Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- Worshipping anger April 15, 2019

Your pain bursts out the barrel of a gun

punches holes through community

explodes small town security.

Neutrality’s a liar.

And in world news:

Notre-Dame Cathedral is on fire.

.

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My own photo, detail around the main entrance of Notre-Dame. Paris, 2011.

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My own photo. Notre-Dame tower details. Paris. 2010

 

A poem should stand on its own merits, but I feel like a bit of clarification this time.  There was a shooting in my small, Canadian town yesterday.  Two people were shot in their church; one died. Our community has been reeling from this shock, and now another tragedy.  The loss of life. The loss of a building.  Can you compare the two?

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Tangled April 2, 2019

Filed under: Poetry,Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:09 am
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Be tangled in the words.

Weave yourself ability.

Knit a world.

Unravel negativity.

Crochet characters uncurled

Stitch together possibilities.

Wind yourself in words.

 

 

poem-falling November 21, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:52 pm
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Snow is falling by the window:

down,

slanted,

sideways,

sparsely,

heavily,

quickly,

slowly.

Everything is possible;

you don’t need to know.

Just rest at the window,

watch the snow.

 

 

poem-caveat emptor November 17, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 8:45 pm
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Let no further discussion

mar your sense of certainty.

Let no logic stir irrationality,

challenge responsibility,

force mutability.

Enough!

Sine pace.

Fix this!

 

poem-wandering August 7, 2018

It is

It isn’t

Round and round

I can!

I can’t!

You do

You don’t

and trying

trying

trying

doesn’t make it easier

to pull your broken brain away

from turbulance

I don’t know you anymore

I don’t like you anymore

Loyalty keeps me doing

because I promised him

and you can’t help being broken

I know.

It is

It isn’t

Time ticks by

I try

I try

I try.

 

poem-ka-ching July 21, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:12 pm
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Ka-ching

She rings a bell, sings to tell

the world.

Ka-ching

He rings the knell, swings to tell

a world swirled in garnet garlands

Ka-ching

Fling things!

Ka-ching

Flash bling!

Ka-ching

Ring, ring, ring

Sing, sing, sing

Ring, ring, ring

Swing, swing, swing

Ka-ching

Ka-ching

Ka-ching.

 

poem-espresso June 27, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:30 pm
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I express myself

in languid liquid

tiny cup

great potential

rocket fueled fuming

consuming conflagration

fire eater me

Oh you

sip seductively

out of reach

but teach me

no one needs to see me

for you’re devouring words

making a meal of my brain burst

You don’t see me

but you feel me,

say the tears dripping down your cheeks.

I wield a mighty weapon,

anonymously.

 

 
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