Shawn L. Bird

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

the fundamental fiction July 13, 2013

Filed under: OUTLANDERishness,Reading,Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:01 pm
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In love with a fictional character?

Honey.

Don’t you know that

ALL

objects of our desire

are fundamentally fictional?

Courtship

is a time of great performance,

convincing the other,

showing the best face,

doing things you’ve never done

(and won’t do again)

pretending you love each moment

to impress the object of your desire.

Love is always

fictional.

We love what we wish

it to be.

If we’re lucky,

when rose lenses are lost,

what we created in dream

bears enough

resemblance to reality

that truth

becomes better

than fiction.

.

.

In response to a Tweet about all the wild Outlander fans in a tizzy about Jamie Fraser coming to life.  I was thinking how we fictionalize real people all the time.

 

tree love July 9, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:35 pm
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You are a solid trunk,

knarled, mossy, tall

You look up

hearing Vivaldi

through the Rockies,

as I bud yellow green,

blossom pink,

blow petals on the breeze,

absorb the sun,

grow rich green,

dance in summer storms,

glow molten gold

firey orange and flaming blood,

throw all my soul

into the sky

and when pretention

falls away,

I rest,

naked,

upon you

and renew.

 

us

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:54 am
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I lost myself

searching for you.

I faded away

on filaments of fog;

I was ephemeral

but you were there

all along: a tall

strong fortress.

Grey walls

forbidding

forboding

forth coming

for nobody seen.

My cloud self

enwraps you,

enclosing us,

and we become

mystery.

 

from the owl to the lark July 5, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:31 pm
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As long as

I desire you at bedtime

and you desire me upon waking,

I think it will work out.

 

zinnia night July 2, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:36 pm
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Black night around us

you slice into my dream

and I see zinnias:

exploding  fireworks,

vivid petals raining down,

Colouring our embrace.

 

no alcohol fuel July 1, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 6:34 pm
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I do not need alcohol

to be drunk on you.

No need for Dutch courage

to face the daily chores.

No vomiting up my memories

of the night before.

With my absolutely clear head,

I am completely soused on us.

 

you June 18, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:41 pm
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Your footprints mark the dirt in your garden.

Your finger prints are on the door frame.

Your handwriting tells me we need

    Saskatoon berry jam

      potatoes

        and milk.

Your hair is tangled in your comb.

Your breath is in the bristles of your toothbrush.

Your head left its impression on your pillow.

Your scent is on your clothes in the closet.

But you

    are gone.

 

ocean angels June 17, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:10 pm
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You are a poem

that only angels know.

You move with the ocean’s pulse

waves kissing the shore

twice a day,

touching sky,

swelling with promise.

You are a poem

only the angels know,

but I am listening

for your words

on the wind,

reaching to catch

the rhythm,

in the rolling tide,

stretching to hear

the angels whisper.

You are a poem

I long to know.

 

overflowing June 8, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:18 am
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You look at my

half-empty glass

shake your head,

insert a straw,

blow in laughter and love,

and make my happiness

bubble up until it

overflows.

 

paper love May 15, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 8:28 pm
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I covet little papers
Adorned with your precise handwriting
Conveying adoration
Enumerating my suitability.

I covet little papers
You laugh at the saccharin sentimentality
Contrived emotionality
of your romantic immaturity

I covet little papers
Embarrassing legacy of first feeling
Precious pieces of paper
declaring what is now history

I covet little papers
memories of what was dreamt of then
A future that came true
Recorded for posterity

I covet little papers
of what you declared so long ago
promises then are the actions
of our long domesticity.