She’s
dishing out the gossip,
spreading the news,
telling tales
He’s
wagging tails,
reading the clues
washing dishes, cutting his losses
poem-puppies December 4, 2014
Teen-agers are
loudly gregarious.
Their laughter magnified by tousles.
People who are afraid of them,
would not be, if they saw them
collapsed upon my drama room floor
giggling like so many puppies,
or arguing about their favourite authors
around the tables in the library.
Though even wolves
are adorable
when they’re little.
poem- ghosts November 9, 2014
You were
exorcized
letter by letter,
word by word,
phrase by phrase,
sentence by sentence,
paragraph by paragraph,
page by page,
chapter by chapter.
Now you are
merely a spectre
who peeks around corners
whispers at my ear
hums for my remembrance.
My only benediction
on the lost boy
from long ago
is the bittersweet smile
and the faraway glimmer
in my eyes.
poem- ram or roll? November 8, 2014
Two identical
blazing logs
are ramming together
shooting sparks
with every shot,
neither aware
that they will set the
whole forest on fire
if they do not
stop ramming
and begin rolling
toward the cool waters
of understanding.
poem-spun October 22, 2014
They can not see beyond the fog
that is all they seek.
Escape.
They fall altered into pharmaceutical
reality.
Mist like creeping mustard gas
poisons their future
stealing their hopes
ruining their dreams.
They fill their days
seeking nebulous security
altered beyond
recognition.
.
.
For those kids and their families battling with addiction who most need education and school supports to develop health and security.
anecdote-overheard in the classroom October 15, 2014
“I know this guy
who chopped off all his fingers in a blender.”
What? Was he intoxicated? drunk? high?
“Nope.”
You’re kidding. Why would he do that?
“Well, you know, he wanted to prove he could touch
the middle of the chopping part without getting hurt.”
But he couldn’t, apparently.
Shrug. “I guess not.”
Huh.
“Yeah. People from Calgary are stupid.”
.
.
.
Sometimes, I am very afraid for the youth of today.
poem- dockside June 28, 2014
The boat bumps
against the wharf
and the tourist boy
grins and offers his hand
inviting the hometown girl
to enjoy novelty
as old as time.
poem-smells like teen spirit June 6, 2014
In response to my comment
she gives me a look
like I am covered with manure
and am suggesting she join me
wallowing in a pig pen.
Nose flared, forehead creased,
like she has scented
something foul, she raises a brow
and turns away with a scowl,
still here in body, but not in spirit,
while her friends chatter and giggle
pleasantly with me.
poem- cat woman May 26, 2014
She slashed him.
.
Pain scratched and yowled around his brain,
longing for palliation.
He saw compassion and affection in your eyes
wrapped his hands across your neck and
in the explosion of agonized ecstasy,
you choked down his hurt.
.
She twitched her fingers.
.
With his backward gaze,
he saw anguish curling lithely behind your eyes.
You saw his pitying relief, even as his pain
purred so loudly in your head
it blocked the words
he should have said.
.
.
.
This one is for Amber
poem- offering March 12, 2014
You bring your words to me
an offering
held in your open palms
like a supplicant.
I meet your fearful eyes
and tell you of your strengths,
coach through your weaknesses,
and encourage your improvement,
as gently as I can.
You reward me with your laughter,
a sound so rare that I am still celebrating
hours later,
so thankful
to be your teacher,
and have the chance to watch
your talent turn you into the
accomplished person
you will be.
Shawn L. Bird 