Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- they’ve installed the frosted glass February 10, 2021

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:06 pm
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barriers to the outside

secrets

distance

privacy

safety

at a cost of claustrophobia

these walls close in

while we huddle

masking our smiles

nervous

hidden thoughts.

 

poem-i don’t want to write a poem January 13, 2021

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:52 pm
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Another demo pantoum poem written with my Creative Writing students today. This one demonstrates the power of this form, as small shifts can alter or intensify meaning. The kids weren’t in the mood to write at the beginning, but by the second stanza they were laughing and engaged as we looked for rhymes that worked.

I don’t want to write a poem today
I’m too tired to use my brain
The thought fills me with dismay
Poems make me insane

I’m too tired to use my brain
My mind is feeling foggy
Poems make me insane
My eyes are getting soggy

My mind is feeling foggy
Can I just return to bed?
My eyes are getting soggy
My heart is filled with dread

I’ll just return to bed
I’m much too tired to think
My heart is filled with dread
My life is on the brink

I’m much too tired to think
If my feelings are uncaged
My life is on the brink
The words won’t fill the page

When my feelings are uncaged
all the thoughts bring me dismay
Words will over-fill the page
I can’t write a poem today

 

poem-After the fatal accident January 11, 2021

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:13 pm
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There is your name

on the attendance list.

Absent: excused

Parents called in.

 

poem- begin again January 27, 2020

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:10 pm
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See the tense bodies, tentative smiles,

step through the door into new beginnings,

slip into a new desk, a new view,

ready?

Stretch understandings,

begin again!

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

(ignore any ads put here by WordPress. I do not endorse them)

 

poem-they’re all the same May 6, 2019

Filed under: Poetry,Teaching — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:15 pm
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Pick up any yearbook

any place

any year.

Turn the pages,

you will recognize them.

That one:

always so friendly.

That one:

forever in trouble.

That one:

so cool.

That one:

Oh! The music!

That one:

skipped more than attended

That one:

kept you up nights,

worried about wise choices

safe places.

Any yearbook,

familiar faces,

each so unique,

every one the same.

 

poem- scratching January 23, 2019

Filed under: Poetry,Teaching — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:11 am
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Pens poised,

Paper rustling.

Begin.

Destiny scratched

into this exam.

Future doors open or close.

You can ruin your life!

.

Don’t stress.

Life is not a straight road.

If an exam slams a door,

wiggle through windows,

force up foundations,

drop down the chimney.

Destiny is carved in determination,

not scratched in this exam.

 

poem-interpretation February 6, 2018

The Lord of All Knowledge,

Gatekeeper of Truth,

says the poem means this.

Generations of readers bow

before this wisdom,

even though they don’t see it,

can’t believe it,

they just accept it.

When the poet reads

the critic’s piece,

she laughs and laughs

at the irony of such arrogant

assumptions!

Oh, student!

Good reader!

There are no errors

of interpretation in poetry!

Your experiences show you a meaning,

and if you can find lines to support,

your responses are just as valid as any critic’s.

(So the famous poet said to me,

and he should know).

 

poem- Muffin Pantoum December 10, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:25 am
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Here’s another pantoum poem, written as a demo with a class on Poetry Friday.  This was last block of the day, and one of the students wanted to go get a muffin…  Another laugh filled class as we created this poem together!

.

Muffin Pantoum (C block)

Josie and Ally want a muffin;

They can’t work on empty stomachs.

Without food, they won’t do nothin’.

How about crackers and hummus?

 

They can’t work on empty stomachs

How can we ask them to?

How about crackers and hummus?

As we watched, their hunger grew.

 

How can we ask them to?

A muffin’s not too much to ask!

As we watched, their hunger grew.

They couldn’t do their tasks.

 

A muffin’s not too much to ask!

A morsel would be fine!

They couldn’t do their tasks

Oh, please! Please, let them dine!

 

A morsel would be fine!

They only need a bit of food;

Oh, please! Please, let them dine!

Josie gives us attitude.

 

They only need a bit of food

Without food, they won’t do nothing

Josie gives us attitude:

Josie and Ally want a muffin!

.

(This is quite literal. When we were done, they went off and got ONE muffin that they shared).  🙂

 

Poem-Egger Pantoum December 9, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:10 pm
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In our school, the chef’s training kids make ‘eggers’ in the morning.  These are buns with fried egg, cheese, and a sausage patty.  They are a popular fast-food breakfast fare, but I hate them.  Fried eggs are nauseating to me, runny yolks make me want to vomit, the smell makes me nauseous.  So, to avoid calamity, I do not allow them in my class room. Kids have to eat them outside the room. There are huge windows between room and hall, so the class can watch the egger eater outside, like a sad puppy at the glass, waiting to come in.  

Today we learned about pantoum poems, and before they wrote their own, I guided a class written one.  This was what A block English 11 came up with, as one student was barred and then didn’t realise the door was unlocked, so he could just walk back in when he was done eating his egger.  There was lots of laughter, as we wrote it!  🙂  I love Poetry Fridays!

Egger Pantoum (A block’s)

I wanted into English class.

I wasn’t allowed in.

They laughed at me, en masse.

Eating eggers is a sin

 

I wasn’t allowed in;

I walked away.

Eating eggers is a sin.

What a great start to the day.

 

I walked away.

I wandered through the halls.

What a great start to the day,

Trapped within these walls.

 

I wandered through the halls.

I’m chewing very slowly

Trapped within these walls

Eating eggers, I’m unholy

 

I’m chewing very slowly;

Tears are streaming down my cheeks.

Eating eggers, I’m unholy,

The door won’t open for a week.

 

Tears are streaming down my cheeks.

They laughed at me, en masse!

The door won’t open for a week.

I wanted into English class!

 

poem- not May 11, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:05 am
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I am not enough

to fill the void.

A yawning maw,

a gaping hole,

inadequacy piled upon inadequacy

overwhelms

and I

do not have the mass

to shore up against this tide

of weakness compounded

year after year until they got here.

I am battered.

I am broken.

I am not enough.

 

 
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