Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- Worshipping anger April 15, 2019

Your pain bursts out the barrel of a gun

punches holes through community

explodes small town security.

Neutrality’s a liar.

And in world news:

Notre-Dame Cathedral is on fire.

.

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My own photo, detail around the main entrance of Notre-Dame. Paris, 2011.

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My own photo. Notre-Dame tower details. Paris. 2010

 

A poem should stand on its own merits, but I feel like a bit of clarification this time.  There was a shooting in my small, Canadian town yesterday.  Two people were shot in their church; one died. Our community has been reeling from this shock, and now another tragedy.  The loss of life. The loss of a building.  Can you compare the two?

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Tangled April 2, 2019

Filed under: Poetry,Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:09 am
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Be tangled in the words.

Weave yourself ability.

Knit a world.

Unravel negativity.

Crochet characters uncurled

Stitch together possibilities.

Wind yourself in words.

 

 

poem- seen and not heard January 22, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:41 am
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Murmuring voices

racing around me, vacuum engine growl,

white noise.

Words without meaning.

Sound without sense.

There you are.

Your mouth moves,

but I can not hear you

anymore.

 

poem- him December 14, 2018

Yes, there is laughter;

I see it sparkling in those eyes,

twinkling in the crevices of his face.

I see it dancing,

in those jaunty steps,

off-kilter, long-legged ramblings.

I see it in the shaking shoulders,

heaving joy, hard embraces.

There is laughter through that body,

whether we hear it

or not.

 

 

poem- drifting December 10, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:09 am
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Snow flakes drift by,

washing the world white.

Cold drips down my neck,

scarf scratching,

steps slipping,

breath billows in small clouds,

miniature factories.

Trudge through the flakes

filling the sky,

painting a picture of

a world wiped clean.

 

 

 

poem- no fantasy? no romance? December 1, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:21 pm
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It is so sad

that you eschew fantasy and romance in your world.

Without fantasy, where is imagination? Where is spark? Where is possibility?

Without romance, where is connection? Where is life? Where is compatibility?

You, ‘realist’ are deluded.

Facing reality means seeing above, below, beyond, and through.

Recognizing the power of the metaphor.

Feeling the electricity of a touch, when your love has gone.

Celebrating what may be.

It means believing in hope.

A realist is a dead shell lapped upon the beach,

while a great ocean signs beside it and carries whales

and sailing ships off over the horizon.

You can still be sensible,

and see the magic of the world.

 

poem-falling November 21, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:52 pm
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Snow is falling by the window:

down,

slanted,

sideways,

sparsely,

heavily,

quickly,

slowly.

Everything is possible;

you don’t need to know.

Just rest at the window,

watch the snow.

 

 

 
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