Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- roiling April 4, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:27 am
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My stomach is a stormy ocean

and I am an ocean liner,

furniture sliding left and right,

uncomfortably.

Captain stands firmly at the helm,

looking forward,

aiming for calm,

hoping the ship

does not betray his confidence.

 

poem- deep December 12, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:44 am
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I’ve fallen into a fog

that fills my head with cotton

and adds sandpaper to my throat.

Bed sounds like such a good idea,

but work requires my presence.

Mentally, I’m home, buried under quilts.

Physically, I supervise workers,

who all wish they were home in bed.

We may lack spirit for spirit week;

but today is pajama day.

How apropos.

 

poem- swimming December 11, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:33 pm
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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
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Congested nose

a sniff, a sneeze

and then a cough.

Pass a tissue, please?

 

poem- sick February 11, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 8:43 pm
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Snuffling with fuzzy head,

her frigid feet

in search of heat,

she creeps, shivering between the sheets.

Piled high with fill from sheep and geese

duvets do not suffice to thaw her feet of ice.

As her teeth tremble a timpanic tintannabulation

of unsympathetic vibrations

She seeks cessation of sensation

in the oblivion of sleep.

 

poem- alone February 7, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:18 pm
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Alone

in the spare bed

preserving the sleep

of the regular bed mate

thankful for the heat of

canine companions

who don’t complain

when I cough.

 

 

poem-who knew? February 3, 2014

Who knew

when love first entangled

that rapture yields both

blessing and anguish?

Anticipated joy

dashed by disability,

disease, dread,

death.

Watching beloved baby

suffer

and the love that begat

all the suffering

lies so tangled

in anguish

that it’s difficult to

find it at all.

 

ouch April 26, 2013

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:59 am
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head in vice

waves of fire engulf me,

then ebb, and I’m left drenched

boiling in my skin

head in vice

.

.

I’m home sick today.  This is why.  😦  These debilitating waves have been coming all morning.  It’s horrible.  I was in bed until noon, when the need for pain killer forced me to move.  It is not pretty.  I hope you’re having a much better day!

 

sick January 13, 2012

Filed under: Commentary — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:55 pm
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I have been sick this week. It seemed at times as if my skin had been removed, pummelled with a tenderizing mallet, then wrapped back over my bones, mashed into place with a good whack to my lower back..

I am very much looking forward to a return to health, which I hope happens very soon.

Very.
Soon.

 

 
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