We know
what’s best
Make the right decisions
Know the right culture
Have the right religion
Use the right words
No one else is as good as we are
It’s all black and white
Except for all that grey,
and all those other
rights.
poem-outside April 29, 2021
(Napowrimo day 29 is about describing a scene out a window, but this morning I was standing in a doorway observing, so I’ll use that moment).
This morning outside my door,
cacophony of small birds
catcalling to the universe:
Oooh baby! Look at me!
Our place! Get away!
Twittering spring tumult
screeches and titters.
The world persists,
though you have ceased.
poem-flying February 8, 2018
Fleance dreams of flight,
soaring on outstretching wings
into a moonlit night,
No day trips for him, he’s heard things
about flying too near the sun.
Day is for escape, for climbing,
Peaks ascending, journeys begun,
At sunset (it’s all about the timing)
he leaps into red glowing,
falls on moon rise
spreads his wings, catches winds flowing
embraces skies,
Wonders at all he does espy
and murmurs “Fly, Good Fleance! Fly!”
poem- doublethink December 15, 2017
A modern Orwellian
metaphor,
you scientist
of faith.
You hold content within your mind
evolution;
creation.
Visible genetics of intersex
counted on chromosomes;
the old testament binary code.
You hold seven days;
dinosaurs.
Believe in hypotheses, blind studies.
Worship in blind faith.
See God in the Fibbonacci sequence,
fractals,
crystalline symmetries.
Hermetic hermeneutics:
Paradoxical predicament.
poem- there October 14, 2016
I’m crafting a world
and living in it.
You’re part of the narrative,
if only,
you were there.
poem-imprinting May 18, 2016
Unexpected art,
flipped, repeated.
The press
stamps images
unique to me.
poem-brisk March 15, 2016
My nostrils are bitten
by the brisk scent of pine,
invigorating, enervating in the rain.
I follow my nose
to two freshly felled stumps
and marvel that death can smell
so very much alive.
poem-going November 18, 2014
You’re going and now I think
of all the things that could have been
and all the things that should have been
and all the things that would have been
if only you’d been forthcoming
before you left.
Shawn L. Bird 