Shawn L. Bird

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

poem-pick axe March 14, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 5:59 pm
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I am a pick axe.

I grimly focus on the patch of ground

in front of me, and chip, chip, chip away

at the rocks that block my way.

I will wear down this mountain

day by day.

I will find a seam and harvest value.

Today, it may seem too hard to do,

but I will chip, chip, chip away anyway

until I’ve made a hill of this mountain,

and have found the other side..

.

.

.

I’m smack in the middle of my penultimate grad school course.  I’m finding it hard to concentrate, what with the recent family deaths and illness and related stress.  After a long day at work, I just want to curl up in a warm corner and snooze. This is a required course, so there’s nothing for it but chipping away at readings, chipping away at assignments, chipping away at papers, and then it’ll be over.  One month until the last paper is due, and then it’s through!  The end is nigh!

 

 

 

 

 

poem-tenaciousness March 11, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:52 am
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He walks with a personal cloud

dulling his world, blurring his perceptions.

Walling him in, between tendrils of fog

freezing him in place to avoid falling off the precipice.

Her arms are open with devotion and she calls to him,

but her voice bounces off rocks and mist.

Their mutual affections miss each other

in the haze, but both are sincere and will still be there

when the fog lifts

(or he goes over the cliff).

 

 

poem-ostrich day March 4, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:01 am
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I am overwhelmed

by my responsibilities

and the weight of my grief

that creeps up unexpectedly

to undermine my clarity

to bury me with memories

and underscore my sense of loss.

I’ll hide myself from Helios: find

some sand to stick my head beneath.

 

 

poem-bouquet March 3, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 6:24 pm
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Bright blooms

suggest spring:

carefree days,

novelty,

Bright blooms

celebrate spring:

gratitude,

optimism.

Summer soon.

 

poem-optimism March 1, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:41 am
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Each year a goose takes roost in

the osprey nest platform above the mill.

I suppose penthouse accommodations entice.

The view is lovely there,

and surely she feels superior to her kin

nesting waterfront (though their

recreational opportunities are greater).

Each year, after a month of goose occupancy,

the ospreys return.

I do not know the depth of the tragedy.

Do the evicted geese simply suffer homelessness,

or do they endure the grief of infanticide, as well?

Sometimes our lofty aspirations

are our undoing.

Our hubris is our hamartia,

but each year, in early spring, there’s a goose

in the osprey nest.

.

.

.

.

Remember your Shakespeare lessons?  Hamartia is the ‘fatal flaw’ of your personality that leads to your downfall (most commonly in literary tragedies).  Hubris is an excess of pride.

 

poem-trained February 25, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:07 pm
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Eyes forward

Seeing what he wants to see.

Ears closed to cries or criticism.

Fill out the forms

Check the boxes.

Everyone must fit somewhere,

conformity is the only rule.

Follow the tracks.

 

poem- today February 13, 2016

Filed under: Poetry,poodles — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:57 am
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Today,

grief is a roller coaster,

clicking forward minute by minute

and then with an errant thought

dropping my belly to my knees.

 

poem-dotty February 4, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 5:31 am
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Star speckled sky,

orbs orbiting,

motes in the sun beams,

circles circling,

dots on the shoes.

The most beautiful things in the world are round,

so I will celebrate my celestial shape.

 

poem- rockery January 29, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:52 am
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We played in the rockery

and you always skinned your knees

because adventure was so much better than caution,

and my mother wasn’t likely to smack you

for disturbing the hen and chicks blooming

in the crevices.

 

 

poem-lasting January 28, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:52 pm
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Don’t be a rose,

be a carnation.

Roses have thorns and

are wilting within a day.

Carnations have character

and they stick around for weeks.

There’s no pomp about carnations

they’re happily frilly and fun.

Rose are high maintenance

and will make you bleed.