Shawn L. Bird

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

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.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

 

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.

 

poem-too exhausted March 2, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:28 pm
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Too exhausted to care

whether the sensitive child is traumatized

by my insistence that she complete the

assignment as required.

Too exhausted to laugh

at the absurdity of end of term panic

after six weeks of poor attendance and disorganization.

Too exhausted to do more

than get through the day myself,

with nothing left for under-achievers who think

I should go over and above for them.

Too exhausted today to care

more about student success they they do.

There’s always tomorrow.

 

 

 

poem-overwhelmed February 3, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:42 am
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Stacks of articles, demanding my brain

focus and think logically.

Assignment instructions I just want to avoid.

My students drive me crazy when they show this sentiment.

But then, I’ll actually get the work done

(on time)

despite the procrastination,

which they frequently do not.

So many papers.  So tired from report cards and marking stacks of late assignments and prepping for a new semester and February.

So.

Tired.

But the end is in sight.

I can’t give up now.

 

poem-drain September 23, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:39 pm
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Like tepid water

we’re floating in

the faintest current,

flowing toward

a trickling drain

that empties

us into hollow

cavities

in evening.

 

 

slow September 25, 2012

Filed under: Commentary — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:59 pm
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I feel like I’m moving in slow motion this week.  All sorts of things are happening, and I’m watching them with a dull, glazed head.  I have so many things I need to get done in the next couple of weeks, but I am too foggy to concentrate on them.

I’m reading some interesting books, I’m getting lots of exercise, I’m sleeping more than I have in ages.  There is no good reason for me to be out of it.

I feel a bit like I am represented by the gladioli on my entry table.  They’ve drained their water, and have dried out, but they have formed such interesting, squiggly, abstract shapes, and faded into such an interesting colour that I haven’t had the heart to toss them out!  If I get some energy tomorrow, I’ll take a photo so you can see what I mean.

In the meantime, what interesting thing in your house represents you, these days?

As promised, here are my tired glads:

.

 

 
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