Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- gang aft a-gley December 17, 2020

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:18 am
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

Those best laid plans

family coming from afar

creating traditions, warm hearts,

remembering those lost this year.

Everything is ready here, gifts piled up

waiting for wrapping.

Public health says stay home.

We must be lonely holiday islands.

There’s no time for parcels to arrive by the

assigned festive day

amid the mail delivery crisis.

No one to gather around our table.

So everything will be different.

We must make something new, a Zoom festivity?

Re-thinking that nativity when a stable had to do,

just like for the Holy Family, things don’t always go

according to

our best laid plans.

 

poem- like ducks December 7, 2020

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:58 pm
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

On the outside:

calm, controlled, confident.

Beneath the surface:

quivering, quaking, confused.

How many stress-based illnesses

tension fueled troubles

surface in our bodies and minds?

How hard do we fight

to carry on?

 

poem- pandemic life December 2, 2020

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:28 am
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

It is a wearisome year

Each new day weighs heavier

than yesterday.

 

Poem- choking December 1, 2020

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:12 am
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

Tonight amid the Christmas decorations

grief is hanging on our tree;

loss pummels

hopefulness.

Sadness hollows out my chest,

crushes my shoulders,

lodges in my throat.

Longing overwhelms.

There is no comfort

here, only more memories

of what is gone

who is gone

when is gone

where is gone.

Tonight is too much to bear,

so I’ll climb into bed and

trust tomorrow brings

solace and that much lauded

peace of the season.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

 

poem-shared November 27, 2020

It starts with a shoemaker:

distinctive shoes

loud shoes

not for hiding shoes.

It grows with friends:

shared shoe styles

shared eccentricity

shared creativity.

It rests in comfort:

not alone.

Celebrate unique soles

together.

.

.

.

My Nikki Knox collaborator, Nikolette, also a teacher, and I are feeling rather stressed these days as the second wave of the pandemic strikes with rising numbers in schools. We are consoling each other by wearing the same Fluevog shoes this week (we have several pairs in common). Though we are 800 km apart, we are in each other’s hearts and soles. 🙂

 

poem-the dog peeks out of the blankets November 26, 2020

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:20 am
Tags: , , , , , , ,

The alarm. Snooze hit five times.

The feet unsteady.

The eyes blur the room.

Shoulders ache.

Ankle twinge.

Tired. So tired.

A good day to stay inside.

Light a fire.

Bake something to take

pandemic weariness away,

But the mask is on

Happy face

the work day

awaits.

 

poem- Yay! It’s Friday! November 24, 2020

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:19 am
Tags: , , , , , , ,

First thought upon waking–

elation.

With consciousness–

crash.

Tuesday.

.

Pandemic tension

daily trauma

viral hide and seek

Trench warfare,

wearing us down.

Dreaming of weekend leave,

Before the return to mud.

 

poem-the dark side of the moon August 24, 2020

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:56 pm
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

too much new

tensions wrapping around psyches

tugging

we’re choking on the changes

fruitlessly fearful

waiting for someone to hear us

Relief.

A sensible plan

Workable ideas

Deep breath.

This might just work

 

Poem- Pandemic sestina May 5, 2020

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 6:37 pm
Tags: , , , , , , ,

These days are quiet time
Our hectic lives forced to slow
We breathe,
thankful for lungs that work,
content to wait
until it’s safe out there.
.
In some places, there
stands Death, taking its time,
poised with scythe, to wait
as heart beats slow.
The nurses do their work;
patients struggle to breathe.
.
Breathe
deeply. There.
It’s work.
Time
slows.
We wait.
.
The entire planet waits.
Even the wind breathes
in coughs and gasps. Fast.  Slow.
No more rushing here and there.
Clocks are useless. What is time?
Stay home.  Avoid work.
.
If you have savings and sick leave for your work,
you can afford to wait.
Money doesn’t equal time.
Some can afford to breathe
easy, but there
are folks who can’t afford to slow.
.
It’s hard being forced to slow
down, to re-think how we work,
to consider that there
comes peace in learning to wait,
in learning to breathe,
in resting for a time.
.
So slow down and wait.
Work on your breathing.
In time, freedom will be there.

.

.

A sestina is an old, French poetry form made up of 6 stanzas of sestets ending with a 3 line ‘envoi.’  Each stanza re-orders the end words of the first stanza (lexical repetition)  in a specific pattern.  

.

.

.

Ignore any ads set here by WordPress.

.

.

.

.

.

 

poem- In the world beyond my windows May 1, 2020

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:57 pm
Tags: , , , , , , ,

The White Crowned sparrows fill

the yard; they butt striped heads at

the feeders, but they sing for their supper.

The sky is brilliant blue,

clouds hover around the edges of my sight, fringing

the hills.

Mount Ida is still white-capped,

the fire-dead splinters bristle through

the snow line above

a carpet of spruce and fir.  Across

the street someone has left

a painted rock beside

the mailbox; we’ve all earned its

purple heart.

Bursting buds,

New green leaves on spring awakened

trees.

The House Finch in

the blue spruce announces his

new family, but warbles his warning,

No visitors allowed!

.

.

.

This is a list poem. Sometimes they are numbered, though this one isn’t, obviously.  🙂  I don’t think I’ve seen one with enjambment like I’ve used here, but hey, it’s my poem. What good is a poetic licence if you don’t take advantage?

.

.

.

.

.

(ignore any ads added by WordPress)

.

.

.

.

 

 
%d bloggers like this: