Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- memory May 12, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:46 pm
Tags: , , , ,

The scent of dinner,

Your favourite,

brings you back to life,

calls you from beyond

in a gush of anguish.

Oh, I long to look

into your sparkling eyes,

and serve you soup.


poem-longing February 9, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:34 pm
Tags: , , , , , ,

Every minute that I wait for you

I will be longing for your arms

for the solace of your comfort

for the tenderness of your lips

While I am driving home

I will be wishing to have arrived.

You may not believe it’s true

but I always long to be with you.



poem- cooking October 15, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:08 am
Tags: , , , , , , , ,


the expression of distraught incredulity

on the dog’s face as

a tantalizing utensil travels above his head

on the way to the sink,

instead of to his dish.


poem- late July 13, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:42 am
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

Eleven forty-two

and I’m missing you

You said you’d be back between

eleven thirty and twelve o’clock

I hope you didn’t stop anywhere because it seems

The minutes are hours and I’m powerless

with longing.  I guess this means

I love you, even though now it’s

eleven fifty-two





(Actually, he came through the door at 11:47, right on schedule.  Poetic license!)  🙂


poem- Thank you July 10, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 8:37 am
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Thank you

though you broke my heart into pieces

that never quite went back together the same way again,

Thank you.

You said I knew you better than anyone.  I floated on those words

hopeful they meant forever.

You knew and every word was true.

But knowing didn’t mean staying.

Knowing meant facing painful truths

Knowing didn’t erase you,

it released me.

Thank you.


poem- hidden October 18, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:37 pm
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

In the hidden folds

a tiny desire rests,

A covert longing,


You sense it’s there

a tiny, unseen lump,

caught in the fibres

of your life.

You ignore it,

though you feel it



You keep it secret.

Until finally

you must pick at it,

stretch threads apart,

catch a corner,

then pulling,

and pulling,

and pulling,

like a silk scarf

from a magician’s wand,




until the room is filled

with the vivid kaleidoscope of colour

the  billowing

reality of your unspoken dreams

coming true.




poem- honey January 8, 2014


are ancient honey,

immutable in memory.


Floating on your laughter

I could touch stars.


The world was rose pink

with my yearning.


A sunrise through spectacles,

song rising on dawn,

desire enfolded in dream,

I wore innocence.


Your sweet kisses

colour my cheeks

in memory.


poem- Adrian October 20, 2013

Adrian, muscles rippling

and  glistening from summer sun,

as the girls grip

their nails in their fists, wishing.

Adrian, head emerging from car engine

wringing greasy hands,

and grinning a greeting,

reaching for his shirt,

as the girls glide in, sniffing;

whiffing at pheromones

that hint of moaning, groaning


Good girls watching as

Adrian gets ready

for Bible study.


poem- distance does not change the feelings September 26, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 5:11 pm
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

The distance does not change the feelings.

the reeling,


squealing of my soul,

no longer whole.

The space between us stretches

and in the distance you grow small

and old,

But time has folds

in dreams I hold

you close

My soul finds healing.

Though space and time change feelings,

you haven’t changed at all.

First line compliments of

on Twitter


listening on the lake August 15, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:37 pm
Tags: , , , , , , ,

A lone loon

intones a poem

lingering long

across the lake.

Its echoing call’s

a prayer chant.

Summer song

whispered on the water

Lonely loon

listens for his lover

lost in

melancholy memories

of sun sambas on waves.

Haunting ghost calls

as cabins close

and summer dies.



If you haven’t heard a loon call, here is a nice video that captures the mournful quality of their song:


%d bloggers like this: