Shawn L. Bird

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

poem-waiting in line March 11, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 8:21 pm
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Another car

goes ice dancing

swirling

spinning

from one side of the road to the other

Sending inhabitants flying

in the death spiral.

Stop! Accident scene!

and I must wait

First in line

While 3 ambulances

2 fire trucks

2 marked police cars

4 unmarked police cars

and 2 tow trucks

sort everything out

45 mins late for work

this morning

but thankful

not to be

in one of the ambulances.

I was doing that

ice dance in the same place yesterday.

One moment we are travellers

the next we are dancers

facing a sudden stop

and a different journey.

 

 

 

poem-spring melt March 9, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:54 pm
Tags: , , , , , ,

The snow is melting!

I hear water tumbling like a waterfall

dripping into pool.

Cascading down my window blinds

puddling inside my door.

The snow is melting!

and I need a new roof.

.

.

.

 

poem- trim time

Filed under: Poetry,poodles — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:06 am
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Your toe nails

echo in the hall like

a cavalcade of snare drums.

Thundering timpanic tribulation

of tip tapping echoing through my brain,

draining me of peace.

Your toe nails

four times four feet times two

(two square roots of feet)

Are a private percussion section

depriving me of sleep.

.

.

.

I need to trim the dogs’ toe nails.

Arg.

 

poem- quilting world March 7, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:29 am
Tags: , , , , , ,

The lake is charcoal flannel serge

bound with an ermine edge

beneath a quilt batting sky.

 

 

poem- march away! March 5, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:42 am
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Winter

marching

heavily through spring.

Winter

march

away,

and take

all this falling snow

with you.

.

.

Heavy snow today, making the highway treacherous.  Fun drive to work.  We’re ready for less white and more warmth in the air!

 

poem-tending roses March 3, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:30 am
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

I should have

warned you about our bud.

She’s thorny

but she’s precious.

Touch her brusquely

and you’ll bleed from flesh

torn by her thorns. 

They are sharp, but they protect

a precious bud.

Some day, if we tend her well

she will blossom into a glorious rose,

for now she is a thorny stalk

with a tentative bud,

doubtful of blooming.

She will need to be coaxed,

but someday, her unique beauty

will amaze you.

She will show the world

talent, insight, and vision.

She’ll be a complexity of

colour, scent, tenacity.

For now, she is a thorny stalk,

but we have faith

the guarded bud

will bloom

 

 

 

poem- snow falling March 2, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:38 pm
Tags: , , , , , ,

Snow falling

a white world

Pure motives

clean character

Love calling

to warm bed

longing

laughing

falling.

.

.

(This is my 1300th blog post!  Hurrah!)

 

 

poem- bird bouquet February 26, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:40 pm
Tags: , , , , ,

Usually too territorial to rest together,

twenty Red winged blackbirds,

tremble upon the tips.  

One bush, in early spring,

a yellow, red and black bird bouquet.

.

.

Such a strange sight as I was driving home from Vernon last weekend!  And hey!  Red winged blackbirds are the first sign of spring!  YAY!

 

 

poem-reading at the Cracked Pot February 22, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 6:53 pm
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

At The Cracked Pot

three crack pots,

(story pouring

word winders)

read.

Audience fights

coffee makers,

straining ears

to hear,

relaxes with smiles

at trials below amid the coal,

at parking problems,

at teen trouble.

The writers who read have only words

with which to weave a moment

to give a gift, to share

with those gracious ears

filling the chairs.

.

.

Allusion to The Cracked Pot Coffee Emporium in Vernon, which hosted writers Patricia Donahue, Howard Brown, and me this afternoon.  A packed house strained their ears, and it was a lovely time!

 

poem- blood February 5, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:22 pm
Tags: , , , , ,

She smells the metallic tang

iron

copper

inhales the essence

life

death

dreams the future

rock

paper

scissors

blood.

.