Shawn L. Bird

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

poem-living September 20, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 8:38 pm
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You drive away after a visit.

“He got his licence back!”

“That’s great for 101!”

“No! He’s 105 now!”

“and blind!”

Oh, dad.

Thanks for stopping by

to make me laugh

in dreams.

 

poem- headphone man May 16, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:39 am
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Hey, headphone man

with your head cast down,

I drive past you each day as you soldier on your way,

Always in the same place, unless you are late,

or I am early.

I try to catch your eye, but you march with determination

toward your destination.

I want to share our small connection, give a wave, or smile,

but you just stare at the ground, absorbed in the sound in your head.

Hey headphone man!

Look around!

.

.

I’ve been working on this one for ages, as I do pass this guy every day on my way to work.

 

poem-thinking of you September 3, 2017

Filed under: Friendship,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:23 pm
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Today, I’m thinking of you,

new friend, met for a weekend,

those intense moments of stretching

ourselves into expectation,

birthing pains.

I find your words here,

between the pages,

and hear the anguish of your loss.

I remember our late night conversation,

the smile you fought for as you shared.

I’m thinking of you,

and wishing you lightness,

today.

 

poem- performance art July 22, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:24 pm
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I know,

that sometimes my performance faltered.

I reached down or up for notes that would not be seized.

I fumbled  at times with pitch, tune, entrances, but

every time

I believed.

I believed I was selling crumbs to birds

who were going to die horrible deaths

without them.

I believed that every person

within the sound of my voice should buy

just a small bag for the ‘ungry young ones.

My voice trembled with my belief, as I gazed out at the faces,

beseeching each and every one to part with a tuppence.

.

You believed.

Stranger, how you clung to my arm,

when me met on the sidewalk, months later,

eager to tell me how you’d heard my voice

in your head weeks afterwards.  How beautiful it was.

How it made you wept.

I, who knew every vocal fault,

struggled to believe

that my believing,

had been enough to reach past my inadequacy.

Thank you

for reminding me,

it’s the only thing that connects

in the end.

.

birdwoman

Image (c) Evan Buhler used with permission. “Feed the Birds”. Mary Poppins Shuswap Theatre 2016.

Me, being The Bird Woman November-December 2016.  

I met a fan of the show yesterday and struggled once again to come to terms with the fact that our art has its own life and power.  It can transcend us to speak poignant messages to receptive ears.

 

poem- Hwy 19: missed connection July 14, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:38 pm
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You sit,

back against the Merge sign

inviting convergence

.              connection.

I see,

the next  sign, No Hitchhiking.

Pick up is illegal.

I drive by.

 

poem-dedicated July 27, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:08 am
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This is for you

across miles

words

music

a message to the masses

A heart hung on electrical wires

or floating on the wifi waves

thinking of you.

.

.

.

.

Thinking about these memories.

 

poem-circles July 6, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 5:02 am
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one quarter century

one half century

one century

blood linked

chain,

a circle

of life.

.

.

.

Happy birthday to me, in a rather auspicious year in our family.

 

 
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