Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- Sibling Rivalry October 29, 2020

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:14 am
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,
The air was crisp
The sky was damp
My brother hissed
Under the lamp
 
The sky was damp
My sister screamed
Under the lamp
Its powerful beams
 
My sister screamed
The monster’s eyes
Its powerful beams
Her soul it fries
 
The monster’s eyes
The horror grows
Her soul it fries
Its hot breath blows
 
The horror grows
More monsters lurk
Its hot breath blows
My brother smirks
 
More monsters lurk
My brother hissed
My brother smirks
The air was crisp

This was a demo pantoum written with my class today when they were introduced to the form. It took an unexpected turn! 🙂

If you scroll to the bottom, WordPress will probably link to a couple of other pantoums written with my classes in previous years. They are entertaining.

.

.

(ignore any WordPress ads here)

.

.

.

 

poem- wasted day October 2, 2014

On this day

I remember a ghost anniversary,

the day in 1976

when my sister was married.

My 12 year old figure was

encased in my mother’s girdle

beneath a hideous rust bridesmaid gown.

I sported a new Vidal Sasoon bob,

felt bold and grown up with

my uni-brow plucked.

I remember my father’s scowl

when a groomsman with waist length hair

obeying rattling spoons, bent to kiss me,

and the resulting blush.

The marriage lasted four years.

My daughter wore the hideous dress

when she was twelve.

She called herself a princess;

rust suits her.

Too bad my sister

never saw it.

.

.

.

You know, that whole girdle thing is really weird.  I was not a pudgy child by any reckoning.  I probably weighed about 95 lbs around the time of this wedding.  I recall it was my idea, so I must have been self-conscious of a little paunch, which at 12, was not paunch at all.  Very strange how girls are, isn’t it?

.

I looked for the wedding photos in the album, but it looks like I took them out of those photo eating ‘magnetic’ glued albums, and who knows where I put them.  Sorry!

 

 

poem- parenthood September 26, 2013

On a non-stop eight hour drive,

we paused for fuel.

“What?” you asked

As you intercepted smirks

passed over your head,

when you climbed into the back seat

after the gas station bathroom break.

“Nothing,” we said, as we pulled

back onto the highway.

Even though your sister had been

traumatized when I left her

standing in the driveway as we tore off to the bus stop

that time,

while you waved at her from the back seat

and waited for me to notice,

this time

when your dad slammed the car door,

buckled up,

and drove away,

destination in his mind,

she was the one who said,

“Missing anyone?”

so when you climbed into the car,

you never even knew

you’d ever been left behind.

 

 
%d bloggers like this: