Beneath the rock slide
I lie gasping.
So many stones squashing
the life out of me,
Covid, isolation, tension,
anxiety in others,
illness, recent deaths,
responsibility, each a
pebble piled
until breathing seems
an impossibility.
Where is the safety crew
to clear the debris
so we can be well,
be free of despair,
be who we used
to be.
Crushed December 15, 2021
poem-heavy December 4, 2020
What is this woodblock in my chest
beyond kilos and pounds to tons (or tonnes)?
Quivering, it vibrates my spine,
my foggy head,
all’s aching weight,
anguish and dread.
poem- pandemic life December 2, 2020
It is a wearisome year
Each new day weighs heavier
than yesterday.
poem- feeling beachy November 18, 2020
Crashing waves
Splashing children
Deep thinking trickles like sand
I’m seeking peace:
waves wash over me.
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Demo cinquain poem for class today. Kids chose theme of beach, and I wrote a line with a different poetic device in each: alliteration, assonance, consonance, onomatopoeia, internal rhyme. Turns out, it sounds better in reverse, so that’s the version you see here.
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poem-then they peeled back their faces November 5, 2020
then they peeled back their faces
Read this
you said to me.
I poured over words
with the focus of any girl
trying to impress her crush.
Oh, how the story spoke hidden horror!
Everyone in disguise.
No one revealing their true selves.
Forty years meditating on those masks.
2020! Society in masquerade!
Kindness, care, concern: all fake.
The true horror’s been revealed.
poem- leaving the keys for the new owners October 15, 2020
The house echoes.
Drapes she made hang on the windows,
the last pieces of her here,
except
the lingering scent of bread baked
months ago, as
her last messages of appreciation,
her last independent acts.
Poem- Stinky socks cinquains October 2, 2020
(These were fun demos written with my students as we worked through some poetry devices on “Poetry Friday-the Wednesday edition”)
Super stinky socks
So easily knee socks crease
Stinky socks stick to my shoes
They slurp when I pull them out.
But say! My socks still rock!
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Socks are mittens for feet
Comfort like a warm fire in winter.
My wooly socks hug my feet
My silent shout of happiness
declares my stinky socks the finest perfume in the world.
I like my socks.
(Can you find assonance, alliteration, consonance, hyperbole internal rhyme, metaphor, onomatopoeia, oxymoron, personification, simile, and understatement?)
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poem- walk on a foggy day September 30, 2020
The clouds have come to Earth,
obscuring our panorama
narrowing the perspective
until the view is simply you and me:
this nebulous emergence,
hope and mystery.
poem- hollow September 21, 2020
I can hoo-hoot in the empty rooms
a lost owl listening to an echo
where there used to be you.
poem-special delivery August 31, 2020
Two raw hazelnuts on the back deck.
Delivery from a rat? a squirrel? a passing crow?
I guess that’s something we’ll never know.
Shawn L. Bird 