This silence is a circle.
Mine says,
“wrap me with warm words!”
Yours says,
“huh?”
So silence encircles,
Mine says,
“compassion is in companionship.”
Yours says,
“shh.”
Silence circles.
her with him July 27, 2012
It’s not truth,
but danger.
Not what is real,
but what’s perceived.
The excluding
exclamations
of laughter
contrasted by
bored eye brows
and sighs.
An amused knife
slicing through
her security.
© Shawn L. Bird
————————————————–
Being a free verse, there is no strict rhyme or rhythm pattern in this one, but you’ll see lots of examples here of consonance, assonance, and alliteration. Notice in particular the pattern of growling of the /r/s, the explosive /ex/s and the sighing /s/s which reflect the narrative persona’s emotional experience.
There is a circle pattern with the 6 sections (not quite stanzas, not being separated) being strongly consonant /r/, then assonant /e/, then alliterative /ex/, and then reversing: alliterative /b/, assonant /i/, and finally consonant /r/ again. How does this pattern reflect the persona’s emotional state?
You are welcome to use this poem in your class room, crediting the author. I’d also be pleased to see a comment indicating where and when you did. Thanks.
Shall I compare thee July 4, 2012
I know. School is over the year. But still, when you come across something this great, you just have to share. 🙂 The referenced poem is at the bottom, just in case you wanted it.
.
SONNET 18. William Shakespeare
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to Time thou grow'st.
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
The value of poets June 21, 2012
Discovered this great quote on the blog “Greater Umbrage”
“You see, in the beginning was the Word. And the Word was made flesh in the weave of the human universe. And only the poet can expand this universe, finding shortcuts to new realities the way the Hawking drive tunnels under the barriers of Einsteinian space/time… To be a true poet is to become God.”
~ Dan Simmons
Wow. It makes me feel crazily powerful! How daunting. How magnificent. How humbling!
Invocation for dads June 16, 2012
Our fathers are our first role models of what it is to be a man.
If we are blessed to have a good one driving our household mini van.
He shows us how a romantic partner should behave;
He demonstrates just how our children should be raised.
He shows us this without a word, by what he does each day,
So we’ll reflect his teaching as we go on about our way.
If we weren’t blessed to have our father there to show us what to do,
Let us be thankful there are men, who’ll gather us in, too.
In thanks for each man, standing by his family,
Who cares, provides, corrects and loves, from those of us who see.
.
© Shawn L. Bird 2012 Free use within Rotary, though please indicate when and where you have used the invocation by leaving a comment below. Thanks!
inspire haiku May 15, 2012
Inspire means ‘on breath.’
Let your words be in your breath.
Breathe inspiration.
promise April 21, 2012
Sometimes you capture the most lovely phrases in conversations around you, and they beg to be put into a poem…
.
You are the promise I made to myself,
A gift worth the challenges faced.
You are the promise I dream in faith,
A gift worth the challenges raced.
You are the promise I made to myself.
.
I will fulfil your specific yearning,
A gift of my heart and my time.
I will fulfil the goals unfurling,
A gift of my love and my rhyme.
I will fulfil your specific yearning.
.
You are the promise I made to myself.
the truth about motherhood April 14, 2012
At the moment, I’m thinking about The Cat Years…
.
Giving birth
to all the dreams
of a future,
a blessing
longed for,
imagined
named
years—
decades—
before.
Happiness
held tightly
and blinking brown eyes
sleepily from a blanket
tightly wrapped into
a cocoon of possibility.
.
Walking away,
snarling and critical,
bored and irritated,
cynical.
Mocking talents,
unappreciative of
sacrifices made,
opportunities given.
.
Kindnesses
rebuffed,
communication
ignored,
considerations
declined.
.
Mocking the dreams
and the sweet scent of
hope that lingered
in the folds of
new skin
wrapped tightly
with what we thought
was happiness.
.
Possibility is a
far more pleasant
contemplation
than reality.
Shawn L. Bird 