Shawn L. Bird

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

poem: The Game April 16, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:33 pm
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He serves: I’m working late

She returns: Sounds good. I think I’ll go out, myself

He lobs: Who are you going with?

She returns: Why does it matter?

He stretches, just manages: You might be in an accident.  I should know where to look.

She returns to the far corner: So I can stop into the office and see you this evening?

He turns too slowly, can’t reach far enough: Uh.

Zero love.

 

#NaPoWriMo prompt 16 about a game.

(Still writing poems that connect with my current novel writing project)

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poem- breaking March 9, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:49 pm
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For Danielle, with love

.

Breaking heart

Taking future

Making mockery

I doubt the happy start,

wrapped in a painful ending,

rending all I believed,

feeling deceived

by the life we’d conceived.

Paths onward wending,

sending me,

setting me free.

Taking me,

creating me,

letting me

be,

Breaking past,

Taking a stance,

Making me dance.

 

 

 

 

 

poem-present February 18, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:33 pm
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A present for her

that’s really for him.

A present for him

that’s really for her.

Who needs a gift, really?

Presence is enough.

 

poem-steps November 6, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:37 am
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Three steps ahead

he strides forward,

in a rush,

as usual,

to get nowhere,

quickly.

He trails her behind him,

a fuming

sputter

of irritation,

gathering pressure,

ready to explode.

 

 

poem- pathways October 8, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:51 pm
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This is our path

We walk step in step

We’re heading in the same direction

Around us, the seasons change,

friends leave us with only memories,

reminding us that these days are precious

our hands are clasped together,

trusting in our

future.

 

poem-contemplating September 25, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:59 am
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I’m wondering

about the tension between your eyes.

Those two deep, etched furrows

creased vertically above your nose

that appear when you smile

that tight lipped smile

below eyes that do not laugh.

You say,

you can’t help the furrows;

they happen every time,

and yet

look:

in the moments when your mouth is agape,

grinning widely,

when laughter is visible,

erupting from your face

see

the furrows are absent.

I wonder,

why you hold yourself back from laughter,

why your eyes show only tension,

that you plough into your forehead,

when you could be planting joy.

I wonder

what hurts.

I wonder

whether I can guide you back

to joy.

 

poem-point of view May 5, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:39 am
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So often

what I think is a conversation about me

you think is a conversation about you.

My feelings

aren’t just feelings, they’re an attack.

But they’re not.

They belong to me

and they’re allowed to be

what they are.

I long for you to acknowledge

how I feel

what I wonder

what I want

isolated from your sense

of inadequacy.

I’m tired

tired

tired of your issue

always overshadowing

any of my concerns.

Mental illness

is annoyingly

narcissistic.

Please consider other points of view.

It isn’t always about you.

Really.

Sometimes it’s about me.

 

 
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