Shawn L. Bird

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

Crushed December 15, 2021

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:55 pm
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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.

 

poem- weekend April 24, 2021

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:30 pm
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Daily countdown

Five days

Four days

Three days (Hump day!)

Two days!

Six hours!

Four hours!

Two hours!

Home at last

Collapse

Sleep ten hours

Twelve hours.

Fourteen hours.

Early to bed.

Sunday- recovery!

Look around

enjoy the sun

deal with chores

Early to bed

Ten hours

’til it starts again.

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NaPoWriMo day 24. Has anyone found themselve just completely exhausted over the last year? Between brain injury recovery, three family deaths, and the stress of increase in Covid cases and dangerous variants (and positive cases in kids within the local school system…) I don’t think I’ve ever had as hard a year. How about you?

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ignore ads following

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poem-slowing April 19, 2021

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:05 pm
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sloth life

this

my foggy

brain

creep

dull walk

sleepy

move

like I’m

still.

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Day 19? NaPoWriMo I don’t know the prompt. Too tired to look. I think I’ve missed some days. I am so tired. Trying to keep it together.

 

poem-glow? April 1, 2021

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 5:31 pm
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Oh, yeah.

I used to gleam.

Shining sparkling day-glo shimmer

You know what I mean?

But Covid, man.

It’s worn me out.

Dulled my bright-light

What’s this exhaustion about?

It’s just going to work,

same as before

Just wearing a mask

washing hands, washing hands, and washing some more.

What’s so tiring about that?

I have absolutely no clue

But I’m heading to bed now at dinner time.

How are you?

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#NaPoWriMo Day 1. The official prompt from napowrimo.net was a video that triggered my TBI sensory over-load so I couldn’t watch it. :-/ I’ve come home from work, and again it’s not even 6 p.m. and I’m ready to crawl into bed with an eye mask, a heating pad, and an audio book. I can’t believe how exhausted I am all the time now! How’s a girl supposed to get poetry written, let alone books and stories! Arg. I hope you’re feeling less exhausted.

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Ignore any ads below. Unless they’re for Fluevog shoes, I don’t endorse them!

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poem-traditionalists December 18, 2020

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:19 pm
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Someone has to care enough

to do the grunt work.

Haul up the tree

Heave. Grunt.

Whip up the shortbread.

Beat. Grunt.

Dig out the toboggans, drive to the hill.

Wheeee! Grunt.

Cook the turkey. Shop. Wrap the presents.

Grunt

Grunt

Grunt.

Some years the off-stage magicians are silent,

but this year you can hear us

grunt.

 

poem- pandemic life December 2, 2020

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:28 am
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It is a wearisome year

Each new day weighs heavier

than yesterday.

 

Poem- choking December 1, 2020

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:12 am
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Tonight amid the Christmas decorations

grief is hanging on our tree;

loss pummels

hopefulness.

Sadness hollows out my chest,

crushes my shoulders,

lodges in my throat.

Longing overwhelms.

There is no comfort

here, only more memories

of what is gone

who is gone

when is gone

where is gone.

Tonight is too much to bear,

so I’ll climb into bed and

trust tomorrow brings

solace and that much lauded

peace of the season.

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poem-the dog peeks out of the blankets November 26, 2020

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:20 am
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The alarm. Snooze hit five times.

The feet unsteady.

The eyes blur the room.

Shoulders ache.

Ankle twinge.

Tired. So tired.

A good day to stay inside.

Light a fire.

Bake something to take

pandemic weariness away,

But the mask is on

Happy face

the work day

awaits.

 

poem- staggering November 17, 2020

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:36 pm
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when the students have left,

around the building:

faces crease with concern

bodies droop with fatigue

eyes anguished.

How long can the facade hold

when everyone’s

barely upright?

 

poem- uh oh November 6, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:52 pm
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I am dissolving

melting

unraveling

falling

blinking

broken

ready

for

rest.

 

 
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