Shawn L. Bird

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

Poem: you May 7, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:24 am
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

You stand against the

wall, arms crossed, sardonic smile

immune to laughter.

.

You’ve seen darkness that

they can only imagine,

and you are hardened

.

from the admiration

of flirting gazes because

your heart is cold,

.

Frozen by bad maternity

and noncommittal

paternity.

.

Their bad judgements burn

within your heart until

destroying misery

.

means destroying

everything you should love,

innocent or guilty,

.

and then it means

flash firing your future,

scarring your life upon ours,

.

like a victim of

Hiroshima’s bombs whose life

vanishes in an

.

instant, leaving only

a silhouette, burnt white

on blackened walls.

.

.

I’m still processing the recent murder/suicide of a former student.   The idea of an image being frozen in memory by tragedy called to mind the silhouettes created in Hiroshima when people’s shadoes were left, though their bodies were vaporized.  While at first glance a free verse, the poem has some form: each triplet stanza follows the haiku syllable count (17 syllables per stanza) to reiterate this idea.

 

Poem: You’re Dead (pt. 2) May 5, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:25 pm
Tags: , , , , , , ,

You’re dead.

My head

a   kharmic  muddle

I mull upon

morality,

your despair,

a pall

wrapped ’round

mortality.

You’re dead.

.
(Still trying to wrap my head around the murder/suicide last week of a kid I knew and worried about).
 

Poem: You’re dead May 4, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:14 pm
Tags: , , , , , , ,

You’re dead.

You’ve bled

a carmine puddle

that pooled and

dripped down

the road,

drained

under my door

and into

my head.

 

Trust time May 3, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:31 am
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

It gets better.

Whatever pressure

is crushing you,

whatever frustrations

are tearing you apart,

will end.

Permanent solutions

to temporary problems

are a waste

of who you could be.

Don’t take drastic actions

when patience could prevail

and provide purpose

for the brilliant future

you deserve.

Whatever burdens you,

buries you,

bullies you,

will end.

Call for help

It’s here.

Hold hope in your hands.

Give your future a chance.

Trust time to release you

from pain,

not death.

.

.

In an exercise of hope, I wrote this in present tense, though it is a letter to a brilliant young man who once sat in my class room, and sadly did not trust time: so much potential, crushed by despair, frustration and anger.  I am mourning the loss of his shadowed light in our world.  It only needed time for it to shine brilliantly, but he did not wait to see.

 

 

I don’t know you April 13, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:39 am
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

I don’t know you

and now I never will.

I wanted to.

.

Now you’re gone forever

and I will never

know you,

love you.

.

But I will grieve

for what

might have been.

 

mistakes March 30, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:07 am
Tags: , , , ,

It wasn’t one

to grab you so tightly that my fingers turned white

and to kiss you until my lips bled in bed at night.

It wasn’t one

to dream it could possibly be me and you

or to fight to make it true.

It wasn’t one

to fill every day with our love year after year

then to fight as days filled with fear.

What was one

was that your body betrayed us

and you’re riding off into the sunset

without me.

.

For David & Julia

 

 

change haiku June 3, 2012

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:12 am
Tags: , , , , ,

The song of the chimes

should be ringing from the porch

but you like silence

 

gone, not forgotten September 2, 2011

Filed under: anecdotes,Friendship — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:24 am
Tags: , , ,

Once upon a time I had a friend who was a middle child.  She was an eldest daughter between a precious son and an adorable daughter.  She was the kind of child who chafed at constriction, who felt injustice and inequality, who was determined to have her own way even if it hurt.

She made some choices that were painful for friends and family alike.  But time wore down the edges, softened attitudes and then life blossomed.  She joyfully awaited the birth of a child.  Like many things with her, it was a high risk endeavour.  She didn’t do things the easy way.  Doctors said they’d ensure the delivery was a safe one.

The child arrived, but the delivery wasn’t safe.   There came baby, blood, coma and after a time of lingering, she left.  A final injustice.

She didn’t get to see her baby grown into an amazing young woman.  She didn’t get to become all she could have been herself.  But she lives on in our memories, and on her birthday, a tear may fall…

Thinking of  her today.

 

Hey Death. October 24, 2010

Filed under: Friendship,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:14 am
Tags: , , ,

Excuse the informal attire.

I suppose you’re used to

people taking this all a lot more seriously.

We’ve spent so much time

together these last few months

as you hovered over the ward

that I feel like we are old…

well, not quite friends exactly,

but at least… familiars.

I’m not planning to spend much

time with you, either.

I’m just walking through the woods

on my way to glory.

So I’m going to forgo the suit,

if you don’t mind,

and I’ll rest in this box in my denim

until the day I raise on the wings

of dawn.

.

.

RIP Daniel Ross Brown

September 17, 1960 – October 24, 1998
I can’t believe it’s been this long.  We’ve missed you.
.
.
The inspiration for this poem came from one on Darlene’s site:
and particularly the discussion after it.  Death doesn’t deserve a suit…
 

Mother’s day of anguish May 9, 2010

Filed under: Commentary — Shawn L. Bird @ 5:24 am
Tags: ,

Mothers’ Day: another artificial holiday meant to cause disappointment in the population.

Mothers deserve a day, sure, but it is an awful thing to arbitrarily create a day that is bound to cause pain in so much of the population. We already have Christmas for that. Do we really need another day of anguish?

So here’s thinking of those who’ve lost their mothers either to death, disease, or dementia.  Here’s  to those whose memories of mother is one of abuse or neglect.  Here’s also to those who’ve lost their babies, whether before birth, just after, to childhood disease or trauma, or as adults. Here’s to those with empty arms who long to hold a babyof their own. Here’s to those whose living children are lost to them.

To my friends and all of you with hurting hearts this day, I send you all my love.  Today let us celebrate the strength of the human spirit to rise above our pain and sadness and  to carry on day by day striving to find joy and love wherever we can.