Shawn L. Bird

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

poem-shared November 27, 2020

It starts with a shoemaker:

distinctive shoes

loud shoes

not for hiding shoes.

It grows with friends:

shared shoe styles

shared eccentricity

shared creativity.

It rests in comfort:

not alone.

Celebrate unique soles

together.

.

.

.

My Nikki Knox collaborator, Nikolette, also a teacher, and I are feeling rather stressed these days as the second wave of the pandemic strikes with rising numbers in schools. We are consoling each other by wearing the same Fluevog shoes this week (we have several pairs in common). Though we are 800 km apart, we are in each other’s hearts and soles. 🙂

 

poem- didn’t say July 9, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:11 pm
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He didn’t say it.

Not on the day

or the day after, when he used to remember.

No more embers. glowing.

Not hanging on the threads anymore, I just realized.

How strange when forever

truly dies.

 

poem-preservation June 10, 2019

We need to be respectful

of tender psyches, mental illness,

all the agonies of existence.

We need to be respectful

of our own tenderness

and pained existence.

When being gentle of their tender troubles,

makes aches worse for ourselves,

who needs to respect whom?

Draw battle lines,

or at least find a bastion

against cries

calling you to your destruction,

dragging you to drown in the moat of their fragility.

Be respectful of your own precious sanity.

 

poem-serendipity March 12, 2016

Filed under: Friendship,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:29 pm
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Old friend synchronicity

Visiting one,

Another arrives out of the blue.

After forty years,

there are sympathetic vibrations

that draw us together:

joyful serendipity.

 

 

poem- addressing memories November 1, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:30 am
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Turning pages in the address book

cross a line across another entry.

Turning pages

studying the names crossed out

A memorial of friends and family gone

Greetings sent in murmured prayers

to rest in peace.

 

poem- small August 12, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:55 pm
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I am in the pet store, studying dog food

Oh, here you are! I saw your car!

Chat for 30 minutes with a friend I haven’t seen in awhile.

Buy dog food.

Go to fabric store, looking at sewing machines.

Oh, here you are! I saw your car!

Chat for 30 minutes with a friend I saw just last week.

Run into a student.  Oh! What are you doing these days?

Chat for five minutes.

Hey! I know someone who’s hiring in your field, I’ll send you her contact.

Driving down the street, pedestrians wave greetings.

Everywhere you go in a small town

you know you belong.

.

.

.

(and sometimes errands take MUCH longer than planned!) 😉

 

poem-then love April 29, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 8:24 am
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I told you

I’d love you forever

You told me you loved me

and we’d be friends forever.

I meant every deluded nuance.

You figured optimism works out

but you also said you couldn’t answer

to what would happen if I snuck into your room

and you woke to my face hovering above you.

That intriguing notion made me giggle at the joke.

But you kept your door locked, just in case.

Did you hear the door knob rattle?

Then the plane took off,

without me hiding in your luggage

as you’d suggested I could.

Our next phone call clarified

the kindness of lies.

and the length reality stretches

to cling to an illusion.

I’ve been grateful for

the elasticity of spurious delusion

every day of my life.

I craft my reality in my imagination:

You are whoever I make you to be.

Do I cover you with armour?

Compel piano mastery?

Some loves last through time:

mythical love need not be mocked.

What you hear, is never what truly was.

It’s what was crafted to tell the tale that needed to be told.

You are a character in the love story,

and I can always kill you off in

literary impunity.

.

Shape poem of a chess piece.  Clear?  Metaphor of the game.  Get it?

 

anecdote-overheard in the classroom October 15, 2014

Filed under: anecdotes,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:05 am
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“I know this guy

who chopped off all his fingers in a blender.”

What?  Was he intoxicated? drunk? high?

“Nope.”

You’re kidding.  Why would he do that?

“Well, you know, he wanted to prove he could touch

the middle of the chopping part without getting hurt.”

But he couldn’t, apparently.

Shrug.  “I guess not.”

Huh.

“Yeah. People from Calgary are stupid.”

.

.

.

Sometimes, I am very afraid for the youth of today.

 

 

anecdote- colouring eyebrows October 10, 2014

Filed under: anecdotes — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:45 am
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Over heard in the staff room:

K- Even if I don’t wear any other makeup, I have to wear mascara: my lashes are white!

S- Me, too.  I use it on my eyebrows, too.

D- What!? Why don’t you just dye your brows?

S- Meh. That’d take time for an appointment and money.  Why bother, my hand’s up there doing my lashes anyway, it’s just an inch further to do a brow.

K- But mascara is so crusty!

S- So? It’s not like I want them billowing in the wind or anything.

🙂

.

.

(At work, they haven’t learned to say, “Don’t put this on your blog!” yet) 😉

 

poem- returning September 22, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:39 pm
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I tried to

return your letters

once,

but they are

still here,

and the hurt

in your voice

still echoes,

when I unfold

pages.

 

 
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