize tour, and I discovered that every author visiting us had written their first book after fifty.

I started writing just after Thanksgiving and the week before Easter I finished Grace Awakening.  The week after the following Thanksgiving at the Surrey Writing Conference I pitched it to a small publisher, which subsequently offered me a contract.  A dream come true.

This October was ten years after I pitched that first book.  I was offered a table to sell my books at a signing event at the Surrey Writers Conference, alongside some of my author idols.  I am working in my dream job, teaching English & Creative Writing in an amazing school in a beautiful place, WHILE writing books!  It couldn’t be more perfect!

I still have a few years before retirement.

I have retirement plans.  When I retire, I plan to write a lot more books, and visit schools to teach a lot more teens and adults how to bring their dream stories to life.  I will travel and write and read.  It will be awesome.

But.

A year and a half ago, I received a brain injury.  Out of no where, in my own home, BAM: Life changed.

Words swam on a page.  I couldn’t decipher hand-writing.  The computer screen hurt.  Crowds hurt my ears. Lights hurt my eyes.  I had head-aches and eye-aches.  I was dizzy.  I was nauseous. For MONTHS.

I told my doctor that he needed to figure out healing quickly, because I needed to go back to my dream job and keep working on my books!   He said, “Shawn, you might be retired now.”

That scared me.  The idea that I might enter retirement unable to read, unable to write, and unable to teach or travel was horrifying.  What a bleak picture!  On the bright side, I thought, at least I have been able to have this wonderful job, teaching teens to write, and to inspire them.  At least, I have published nine books.

Thankfully, I had excellent concussion therapy and I have recovered enough from my brain injury to work part-time again.   Despite my injury, 6 pieces were published last year.  Some had been written years ago, some were short articles or stories that took me weeks instead of a day to write.  Slow progress is still progress.

My injury wasn’t the end of my dreams, but it could have been.

Wouldn’t it have been horrible to have all my plans completely unreachable due to poor health?  Wouldn’t it have been a hundred times worse if I had saved all my dreams for retirement, and not have the health to attempt them?  I had two colleagues who were in good health when they retired, but were dead six months later.

If you have a dream, don’t wait for retirement.

We only have today.

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poem- wishes November 25, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:50 am
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She used to see him everywhere

He wove into every conversation

‘All roads lead to…’ they joked

Now the roads go new places

Wind through wishful thinking,

blissful realities

settle comfortably in what is

for what it’s worth.

 

 

poem- baking tomorrow November 22, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:39 pm
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She is gone

traditions will be different in her absence

I am a poor substitute.

May our Christmas cookies

and your memories

be sweet.

20191123_161525.jpg

 

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poem- updating dreams November 21, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:14 pm
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Last night

you didn’t come as your youthful self,

my fun, faithful friend.

Instead, bald, broad, and bellied you asked,

your hard question against my thigh:

Why not?

Respect, I said,

Squeamish at your leer.

You lowered your voice to that super serious tone

I remember so well.

Really?

So much doubt.

Yes.

Really.

Even in my dreams I’m over this.

 

 
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