Shawn L. Bird

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

poem-taped December 17, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:25 pm
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Once upon a time

you sent me cassette tapes in the mail,

one sided conversations taped in the car

on your commute to the radio station,

elucidating the state of our universe

and illuminating that eternity

I was so fond of,

while people glanced from their vehicles,

confused or amused as you talked to yourself

but really me.

Once upon a time,

I talked to you,

but really myself,

elucidating the state of an imaginary universe

that would not become real,

no matter how many words wrapped around it,

or how many miles of magnetic tape professed it.

Once upon a time

we shared a fairy tale,

and when I listen to us now, I wonder that we ever believed

in the intensity of the narrative we told ourselves.


poem- #deadraccoonto September 9, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:22 pm
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In the Toronto dawn

the sun crept silently up to the

last mortal remains of the pudgy bandit,

laid out on the sidewalk like a sacrifice.

The call went out:

Three-one-one!  Three-one-one! Come!

The City promised swift removal of the corpse.

But–political promises being oft full of air–

the raccoon remains remained throughout the day.

Not content to leave sleeping Procyonidae lie

crowds marked the site of his demise,

memorial to the adorable, nocturnal beast

with flowers, photos, Tweets, and cards,

pseudo-grief growing with the day

while #deadraccoonto began to decay.

Until by the light of the moon (a raccoon’s party hour)

The City van came to gather the cadaver,

but left the flowers.



Embedded image permalink


This was a social media event in July .  The body of a raccoon was found and reported.  A spontaneous mock-memorial grew up around it.  It was all recorded on Twitter, with even a council member  (Norm Kelly) participating.  I think it makes a fascinating commentary of social media through parody.



A Hallowe’en story October 30, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:58 pm
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Time for the annual re-blog of my Hallowe’en poem… 😉 Have fun!

Shawn L. Bird


This is the time of year

They say the veil is thin.

The other side is closer

So fears well from within.


Harold was out driving

Along a country lane

The fog was rolling thickly

The moon was on the wane

A crash rang through the forest

As a tree fell on the road

Harold’s heart was pounding

He looked for an abode

There off in the distance

He saw a flickering light

He headed off toward it

While pushing down his fright

This is the time of year

They say the veil is thin

The other side is closer

So fear wells from within


The walk went on forever

Though it hadn’t seemed that far

Was the light moving also?

Soon he lost sight of his car.

A crunching noise behind him

Made him jump in fear

A huffling breath was panting

The thing was very…

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479 June 8, 2012

Filed under: Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 8:31 pm
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Pondering short story ideas and this patch of dialogue came to me.  I thought I’d write it down.  Not sure what I’ll do with it, if anything.  Where would you take it?


“I wouldn’t marry you if the flames of hell were devouring Aunt Ida’s apple tree, and copulation could save the human race, do you hear me Billy Killswell?  For the four hundredth time, the answer is no!”

I had meant it, too. I’d meant it the three hundred and ninety nine times previously, and the seventy-eight times after.   So what was I doing here in this damn white dress standing beside him?

Four hundred seventy nine is a charm, apparently.

Billy grinned over at me.

I snarled back.

His grin widened.

If I only I’d held out for four hundred and eighty.  Four-eighty is definitely a number full of secure denial.

Damn Billy Killswell.  Damn him from now ’til eternity.

“I told you I’d get you here, didn’t I?” Billy whispered.

“To hell with you, Billy.” I muttered back.

Pastor Griffith gave a little start, and looked down his bi-focals at me.  I scowled as he cleared his throat and motioned the congregation to sit down.  The congregation was half-blind Brody Turner and my cousin Lula, who were the designated witnesses to this farce.

“Dearly beloved…” Griff intoned solemnly.

“Stop!” bellowed a voice from the back, and all nine eyes in the church turned to stare at the door.


So you tell me, who’s at the door?  Leave a suggestion or two in the comment section below, and I’ll pick one and see where we go from there!


The narrative of the Grey Boot Quest January 29, 2012

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:45 am
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I stroll the mall, and check all routes

in search of perfect, tall, grey boots.

Store by store I search them all

On tidy shelves and crowded stalls.

I search the net in desperate state

At The Boots await!

The perfect shape.  The perfect heel.

The shade of grey, that’s dove not steel.

Alas, at five hundred bucks with tax,

My happy heart’s cleaved with an ax.

I check the site from time to time

To see if cost has dropped a dime.

But one sad day, the boots were gone

My face grew sad, my mouth was drawn.


The Grey Boot Quest began once more

Fruitless, I wandered store to store,

Til a clearance ad came to my in box

and now I can enfold my socks.

My Fluevog Logan boots, were on sale

A happy ending to the tale!

A single pair was in my size,

I quickly clicked, ready to BUY.

Soon from the store in Montreal

My boots will travel, pushed and hauled.

The first miracle was an end to the quest

The Second Miracle Logans are the best!

A week from now, or maybe two,

I’ll pose in those grey boots for you!




story: iloveross17 (chapter two) March 4, 2011

Filed under: narrative,Poetry,Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:18 am
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Previous chapters: one,

(Chapter two)

user name: suzieq@

password: iloveross18mos

change password: confused1

Status updates:

Bixby- oh yeah man!

Zara- wtf?

Lena- save me from my boredom!


Zara- R U OK?

SusieQ- Ya

Zara-What happened?

SusieQ- Still trying to figure that out, actually.

Zara- Do u think Ross saw you making out with Dave?

SusieQ- 😦

 and onto chapter three


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