Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- peacock poets June 7, 2014

Filed under: Poetry,Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:16 am
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She writes in peacock blue ink

Turquoise words like an  equatorial sea–

exotic and dramatic–

vivid colour for vivid dreams,

beyond pedantic black or

boring blue

so dark it’s a black wannabe.

In gatherings of youthful poets

peacock ink predominates.

While pedants declare it’s

a colour coded affectation,

peacock poets know

ink encapsulating sky and sea

makes mere words ethereal–

their metaphor of fundamental creativity.

 

 

poem- flash and substance among sparrows and peacocks August 5, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:09 pm
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The sparrows are insulted

by the peacock’s brilliant tail,

Yet a peacock can not change itself

and sparrows are just dull.

Sparrows sing a gentle song

Peacocks bray loudly when they call

If sparrows are affronted, t’is

not the peacocks’ fault at all.

So if sparrows are insulted

they’ll find their own dull space

while peacocks enjoy themselves

with other bright, loud mates!

.

Sparrows are insulted by

the crows’ great intellect

When problems need resolving

sparrows just don’t get it.

While sparrows stew in vapid pools

the crows make out a plan;

they analyse, they study,

they get in that garbage can!

Sure sparrows will gang up

and drive a crow away

but the crow will just think harder

and devour them the next day.

.

Those sparrows are a feisty lot

though they lack imagination.

Peacocks and crows are the impressive

ornithological creations!

.

.

My father-in-law, a former biology professor and an award winning naturalist, kept a sparrow trap in his farm yard when he retired from U of C.  He considered sparrows an over populace species that stole the nesting boxes of the desirable more endangered species that he was trying to encourage- i.e. Purple martins, Western blue birds, Goldfinches, and the like.  I often wondered what the poor, dull little birds thought as they hopped around in the trap (which was a good size- about 5′ cube) waiting to be gassed.  (Humane deaths, all).  I often wondered what they thought of the more ‘exotic’ species that were able to explore his yard with impunity on the other side of their sparrow concentration camp.  What would they have made of the peacocks our friends keep, do you think?   The crows would come by the trap and try to figure out how to get in and have some sparrow dinner, but the opening was too small.  I’m sure the sparrows felt safe, but they were still the ones who were gassed in the end!  (Poor sweet little birds)

 

 
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