It is a wearisome year
Each new day weighs heavier
than yesterday.
poem- feeling beachy November 18, 2020
Crashing waves
Splashing children
Deep thinking trickles like sand
I’m seeking peace:
waves wash over me.
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Demo cinquain poem for class today. Kids chose theme of beach, and I wrote a line with a different poetic device in each: alliteration, assonance, consonance, onomatopoeia, internal rhyme. Turns out, it sounds better in reverse, so that’s the version you see here.
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poem-they’re thinning the trees November 12, 2020
Pines and spruce tower
ninety feet into the air
a wall of green
a squirrel playground.
Broken by the last windstorm
Branches the size of adult legs snapped,
tangled,
blocking the road,
risking the roof.
With each roar of the chainsaw
years are cut away.
Now, we see the lights of town
glistening below.
Greenery sacrificed for urban beauty.
Our new view
comes with grief for the scent of spruce
in the waving wind.
Poem- Stinky socks cinquains October 2, 2020
(These were fun demos written with my students as we worked through some poetry devices on “Poetry Friday-the Wednesday edition”)
Super stinky socks
So easily knee socks crease
Stinky socks stick to my shoes
They slurp when I pull them out.
But say! My socks still rock!
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Socks are mittens for feet
Comfort like a warm fire in winter.
My wooly socks hug my feet
My silent shout of happiness
declares my stinky socks the finest perfume in the world.
I like my socks.
(Can you find assonance, alliteration, consonance, hyperbole internal rhyme, metaphor, onomatopoeia, oxymoron, personification, simile, and understatement?)
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poem- snow piles January 20, 2020
Narrow views
All white perspective
Cut down the plow pile
Find an eye hole
Explore more than your white world.
poem- picking light August 30, 2019
For Jordie
She sees it on the floor
reaches for the white spot:
light.
Three times the lights calls her.
Three times she reaches.
Three times she rolls her eyes.
She doesn’t need to pick up light,
it already glows within her,
touches everyone she knows.
Her light is kindness;
it’s overflowing,
and dripping on her floor.
poem- bad days November 29, 2018
When it’s a bad day,
the pain is there with waking.
Constriction or stabbing,
nausea or aching;
it fills the head until there is nothing in the world
but the hopeless frustration,
that I will never be well again.
When it’s a bad day,
there are no conversations,
no outings or errands,
only holding the head,
taking another pill,
and praying tomorrow will be
a better day.
poem- headphone man May 16, 2018
Hey, headphone man
with your head cast down,
I drive past you each day as you soldier on your way,
Always in the same place, unless you are late,
or I am early.
I try to catch your eye, but you march with determination
toward your destination.
I want to share our small connection, give a wave, or smile,
but you just stare at the ground, absorbed in the sound in your head.
Hey headphone man!
Look around!
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I’ve been working on this one for ages, as I do pass this guy every day on my way to work.
poem-interpretation February 6, 2018
The Lord of All Knowledge,
Gatekeeper of Truth,
says the poem means this.
Generations of readers bow
before this wisdom,
even though they don’t see it,
can’t believe it,
they just accept it.
When the poet reads
the critic’s piece,
she laughs and laughs
at the irony of such arrogant
assumptions!
Oh, student!
Good reader!
There are no errors
of interpretation in poetry!
Your experiences show you a meaning,
and if you can find lines to support,
your responses are just as valid as any critic’s.
(So the famous poet said to me,
and he should know).
poem- I want to know June 6, 2017
What I want to know
is what the magical ingredient is.
What’s that essential something
that makes this kid go “WOW!”?
Not just this kid, but that kid, too.
You know how some will not be moved,
never seem to find their groove?
I want the magical ingredient for them all,
so when they’re pushed from their nests
they don’t fall, they aim for the skies with eyes
open to opportunity, head full of curiosity.
Every time I think I know the secret
I see another one sneaking by,
not willing to try or
afraid
to try?
What’s broken their curiosity?
Taught them to close out possibility?
It hurts me.
I want to know if that kid
is going to move to his groove later.
Will he save his curiosity to ride a wave
at twenty instead?
I want to see it now,
but late is better than never.
I hope when it happens,
I’ll know.
Shawn L. Bird 