Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- around the world April 6, 2020

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:06 pm
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I’m on a site celebrating my adopted culture

when someone asks which of us were exchange students.

Suddenly there are 50 comments:

their years, their homes, their hosts.

Someone writes to me from Australia,

“We were there at the same time. I wonder if we met?”

Imagine that.

A virtual rendez-vous decades later.

A tiny marble, this globe; we can

almost hold it in our hands.

 

 

poem-living September 20, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 8:38 pm
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You drive away after a visit.

“He got his licence back!”

“That’s great for 101!”

“No! He’s 105 now!”

“and blind!”

Oh, dad.

Thanks for stopping by

to make me laugh

in dreams.

 

poem- I remember February 22, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:26 am
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Some prompt poetry today:

.

I remember

yellow days,

sun bright on daffodil hills,

air stained with smokey forest pyres,

golden nights.

I remember

empty room,

first promise you failed,

fear.

I remember

twinkling eyes

hope

belief in forever.

I remember

.

.

.

Prompts from my 123 prompts for Writers & Poets book, a yellow day, a moment that scarred you, someone you value.

 

poem-flashes February 8, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:26 pm
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I’ve forgotten your name,

but one glance at the back of a pear-shaped girl

in a tight striped top and jeans,

brought you sailing through the years.

Short, feathered hair.

Acne scars.

Knock-kneed shuffle.

Booming laugh.

Where did I know you?

Whoever you are,

I hope you’re happy today.

I hope your life has been all you dreamed.

 

poem- flash December 31, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:11 am
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Just like that

you were back.

A flash.

Years had disappeared.

Your hair glistened in the light of the theatre,

our laughter and the crunch of popcorn on the air.

A flash.

Grief seeped through me,

sucking me back to the day they said

you were gone.

.

.

RIP Lloyd. 1964-1997 No one is truly dead until they are not remembered any more.

 

poem- hockey night at our house April 20, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:44 pm
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I turn on the TV:
Hockey commentary.
I am ten again.
Dad’s in the family room.
Whooping
Groaning
Arguing with the ref.
I feel a rush of nostalgia.
Turn the channel.

 

poem-next April 8, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:30 am
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This moonlit night,

snow glowing with

luminescent memories,

I stroll along the old paths

thinking of the mystery you

made of me.

Identity molded like play dough

childhood laughter

leaching from the cracks of yesterday.

I can’t say anymore

who I am.

.

(another character perspective poem about Lydia & Dustin)

 

 

poem-boxes January 9, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:20 pm
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Boxed up

memories, wrapped carefully

in torn tissue paper,

worn over years.

Boxed up

histories, revisited annually-

unwrapping melancholy,

tying it on a tree.

 

poem- indeed December 21, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:19 pm
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Indeed,

there is a moment

when hushed memories sneak,

creeping behind you.

You hear the creak, and turn

to find those lost

those missed,

those grieved.

They’re whispers caught

on remembered phrases,

favourite songs;

you’re sure you hear their voices.

Indeed, there are moments

when ghosts hover;

in memories

their love remains.

 

 

poem-nudge December 6, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:45 pm
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Of course.

I will.

I say it.

I mean it.

But.

Squirrel!

Remind me,

I say.

I mean it.

Of course,

I will.

I mean it.

I will.

Oh, right,

I forgot.

.

.

.

Sometimes, our good intentions get lost in our busyness!  How many times have I told people to remind me what I’ve agreed to do for them, because I will likely forget, despite my willingness?  I’ve got a memory like a sieve, despite my best intentions.  Does this happen to you, too?  How awkward is it to make the nudging calls or send the nudging message?  Will you nudge, or do you presume the person really doesn’t want to do it?  I worry people think I don’t mean it when I ask them to remind me.  

 

 

 
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