Shawn L. Bird

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

Incorrigible canine May 1, 2013

Filed under: Poetry,poodles — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:15 pm
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Hot water tap turned with a toe,

A fairy tale is unfolding

In my brain, page by page.

Dusty Dog is curled into a ball

Hubby snoring through the wall

A suspicious rustling

heard down the hall.

“OJ?  Are you getting into trouble?” I call

to my incorrigible canine,

plainly awoken from his nap on the couch.

He clicks nearer, ’til he’s

outside the bathroom door.

“Were you getting into something?” I ask softly.

Slow feet start to move away.

“You need to stay out of trouble. Go to your bed, OJ.”

I say in a firm whisper.

Click click

Two steps toward the living room.

“OJ.”

Pause.

“OJ.  That’s the wrong way.

Go to bed.”  Spoken so silently that

sleeping husband will not hear.

Oh, so, slowly OJ turns

And strolls, almost like it was his idea,

Into his room.

I hear him jump onto his bedroom futon.

Good bad dog.

I turn the page in my book,

and add more hot water with my toes.

Dusty sleeps the blessed sleep of the innocent

on his own bed towel, dreaming dog dreams.

Later, warmly water logged,

I investigate the disaster,

Dusty at my feet.

My purse on a chair, formerly zippered closed

Has been opened and disembowelled.

I pull out the camera to photograph

The scene of the crime.

OJ wanders down the hall,

hopeful.

He meets my eyes.

“OJ.  This is bad.” I tell him, shaking my head.

“Very bad.”

He looks at the floor.

“You need to be back in your room before I get angry with you.”

He soulfully studies me, sighs

then takes the circle route,

through the kitchen,

Back to his room.

Such a bad, good dog.

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DSCN0261

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That black/gold cloth bag is an organizer.  Each compartment is usually full of something- pens, makeup, business cards, shopping bags, keys, flashlight, notebook, etc.  so things can be transferred easily between purses.  The bag was a mess, the organizer as you see.

If you click on the Category POODLES >>> on the right>>> you can read more of OJ’s adventures.  He is an incorrigible counter surfer, and food scrounger.  He opens packages (he loves ziplock bags, even if there is nothing edible in them).  He likes to investigate my purse, whenever I am foolish enough to leave it within his reach.  After I yelled at him for eating through linings (on my brand new, expensive bag!) he has not once eaten through another lining, but carefully manipulates the zippers, sometimes a series of zippers, and occasionally buckles in order to explore.  I have no idea how.  Poodles are considered the second most intelligent dogs (second only to Border collies), and it’s because of their phenomenal problem solving abilities.  OJ plays dumb and lazy much of the time, but he has some amazing skills.  (I call these “bad talents” and there is a blog series about them.)

Do you have an incorrigible canine character at your house?

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Dusty Dog and the oh so innocent looking incorrigible OJ:

Dusty and OJ

Dusty and OJ

 

death to the follicles April 29, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 5:54 pm
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The glistening of sunlight upon the pate,

is not so much a follicular challenge

as it serves to demonstrate

a follicular abdication

as the hormones re-arrange

to prove the superior state

of follicular proration,

that razors duplicate.

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I casually mentioned a ‘follicular challenge’ to a man who responded that it wasn’t so much a challenge as an abdication, and thus, a poem was born… 😉  For what it’s worth, I highly endorse the natural state over wigs and surgeries.  Shine that pate with confidence, and damn the ads that prey on insecurities!

 

next part: stars April 27, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:48 am
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A prompt from http://julieisrael.wordpress.com/2013/04/27/write-the-next-line-using-the-word-part/  The first line is provided and the next line must include ‘part’ in some form.

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The hours erased the stars and day peeled apart from night

I sang the moon, and partial to your heart

You danced us dawn, partners tripping through the light.

 

like you April 26, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:20 pm
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I wrote letters to poets

Sandburg, Dickinson, Twain,

Shelley, Petrarca, Yeats or Keats,

it was always the same.

“Thank you for your words.

“I like what you  say.

“Your message was heard.”

Each time someone’d said

“You can’t send a note

for those poets are dead;

it’s been years since they wrote!”

.

On the blog roll are poets

who live and who breathe

and I can write them notes

and some encouragement leave.

“I like that you’re writing

“I like that you’re here

“I like that you’re sighting

on truths without fear.

“Thank you for your words.

“I like what you  say.

“Your message was heard;

I’ll be back here one day!”

 

baby giggles April 21, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:14 pm
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The gummy smile

stretches wide across the chubby cheeks

and the belly jiggles

when baby giggles.

 

Mothers’ tears April 20, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:36 pm
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Never,

ever,

make your

mother cry.

Never,

ever,

bring tears

to her eye.

Never,

ever,

force a

melancholy sigh

Never,

ever,

make her

sacrifices lie.

Never,

ever,

make your

mother cry.

Unless,

she’s blessed,

and tears are joy

wept dry.

 

Boston April 2013 April 17, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:26 pm
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Legs ache

mile after mile

hour after hour.

Grasp gasping.

Aim: medal.

Ahead: Finish

Smoke and

Noise

and

coloured paper falling

like ticker tape.

Metal.

Collapse  coughing

Pavement slick.

Legs ache.

 

Green land? April 16, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:54 pm
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Someday I want to go to Greenland

That fabled Viking Fantasyland

Eric assured all it’d be a nice land

though, it’s much icier than Iceland.

Someday I want to go to Greenland,

That rarely ever seen land.

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In the WordPress map of blog viewers, I have visitors from all over the world, but I have never had a visitor from Greenland, so I thought I’d write a little ditty about it.  Have you been to Greenland?  What is it like?

 

marathon haiku

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:49 pm
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A perfect steel sphere

lies in a scarlet pool ‘neath

the Finish banner.

 

crescent moon haiku April 14, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:54 am
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God has left a toe

 nail clipping on the best

blue velvet bedspread.