Shawn L. Bird

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

Poem-perfect picks September 22, 2022

Filed under: fun,poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:07 pm
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Another tautogram poem, this time on the letter P.

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Penelope phones Philip.

Pals?

Probably? Possibly?

Philip’s philosophisizes prior panegyric’s painful.

Penelope ponders Philip’s preachy palaver,

Parsing phrases, puzzling prosody:
Pasty poetry. 

Pall permeates.

Penelope’s perky, pretty, popular.

Point: Penelope’s perversely pitiful picking Philip! Plough politeness Penelope!  Possess proper prize!
Princely prospects prove perfect!
Pitch Philip! Pick pyrotechnics!

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A tautogram (Greek: taut-same, gram-letter) is a poem in which every word starts with the same letter. Unlike alliteration, the words do not have to sound the same.

 

poem- guard dogs not on duty September 5, 2022

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:25 pm
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Little dogs
sleeping in
the sunbeam.

Conserving
energy
for defence.

In case of
slamming car
doors or cats.

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Tricube poem: 3 stanzas of 3 lines of 3 syllables.

 

Poem- A potato fork poem August 23, 2022

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:35 pm
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A POTATO FORK POEM

(for Brenda)

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Fellow forks, beware!

Do stay away from here!

Brenda takes us

then she breaks us.

Oh tremble! Feel fear!

Come only if you dare!

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Digging rocks and boulders

(Putting bodies in the ground?)

Brenda will abuse you

Aggressively use you

Your handle’s snapping sound

Means you won’t get older.

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Forks, do NOT come near!

Get the fork out of here!

 

poem- Sibling Rivalry October 29, 2020

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:14 am
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The air was crisp
The sky was damp
My brother hissed
Under the lamp
 
The sky was damp
My sister screamed
Under the lamp
Its powerful beams
 
My sister screamed
The monster’s eyes
Its powerful beams
Her soul it fries
 
The monster’s eyes
The horror grows
Her soul it fries
Its hot breath blows
 
The horror grows
More monsters lurk
Its hot breath blows
My brother smirks
 
More monsters lurk
My brother hissed
My brother smirks
The air was crisp

This was a demo pantoum written with my class today when they were introduced to the form. It took an unexpected turn! 🙂

If you scroll to the bottom, WordPress will probably link to a couple of other pantoums written with my classes in previous years. They are entertaining.

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(ignore any WordPress ads here)

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poem-hope I remembered the snow brush December 16, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:18 pm
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Snow

snow

snow

snow

snow

snow

snow

snow

snow

snow

snow

snow snow snow

snow snow snow snow

snow snow snow snow snow

snow snow snow snow snow snow

snow snow snow car snow snow snow

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(It just occurred to me, that I don’t remember if I put a brush in my car yet this year.  Fingers crossed! ’cause there’s a lot of snow falling outside my window!)

 

poem-living September 20, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 8:38 pm
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You drive away after a visit.

“He got his licence back!”

“That’s great for 101!”

“No! He’s 105 now!”

“and blind!”

Oh, dad.

Thanks for stopping by

to make me laugh

in dreams.

 

poem- computer woes November 24, 2017

 

You ask me for my email address

When given, much to my distress

You claim it’s already registered.

Why yes!  I tell machine, that’s me, for sure!

You ask me for  user name and password

But when I type them, you claim I’m invalid.

Oh, you passive aggressive machine,

You’re not acting like part of this team!

Inside the circuits of your brain

you’re plotting how to cause me pain.

I can hear your fan blade snicker,

as you plot to raise blood pressure.

Oh computer, use your power for good,

and work like the techies claim you should!

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(Another day, another frustrating encounter with technology!)

 

 

poem- hatted June 22, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:33 am
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A jaunty hat catches eyes

inspires a smile.

A jaunty hat always tries

to beguile

but it’s too happy to seduce

its morals are not loose

That hat’s a joyful

welcome mat to fun.

 

poem- wiggy January 12, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:42 pm
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How is it that I have any hair on my head,

When I just cut enough off of the vacuum beater bar

to make a wig?

 

poem- a trifle January 11, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 5:04 pm
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A trifle is an insignificant thing

but not so when set within a trifle bowl

filled to the brim with

custard, cake, whipped cream

and pudding or gelatin

Any of which is itself complete

but oxymoronically a trifle is not trifling feast.

 

 
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