Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- today October 13, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:36 am
Tags: , , , , , , ,

This is my only today

One opportunity to be

One chance to choose my way

One day to seize opportunities

This is my only today

.

This path is not the only way

I may choose other vistas to see

I may have new speeches to say

I may see what’s ugly beautifully

That path is not the only way.

 

poem-breeze July 1, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:36 pm
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Leaves wave

from tree tops

Some exhuberant,

amazed to greet the sky,

some, more lazily,

wave with sighs

 

 

 

poem-choosing March 31, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:28 pm
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Will I choose you?

Or you?

Or will I choose at all?

Am I ready for this work

of nurturing potential?

My world is wound tightly

with possibility,

fighting emotionality with

rationality.

 

poem-three March 8, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 8:21 am
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

twelve

one

two

three

o’clock.

This hotel room is absent of you,

No lovers’ talk,

just me,

myself,

and seven o’clock is coming far

too soon.

 

 

poem- gentle October 27, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 8:55 am
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

In your gentle embrace

everything that overwhelms

is erased.

 

poem- pickle poetry October 13, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:24 am
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Your jar of pickled poems–

cheek puckering poetry,

sour smiles behind glass–

makes me laugh.

.

PicklePoetry-Bethany.

.

My students handed in their poetry collections today.  Among them is a jar with poems written on green pickle shaped papers.  🙂   Bethany wins cutest poetry project.  Too bad it wasn’t a contest.  (Hmm.  Maybe next year?!)

 

poem- gone March 27, 2015

Filed under: Poetry,Reading — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:14 pm
Tags: , , , , , , ,

There was no way to stay.

Whatever choice was made

was bound to be wrong,

because this song we create

requires we pay again and again

for our harmonic

dissonance.

.

.

Still reading Jodi Picoult’s Mercy.   Do you write poems for the characters you read about?

 

 
%d bloggers like this: