Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- scratching January 23, 2019

Filed under: Poetry,Teaching — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:11 am
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Pens poised,

Paper rustling.

Begin.

Destiny scratched

into this exam.

Future doors open or close.

You can ruin your life!

.

Don’t stress.

Life is not a straight road.

If an exam slams a door,

wiggle through windows,

force up foundations,

drop down the chimney.

Destiny is carved in determination,

not scratched in this exam.

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poem- seen and not heard January 22, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:41 am
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Murmuring voices

racing around me, vacuum engine growl,

white noise.

Words without meaning.

Sound without sense.

There you are.

Your mouth moves,

but I can not hear you

anymore.

 

poem- profile then & now January 12, 2019

Filed under: Friendship,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:12 pm
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(for Nikki)

.

I see joy.

See how you have expanded

until you’re exploding with all

that you’d held tightly

contained, buttoned up?

I see confidence.

See how what was timid

and tentative

now twinkles with the knowing

that you are amazing?

I am so proud

of who you’ve made,

you.

 

poem- flash December 31, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:11 am
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Just like that

you were back.

A flash.

Years had disappeared.

Your hair glistened in the light of the theatre,

our laughter and the crunch of popcorn on the air.

A flash.

Grief seeped through me,

sucking me back to the day they said

you were gone.

.

.

RIP Lloyd. 1964-1997 No one is truly dead until they are not remembered any more.

 

poem- him December 14, 2018

Yes, there is laughter;

I see it sparkling in those eyes,

twinkling in the crevices of his face.

I see it dancing,

in those jaunty steps,

off-kilter, long-legged ramblings.

I see it in the shaking shoulders,

heaving joy, hard embraces.

There is laughter through that body,

whether we hear it

or not.

 

 

poem- drifting December 10, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:09 am
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Snow flakes drift by,

washing the world white.

Cold drips down my neck,

scarf scratching,

steps slipping,

breath billows in small clouds,

miniature factories.

Trudge through the flakes

filling the sky,

painting a picture of

a world wiped clean.

 

 

 

poem- light at the end of the tunnel December 5, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 5:50 pm
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There’s a spark in the darkness,

a pin point of light,

that might just mean,

day is right ahead.

Maybe.

 

 
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