Shawn L. Bird

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

poem-between the lines March 16, 2015

Honey,

quit hunting between the lines

for secret messages!

The pondering that ravages your mind

is funny.

Sometimes a like is just a like,

it’s not a matter of spite

a declaration of might,

suggestion you’re right,

it’s just a like.

‘Nice words.  I heard them.’

‘Well phrased.  This stays with me.’

‘You posted.  Yay!’

Quit running with the attitude

that everything’s about you.

Relax.  Let live.  Don’t stress.

I don’t care if you’re wearing pants or dress.

If you look like Hans but feel like Sue.

I’m not gunning after you!

Do what you want to do.

But don’t read between my lines

and imagine that in my rhymes

I’m referring to you.

(Though this one time,

it’s true,

I do).

.

.

(Sometimes I get weird email.  I should just ignore it, but sometimes it’s inspiring.  What can I say?)

 

poem-pi sigh March 14, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:23 pm
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This morning

3.14 15 at 9:26.53

I waited breathlessly

for Math Gods to bestow

great knowing.

I waited for glowing in the sky

as the moment equaled  ten digits of pi.

But no.

No math enlightenment from on high.

Sigh.

 

 

 

poem-curve March 13, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:07 pm
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In the bedroom mirror

curves swerve

from shoulder to ankle

arcing circle

fertility curling her.

In the rearview mirror

an undulating landscape

curves swerve

from hills to plain,

clouds bubbling

with the fertile promise of rain.

 

poem- really? March 9, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:34 pm
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I thought I knew

what was coming next,

but all I know

is nothing is what I expect.

.

.

⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓

  www.shawnbird.com/poetic-diversity-project

Please consider sharing a poem or a link on the theme of SHARING SPACE and helping me with my grad school course!

 

poem-costume construction February 28, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:26 pm
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2X2tutu

They’re hiding out at Huyter’s House

amid tutus and two by twos.

Keren constructs costumes and walls

Her production can not stall

(though reproduction’s done, y’all).

Garage transformed to costume shop

Gladly reformed for custom stops.

Accost tutus and two by twos,

Keren will hand a hammer to you!

.

.

.

(For my amazing friend Keren, of Huyter’s House of Costumes, because the dance studio productions don’t really care whether the new sewing room is finished or not!)  🙂

 

poem for Jack February 13, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 6:49 pm
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This poem was sent to me by my father-in-law, following the notice about Dusty’s euthanasia today.  It’s so lovely I thought I’d share it with you.  The author, Christopher Tatchell Winter, was my husband’s 2X great grandfather.  I will check, but I believe it would have been written around 1900. (Ignore the way WordPress mangled the spacing in the first stanza).

.

.

Dear, dear little Jack, my companion & friend

Few now are my years, soon cometh the end

And I thought to have had you until I depart
But no more will I lessen the pain of my heart

My dear little dog, so faithful & true
I never shall know another like you
Much that passes for love may be but a cheat
But your love was constant & full & complete

No more will you meet me & run half a mile
To leap in my arms & my sorrow beguile
If but for a moment it then would depart
And sunshine & gladness would enter my heart

Oh, dear little Jack, I call you in vain
But why should I sorrow, why should I complain
It can’t bring you back, I know that is true
And yet all the same I will sorrow for you

And now at my door, you rest in your grave
And over it many a flower shall wave
In winter the snow on it softly shall fall
But no more will you answer & come to my call

.

The sketch of a Winter dog, presumably Jack:

Winter's dog

 

poem-flames February 7, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:52 pm
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She’s caught between the flames

of inferno and ice

Accusations of blame,

of who’s not playing nice.

She’s caught between the fury

of defeat and aggression,

For neither is sorry

and all leads to depression.

She’s caught between love

crushed between hate

a magician’s dove

that is stuffed then must wait.

She’s caught between threads

stuffed up their sleeves

’til she’s dangling her head

beneath the nearest trees.

 

 

poem- canine scheming January 29, 2015

Filed under: Poetry,poodles — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:10 pm
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In the hallway

between kitchen and bedrooms

the chef knife catches the light.

Which poodle is plotting

nefarious exploits?

Should we be locking

bedroom doors at night?

 

poem-flipped January 23, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:35 pm
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You need a silent rest

and I need recumbency.

I find a peaceful place,

I recline and read and write

throughout the night,

come to bed at dawn

to greet you as you rise.

But office workers

call at nine, nine thirty, ten

and so with blurry eyes I

pretend lucidity,

then fall back to sleep

until you return at two.

My head and ankle

have schedules

out of sync with offices,

though I’m in tuneful counterpoint

with you.

 

 

 

poem- itch January 22, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:39 pm
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I twitch and twitch

and still these stitches itch.

Beneath the cast are plainly massed

all itches of the world

I can not scratch beneath the cast

and so must twitch

and dream of when the itch is fixed.