Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- shouting trauma September 13, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:00 pm
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Teresa hated her hair-cut

Wore her hat in class.

Held it tightly when the boys wanted to see

What could possibly be so bad.

Ran home in tears.

The next day,

the hat was off, and no one could figure out

what had bothered her so much.

Her hair looked fine.

She just had to get used to the idea of change.

How often are we afraid of something new,

even when it’s innocuous or perhaps

even better than what was?

Half a century I’ve pondered Teresa’s hair.

I still don’t understand,

what she didn’t like.

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poem- not conservative, just not living August 29, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 8:19 pm
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Outside the change room,

she looked into the mirror.

Lovely,

polished,

dynamic,

and classy

in the pale blue duster jacket.

Perfectly suited her colouring.

Stunning.

“I love this,” she sighs.

“I love these on other people.  I just know that I would never wear it.”

I am aghast. “You could wear it to the grocery store!”  She could wear it anywhere.

But no.  She left in an orange dress,  that made her complexion blotchy.

I have no business being sad, that she put away a pale, blue jacket, that suited her,

because of fears I’m imagining for her.

“Do you imagine I’m conservative?” she asks.

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” I shrug.

But she looked damn fantastic in that blue duster jacket.

 

poem- light July 11, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 6:16 am
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Your smile has no illumination,

no dancing twinkle draws the eyes.

What lies will you tell today, when someone

asks if everything is okay?

 

poem- later July 10, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:22 pm
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I expected

in my youth

a natural ending.

You railed against presumption.

Never!

Always!

Hyperbole spun us out,

Now our orbits can’t intersect.

I was okay with that,

until I wasn’t.

We’re not supposed to break promises,

even irrelevant ones.

Curse nostalgia.

 

poem-road June 23, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:18 am
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Win win you think

and she knows your thoughts,

that you don’t imagine

hers differ.

They do.

She wants you, coming and going.

Sit beside for both parts of the journey,

find moments of connection

have those conversations

that are skipped in the day to day.

Those too rare times when you’re together

with nothing to do but hear each other.

She wants words and laughter and plans.

You leave early.  A note on the counter:

meet you there.

She puts her foot on the gas pedal

and travels lonely,

as usual.

Win?

or lose?

 

 

Poem-Plumbing Depths June 14, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:24 pm
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This well is dank and dark,

Though they have promised from the depths

She will see stars,

so far, it’s darkness all around.

She only feels

a giant on her chest squeezing

joy, until tears squish dripping out.

She’ll fill this well with grief;

the only escape may be

floating on surface sorrow

until it floods over the wall

with all the sadness she can carry.

 

poem-preservation June 10, 2019

We need to be respectful

of tender psyches, mental illness,

all the agonies of existence.

We need to be respectful

of our own tenderness

and pained existence.

When being gentle of their tender troubles,

makes aches worse for ourselves,

who needs to respect whom?

Draw battle lines,

or at least find a bastion

against cries

calling you to your destruction,

dragging you to drown in the moat of their fragility.

Be respectful of your own precious sanity.

 

 
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