Shawn L. Bird

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

poem-the forecast made promises March 1, 2021

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:49 pm
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Balmy day

they said.

I shiver in my sweater, wondering

if the air in my classroom is actually warm.

Outside, clouds climb the mountain

I wish I were in front of a fire,

clutching a cup of cocoa,

wrapped in a blanket and your arms.

.

.

.

(Let’s hope spring will come soon. I am weary of winter weather).

 

poem- This Valentine’s heart February 18, 2021

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:30 pm
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Plugged.

Beats stop.

He drops.

Brain dies.

One heart broken

So many hearts grieve.

A Valentine’s Day massacre of our joy.

.

.

RIP Rob

 

poem- they’ve installed the frosted glass February 10, 2021

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:06 pm
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barriers to the outside

secrets

distance

privacy

safety

at a cost of claustrophobia

these walls close in

while we huddle

masking our smiles

nervous

hidden thoughts.

 

poem-i don’t want to write a poem January 13, 2021

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:52 pm
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Another demo pantoum poem written with my Creative Writing students today. This one demonstrates the power of this form, as small shifts can alter or intensify meaning. The kids weren’t in the mood to write at the beginning, but by the second stanza they were laughing and engaged as we looked for rhymes that worked.

I don’t want to write a poem today
I’m too tired to use my brain
The thought fills me with dismay
Poems make me insane

I’m too tired to use my brain
My mind is feeling foggy
Poems make me insane
My eyes are getting soggy

My mind is feeling foggy
Can I just return to bed?
My eyes are getting soggy
My heart is filled with dread

I’ll just return to bed
I’m much too tired to think
My heart is filled with dread
My life is on the brink

I’m much too tired to think
If my feelings are uncaged
My life is on the brink
The words won’t fill the page

When my feelings are uncaged
all the thoughts bring me dismay
Words will over-fill the page
I can’t write a poem today

 

poem-After the fatal accident January 11, 2021

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:13 pm
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There is your name

on the attendance list.

Absent: excused

Parents called in.

 

poem- insurrection day January 6, 2021

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:53 pm
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Today my class is learning about the PANTOUM poetry form, while in the US, protesters have broken into congress amid riots, so here’s our demo pantoum.

Throw me a line
What’s going on?
I need a sign
Sanity’s gone

What’s going on?
There’s all this shouting
Sanity’s gone
The laws they’re flouting

There’s all this shouting
Is there any hope?
The laws they’re flouting
This filth needs some soap

Is there any hope?
My heart is afraid
This filth needs some soap
A nation’s betrayed

My heart is afraid.
Will the people declare
Their nation’s betrayed?
Does anyone care?

Will the people declare
this is the sign?
Will anyone care
to throw us a line?

 

poem-becoming January 1, 2021

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:18 am
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creating ourselves means choosing

if I want to be a person whose home is full of original art

I must begin by buying supporting artists

if I want to be a person who is confident enough to wear red lipstick

I must put the lipstick on my lips.

If I want to be a person who dances in the rain

I must head outside during the storm.

Whatever I desire

I must dare.

 

poem-traditionalists December 18, 2020

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:19 pm
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Someone has to care enough

to do the grunt work.

Haul up the tree

Heave. Grunt.

Whip up the shortbread.

Beat. Grunt.

Dig out the toboggans, drive to the hill.

Wheeee! Grunt.

Cook the turkey. Shop. Wrap the presents.

Grunt

Grunt

Grunt.

Some years the off-stage magicians are silent,

but this year you can hear us

grunt.

 

poem- gang aft a-gley December 17, 2020

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:18 am
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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-it must have snowed December 15, 2020

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:07 am
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I am awoken (What now?!)

by roaring outside

rasping, growling, rushing creature.

Oh, damn, I think, as I return to sleep.

The plow.

 

 
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