Shawn L. Bird

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

poem-contemplating September 25, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:59 am
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I’m wondering

about the tension between your eyes.

Those two deep, etched furrows

creased vertically above your nose

that appear when you smile

that tight lipped smile

below eyes that do not laugh.

You say,

you can’t help the furrows;

they happen every time,

and yet

look:

in the moments when your mouth is agape,

grinning widely,

when laughter is visible,

erupting from your face

see

the furrows are absent.

I wonder,

why you hold yourself back from laughter,

why your eyes show only tension,

that you plough into your forehead,

when you could be planting joy.

I wonder

what hurts.

I wonder

whether I can guide you back

to joy.

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poem-cure May 26, 2017

The demons are hiding around corners

lurking in the shadows

watching you.

I know you feel the weight

of their gaze

hear the clink of their weapons

every day.

On the sunny days,

you outrun them

find smiles to return to those

around you

in their circles of care.

Other days,

smiles are barred growls,

the glow of sinister eyes pacing

around you,

squeezing life and hope

as their circle crushes in,

suffocating you.

Your demons on their unwitting backs

Your demons in their unwitting smiles

Your demons on their unwitting feet

Your demons in their expectations

Your incessant demons

invisible to others,

writhing,

circling,

just

there.

 

 

 

 

 

poem-point of view May 5, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:39 am
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So often

what I think is a conversation about me

you think is a conversation about you.

My feelings

aren’t just feelings, they’re an attack.

But they’re not.

They belong to me

and they’re allowed to be

what they are.

I long for you to acknowledge

how I feel

what I wonder

what I want

isolated from your sense

of inadequacy.

I’m tired

tired

tired of your issue

always overshadowing

any of my concerns.

Mental illness

is annoyingly

narcissistic.

Please consider other points of view.

It isn’t always about you.

Really.

Sometimes it’s about me.

 

poem-in praise of grey clouds March 26, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 8:57 am
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You’re overcast again,

a nearly perennial state,

but I have a colourful umbrella

for contingencies,

and I’m safe from sunburn.

Blue sky is beautiful, of course,

but the texture of tangled

shades of grey offering drama

has some appeal,

in small doses, at least.

 

 

poem-tenaciousness March 11, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:52 am
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He walks with a personal cloud

dulling his world, blurring his perceptions.

Walling him in, between tendrils of fog

freezing him in place to avoid falling off the precipice.

Her arms are open with devotion and she calls to him,

but her voice bounces off rocks and mist.

Their mutual affections miss each other

in the haze, but both are sincere and will still be there

when the fog lifts

(or he goes over the cliff).

 

 

poem- hovering February 18, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:47 am
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It’s a shadow

she can’t quite see,

just behind her head.

A sensation of suspicion

quickening between

her shoulder blades.

A darkness settling in

a midnight coloured cape.

Oppressive premonitions

that demand she hides, fades away.

No energy for fight or flight

when confronting the black horror

of night.

 

poem- resourceful October 6, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:25 am
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I tied the sheets around the bedpost,

dropped out the window out of sight,

followed you down to the River Styx

with the water dark as night.

I leapt.  You bet.

I swam against the current

bumped against all those lost souls

but I was going to find you, and I did.

I tossed a coin to the boatman as he poled  along his way, I crawled into the boat

and I did say,

I told you

and I told you

and I told you.

I don’t care how black your night is

I don’t care how deep the pit

I will follow you and pull you back for air.

I will follow through the darkness

I will swim the River Styx

I will do it because that’s what marriage is.

It’s sticking when your hearts in little bits.

Kharon shrugs his shoulders, pulls us up to the next dock

He doesn’t care if we should choose to walk.

I wrap my arms around you and I drag you to the light,

because you’re too precious not to fight with all my might.

If I must be the strength then so be it,

let’s do what we can to make you fit,

I promised I’d be there for better or for worst

and Baby, I’m not driving with that hearse!

In sickness and in health, In poverty and wealth

I told you

and I told you

and I told you.

I don’t care how black your night is

I don’t care how deep the pit

I will follow you and pull you back for air.

I will follow through the darkness

I will swim the River Styx

I will do it because that’s what marriage is.

It’s sticking when your heart’s in little bits.

And I’m sticking so let’s hear no more of this.

I’m strong this time, and you’ll be fine

We all suffer those hits.

I’m strong this time, and you’ll be fine

in time.

In time.

In time.

In time, Baby you’ll be fine.

.

.

.

.

I had no idea what that was when the first lines came, but apparently it’s the lyrics to a country song about dealing with a spouse with depression.  Who knew!  

 

 
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