Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- like ducks December 7, 2020

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:58 pm
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On the outside:

calm, controlled, confident.

Beneath the surface:

quivering, quaking, confused.

How many stress-based illnesses

tension fueled troubles

surface in our bodies and minds?

How hard do we fight

to carry on?


poem-fluff November 16, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 5:07 pm
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Tight black ball

warm, curled against my hip

tail twitching in dreams.

Serious affection or just fluff?

It’s all the same to me.


poem- warrior woman September 30, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:49 pm
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stands, raised hand

answer every question

to bring justice to a depraved land.

Warrior stands

warning of the beast eager to devour.

tells how it mauled,

and it whines, growls, evades


The beast does not know it is a beast,

but the warrior knows.

The warrior warns.

As the beast prowls and pretends

to be a kitten, a puppy, an innocent thing.

The warrior knows.

The warriors know.

Are you listening?

Or will you open doors and invite it

to devour you?



poem- prep July 14, 2018

Beneath a cloudless blue sky

I feel the storm coming,

black clouds gathering.

Could they reflect black shirts?

I ponder,


if I should be building false walls

to hide those who will be escaping tyranny.

I wonder,

if I am far enough from a border to avoid


A century ago,

they didn’t understand the signs,

but now we do.

Those who read are the first removed

when the evil rises.

Do all those kids who demanded,

“Why do we have to learn this?”

remember that their teachers said,

“So you’ll see the signs.”

“So it will never happen again.”

“Remember, they elected Hitler;

“they heiled and fell for his lies,

“because they wanted to believe their superiority,

“wanted a scapegoat for their troubles.”

There can be no excuses.

Shall I buy bricks or drywall?

Where will I construct false bottoms?

Where will we hide in the resulting rubble,

when the jack boots stomp through?

Another cristelnacht, this time in New York?

The hammock swings its consolation:

It can’t happen here.

It won’t happen here.

How many said those words a century


How many grew to knowing the meaning

of fear?


poem- sit April 3, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:40 am
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Isn’t it

lovely to just sit

some days

and watch the world go by,

just spying and rumination

without any kind of expectation.

Isn’t it

lovely to sit

for just a little bit.


rhetorical poem- often January 15, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:13 pm
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How often

does our prayer to

accept the things that cannot change

become an excuse for complacency?

How often

do we turn away from the possible

just because it’s difficult?

How often

to we tell ourselves ‘it’s always been’

and fail to see that something else could be?

How often

do we rail against those

who gentle encourage change when

they demonstrate another way?

How often

do we shout our certainty

when we should listen and see

wider horizons of possibility?




poem- again December 8, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:09 pm
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The never ending circle

of expectation raised

no effort was applied

of failure achieved

makes me want to scream.

What makes the difference

between students who give up

and those who persevere

to find success?

Perhaps it’s in their mantras:

I don’t care


I care.

Those who say they don’t care, do,

but they simply don’t believe

they can.


poem-odd August 27, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:14 pm
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I remember the Christmas

she gave me

a set of hotel toiletries

from her vacation to Portugal.

Gold embossed tiny burgundy bottles




and an elegantly packaged

shower cap.

Should we have known

there was something

wrong with her



poem- cleaning August 11, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:56 pm
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So many bottles

in gift baskets:

body shampoo


bath oil

bubble bath

body scrub

Why do all these people think I need

so much help to get clean?



(cleaning out the bathroom cupboards today)



poem-choosing March 31, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:28 pm
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Will I choose you?

Or you?

Or will I choose at all?

Am I ready for this work

of nurturing potential?

My world is wound tightly

with possibility,

fighting emotionality with



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