Shawn L. Bird

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

on being thoroughly mused June 30, 2013

For Outlander author Diana Gabaldon:

.

You

were not

just kissed

by the muse,

Diana, huntress,

goddess of the moon.

You were ravaged.

You were embraced;

your buttocks clutched

and hoisted high,

as the muse impaled you,

roughly pierced your soul,

raised hairs the whole length of you.

Seized by such  divine  inspiration,

you stretched, back arching,

and received the pulsing

thrusts of

.

w

o

r

d

s

,

w

o

r

d

s

,

w

o

r

d

s.

.

Excruciating

ecstasy

that  called forth

rippling quivers,

left you heaving,

complete,

replete,

and pregnant

with story.

.

Diana muse

.

This post began with a random comment made on Diana Gabaldon’s Facebook page yesterday, and here we are!  My first erotica!  ((blush))  lol

.

For those who wondered, yes, Diana has seen this, and I even have a recording of her laughing lustily about it, as we were wrapping up our blue pencil at SIWC 2013. 🙂  Her comment, should you not be able to read the image is, “Wow! That’s a GREAT poem Shawn! I’m truly honoured #mindIusuallyhavetodomoreofthework”

 eroticpoetrypostOnBeingMused

In August 2013 she dedicated her Daily lines to me:

ThisonesforShawnLBirdpoetess

The daily lines in question can be read here:

http://www.twitlonger.com/show/n_1rlp46l

And if you’re a fan of Outlander and are now watching the TV series, you may enjoy the poem Dear Sam Heughan from August 2013 when Sam was first cast to play Jamie:  Diana has seen this one as well, and coached me through some necessary vocabulary alterations (see notes at the end). 😉

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ouch April 26, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:59 am
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

head in vice

waves of fire engulf me,

then ebb, and I’m left drenched

boiling in my skin

head in vice

.

.

I’m home sick today.  This is why.  😦  These debilitating waves have been coming all morning.  It’s horrible.  I was in bed until noon, when the need for pain killer forced me to move.  It is not pretty.  I hope you’re having a much better day!

 

Broken girl February 13, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:21 am
Tags: , , ,

You saw a broken girl
Eyes wary
Feet swift.
I saw a dangerous girl
Eyes calling
Feet daring.
They saw a cunning girl
Eyes lying
Feet sneaking
You saw a broken girl
And remembered
Yourself.

 

inkless poems February 11, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:19 am
Tags: , , , ,

You do not write

love poetry in ink.

You write me

love poems

with wrenches,

screwdrivers,

and snow shovels.

You are

a breathing

love poem.

 

flaming bridges June 22, 2011

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:58 am
Tags: , ,

March on
there is no going back
to the poverty of that place
the weakness of spirit
the negative helplessness
that grabs and pulls at rescuers

 like a frantic drowning man.

March on
to the sunrise over the hill
to the success that awaits
to the skilled craftsmen
No more wasted hours while poor work unfolded
and you bought things you didn’t need in kind charity.
No more frustration at the
self-imposed and self-declared uselessness.

March on
and shake the dust off the sandals.
♪ There will be poor always,
pathetically struggling ♪
You have done what you could
and now you are free

 to stomp over the bridge
march on.

 

iloveross17 (chapter six) April 15, 2011

Filed under: narrative,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:26 pm
Tags: , , ,

click NARRATIVE above to see all previous chapters

.

Chapter six

Log in
User name- SuzieQ
Password- confused1

CHAT ALERT!

Dave – Hey!

SuzieQ- what have u been saying?

Dave – ?

SuzieQ – about us making out?

Dave – ohh

SuzieQ – so?

Dave has left the chat

Log off

 

Hawai’i love March 10, 2011

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:22 am
Tags: , ,

For many years

your love

was an ocean:

pacific,

glorious.

Your dreams

flowed around you like fish,

swirling with life

joy

terror

and companionship.

The storms came

upon tropic seas

but

blue waves

rocked you

back to

comfortable

complacency.

Firey red

tropical nights

bathed you in

beauty.

.

All was well

on the surface.

.

Beneath

the waves

lava

bubbled.

You didn’t understand

when steam

purcolated

on schedule

releasing the stress

beneath the surface

that the day

was coming when it’d

erupt in

turbulent

broil and

form a solitary island

with a different

perspective on

 the ocean.

.

Love

is still

a vast ocean.

Possibility

spreads upon a

limitless horizon.

Climb into your boat:

go fish.

There are many

dreams swirling

in the ocean.

 

 
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