Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- creak December 14, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:52 am
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Creak

Cracks

Broken

Backs

Strung on a rack

Creaking wheel

pulls spine taut

Entreats,

“Sweet mercy!”

Greets pain

Back

broken

cracks

creak.

 

poem-mercy August 23, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:55 pm
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Mercy!

arm twisting brother menacing.

Mercy!

sexually charged boyfriend pressuring.

Mercy!

power hungry supervisor pushing.

Mercy!

posturing presidents endangering.

Mercy!

infuriated people demanding.

 

 

poem-old dog February 4, 2015

Filed under: Poetry,poodles — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:31 pm
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You groan in your bed

shifting to find a comfortable spot.

You struggle to rise on those

sore back legs.

You fall over avoiding

chair legs.

You ignore your dinner

as if eating is too much effort.

You don’t hear people when

they come to the door.

You go out to toilet,

but poop as you come in.

You strain to see me

through clouded eyes.

But you wag your tail

when you recognise me

and bring me a toy to tug.

You follow me whenever I move,

just wanting to be with me.

You make me stare down

hard decisions.

dear old dog.

.

.

.

2015 is not my favourite year.  

Dusty Dog’s 17th birthday is in August, but I don’t think he’s going to see it.

 

poem- That was all December 21, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:43 am
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When she reached

and found

That was all

there was.

When she stretched

and discovered

That was all

she was

When she trusted

and loved

That was all

you were

 

poem-ache November 6, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 6:34 pm
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There

in the span

across the back

your agony rests.

There

in the flesh

of your arms

your pain sits.

There

in the curve

of your neck

your anger abides.

There

in the well

of your heart

your recovery dreams.

 

poem- talking April 16, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:38 am
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Number one

occupational

health hazard for

flight attendants

is falling

during turbulance,

for hair stylists:

hair slivers,

for  teachers

it’s vocal damage.

Today,

my throat concurs

and longs for Ricola

and honeyed tea.

Today,

teaching hurts.

 

 

 
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