Shawn L. Bird

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

poem-light May 30, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:55 am
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You’re a beacon, baby

Oh yeah.

You flicker like a flame

and I come to you.

I’m a lost ship.

I’m a moth.

You’re a candle

when the power’s out.

You’re a flashlight

slicing through the night.

You’re a beacon, baby.

Bring me home.

.

.

.

Hmm. Sounds like it wants to be a song, doesn’t it?

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poem- resourceful October 6, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:25 am
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I tied the sheets around the bedpost,

dropped out the window out of sight,

followed you down to the River Styx

with the water dark as night.

I leapt.  You bet.

I swam against the current

bumped against all those lost souls

but I was going to find you, and I did.

I tossed a coin to the boatman as he poled  along his way, I crawled into the boat

and I did say,

I told you

and I told you

and I told you.

I don’t care how black your night is

I don’t care how deep the pit

I will follow you and pull you back for air.

I will follow through the darkness

I will swim the River Styx

I will do it because that’s what marriage is.

It’s sticking when your hearts in little bits.

Kharon shrugs his shoulders, pulls us up to the next dock

He doesn’t care if we should choose to walk.

I wrap my arms around you and I drag you to the light,

because you’re too precious not to fight with all my might.

If I must be the strength then so be it,

let’s do what we can to make you fit,

I promised I’d be there for better or for worst

and Baby, I’m not driving with that hearse!

In sickness and in health, In poverty and wealth

I told you

and I told you

and I told you.

I don’t care how black your night is

I don’t care how deep the pit

I will follow you and pull you back for air.

I will follow through the darkness

I will swim the River Styx

I will do it because that’s what marriage is.

It’s sticking when your heart’s in little bits.

And I’m sticking so let’s hear no more of this.

I’m strong this time, and you’ll be fine

We all suffer those hits.

I’m strong this time, and you’ll be fine

in time.

In time.

In time.

In time, Baby you’ll be fine.

.

.

.

.

I had no idea what that was when the first lines came, but apparently it’s the lyrics to a country song about dealing with a spouse with depression.  Who knew!  

 

poem- rumbling October 7, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 5:00 pm
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She arrives home exhausted.

“Ooh,” he says, nose curled.

“Those pants are terrible.”

She stares at him, deposits groceries on the counter,

heads down the hall,

and collapses into bed, too tired

to discuss appropriate comments,

respect, and positive encouragement.

She sleeps.

Hours later, she awakens, hungry,

makes some toast.

He comes upstairs.  “The kid is out,” he says,

heading to the bedroom.

Ah, she thinks.  That’s code for ‘Apology sex.’

Wise of him.

She bathes, listening to him preparing

in the other bathroom.

She climbs into bed,

to find him snoring.

She wishes she had eaten beans,

cauliflower

and cabbage for dinner.

She ponders delivering a two footed

kick to his backside, propelling him out of bed,

and into the wall.

(An easy task, since now she probably outweighs him).

Instead, she rolls over,

and sleeps.

 

poem- walking June 28, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:01 am
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you

me

.   sauntering

strolling     .

.           meandering

traipsing              .

.                          ambling

lumbering                     .

.                                    lurching

staggering                                    .

.                                              tottering

striding                                                   .

.                                                          marching

lunging                                                              .

we

embrace

.

.

.

I hope this works on your monitor.  The 2 perspectives should come evenly from either side to meet at “we / embrace”

 

 
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