Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- Worshipping anger April 15, 2019

Your pain bursts out the barrel of a gun

punches holes through community

explodes small town security.

Neutrality’s a liar.

And in world news:

Notre-Dame Cathedral is on fire.

.

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My own photo, detail around the main entrance of Notre-Dame. Paris, 2011.

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My own photo. Notre-Dame tower details. Paris. 2010

 

A poem should stand on its own merits, but I feel like a bit of clarification this time.  There was a shooting in my small, Canadian town yesterday.  Two people were shot in their church; one died. Our community has been reeling from this shock, and now another tragedy.  The loss of life. The loss of a building.  Can you compare the two?

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poem-evacuated May 10, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:06 pm
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The city is empty

save for the fire fighters.

Lines of vehicles

…………..    ………wind past

……………………….         ………wind through

………………………..wind by

devouring  walls of  flame

fanned by wind;

neighbourhoods empty

except for the crackle

of destruction.

 

 

 

 

 

poem-compassion December 3, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:46 am
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She said, compassion is a light.

It attracts those in darkness who then devour it.

Oh what a sad and bitter theory!

No.

Compassion is a fire that burns freely

and radiates warmth and comfort to those who draw near.

Fuel for compassion is love and contentment, which renews the fire regardless if anyone has gathered to enjoy the heat.

Compassion can not be taken, it can only be given;

it is the essence of its fuel.

No one who is truly compassionate can be bitter,

because bitterness is the antithesis to love and contentment.

 

poem-ginger snap January 17, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:40 am
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The fiery flame of your hair

declares you.

You flash with fury and

unleash lashes of your tongue.

Light catches

in the disapproving flips

of your flickering locks,

We witness your scorching glare.

Viewed from a distance,

a bonfire is a beautiful thing

and I occasionally enjoy ginger snaps

while watching the fire.

.

.

Ah, it’s a stereotype, I know, but sometimes folks walk right into their cliché and live there.

 

poem- Ode to the @ShawFireLog December 23, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:18 am
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Oh beautious fire

Seeking to break

from the TV screen

and to devour

the drapes forever

out of reach.

I feel your pseudo-warmth

and hear your rich

crackling call.

Festive fire

Turned and fed

by the flannel

garbed arm,

you will not harm,

shoot cinders far,

force risk by axe

splitting logs, or

lugging them inside.

My floors are clean

but lack the lingering

scent of cold pine.

Yet still, you remind me

of fires from Christmases past

and fires yet to be.

You are quite festive enough

for me.

 

poem- fiery eyes November 19, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:41 pm
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Mist drifts on snowy mountains,

slash piles burning:

molten eyes in a ghostly face

glowing above us

 

tanka- fire August 10, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 8:33 am
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Illuminated sky,

brazing forest surrounds us.

Pile life in the car

Ghostly rain of pine needles

That are powder at my touch.

.

This month is the tenth anniversary of the Okanagan Mountain Fire.  In 2003 this devastating fire surrounded the hills in Kelowna, led to the evacution of 27,000 people (including my parents). 239 buildings were destroyed.  As we were evacuating my parents, ash was falling from the sky.  When we looked into our boxes later, they had many grey pine needles in, but when I reached to pick them out, they dissolved.

 

 
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