Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- microcosm November 11, 2020

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:56 pm
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The newscast announces an IED*

blew up another patrol.

Dread descends.

My heart pounds.

I strain to hear the names.

Let him be safe.

Let him be safe.

One hundred fifty-eight other names were called.

A thousand prayers unheard.

A thousand exploded hearts.

He carries them all in his duffel

when he returns.

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#LestWeForget

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IED= improvised explosive device.

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A favourite student of mine fought in Afghanistan with the Canadian Armed Forces. As I listened at the radio during the time he was gone, I was conscious of what an entire generation of families must have felt as they listened to hear about all the boys and men of their communities fighting abroad. The magnification of the stress was easy to imagine. ‘My’ soldier returned safely to Canada and returned to the high school to speak in a Rembrance Day service a year or two later. I bawled my eyes out through the whole thing so thankful he was alive and whole. I’m thinking of him today, and all those families whose hearts were broken, not so long ago.

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poem- acceptance May 30, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:37 pm
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Sometimes

there is no why

there simply is.

Your body

came into the world

like this.

The cancer in your family line.

The inclination to heart disease.

That birth defect.

Desperate fear

brings joy to snake oil salesmen

who’ll tell you whatever you need to hear.

Fake healers with degrees from schools of blarney.

Double blind research shows it’s no different that a placebo.

You don’t need an expensive sugar pill;

Just accept the hope

without the hype.

Believe you will get better,

and your body will believe you,

without sharing fake cures that might kill you,

without wasted dollars in fake cures flushed

away, and if your body doesn’t accept cure,

live today.

 

poem- and so December 1, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 6:40 pm
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And so your words come slowly,

squeezed like frozen toothpaste;

they do not echo;

they fall with a dull clunk.

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And so your words come slowly

like a sail boat becalmed;

they hover over her,

dark storm on the horizon.

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And so your words come slowly;

she watches them

approaching from the distance

like a prairie dust storm.

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Your

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words

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c   o    m      e

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s    l      o            w                l                    y.

 

 
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