Shawn L. Bird

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

poem-fakery December 19, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:31 pm
Tags: , , , , , ,

We’ve decorated the artificial tree

The fire crackles on the TV

Holiday cards show everyone happy

People gather smiling gleefully

to celebrate festivities

and it all feels like fakery.

.

If this is meant to be

a season all about peace,

then let me sit here quietly

alone but for fictional company

the only sound, fire crackling,

and I will celebrate contentedly,

avoiding family and all their expectation of responsibility.

.

.

I am an extrovert and I generally love being out with people, but when I’m under a lot of stress, all I want to do is sit in heated comfort by myself, and spend time in the company of book friends.  All the obligatory holiday hoopla just makes me grumpy and anti-social, particularly with my dad passing away this summer and my mother suffering a serious stroke a couple of weeks ago.  

 

 

poem- deluded December 18, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:42 pm
Tags: , , , , ,

Hallucinations

Delusions

and we argue or agree,

Placate or debate,

against the injury in your brain

against frustration and pain

Face the inevitable

and wonder if you’re able

to see the irrevocable

ruination.

 

poem-taped December 17, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:25 pm
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

Once upon a time

you sent me cassette tapes in the mail,

one sided conversations taped in the car

on your commute to the radio station,

elucidating the state of our universe

and illuminating that eternity

I was so fond of,

while people glanced from their vehicles,

confused or amused as you talked to yourself

but really me.

Once upon a time,

I talked to you,

but really myself,

elucidating the state of an imaginary universe

that would not become real,

no matter how many words wrapped around it,

or how many miles of magnetic tape professed it.

Once upon a time

we shared a fairy tale,

and when I listen to us now, I wonder that we ever believed

in the intensity of the narrative we told ourselves.

 

poem-Christmas train December 16, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 8:38 pm
Tags: , ,

From coast to coast the train rolls

Bright, coloured Christmas lights,

stopping town to town.

The doors pull back and musicians play.

Portable concerts for the holiday.

.

.

Here’s a link to a photo of the train.

 

 

 

poem-old dog December 15, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:45 pm
Tags: , ,

Old dog

curled on a cushion

foggy eyes still adoring

tail still wagging

slow to rise, feet creak,

aging devotion.

 

poem-hack December 14, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:45 pm
Tags: , , ,

I’m tired of this hacking cough

I wish these bugs would bugger off.

It’s hard to breathe; I’m prone to sneeze.

I wish this cough would stop!

 

poem-hoarse December 12, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:49 pm
Tags: , ,

If you want me,

I am but a small and raspy thing.

Leave me quiet,

cover me with honeyed warmth;

Let me have your soothing words,

fluid kindnesses,

wrap me up in love.

 

poem- swimming December 11, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:33 pm
Tags: , , , , ,

Our bodies are mostly water

and my head is swimming as I lie.

Consciousness swirling in eddies,

I’m drowning in myself.

 

poem-sniffle December 10, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:57 pm
Tags: , , , ,

Congested nose

a sniff, a sneeze

and then a cough.

Pass a tissue, please?

 

poem- bangles December 9, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:05 pm
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

When you gave me these bangles,

(artisan made, grown-up gift for the babysitter)

you oozed confidence, security, achievement.

In your warm brown house with its plush carpet, modern art,

and dishes spun on a pottery wheel,

you were cozy cool, the perfect mom in the perfect family:

professional husband, professional mom, two cute kids.

You had it all together.

But everything dissolved,

first family to divorce,

then your mind to madness,

finally your body to cancer.

Now you are dust, and the memory of you chimes

on my wrist in tarnished bronze and copper bangles,

and jingles, “Celebrate now, for who know what the future brings?”