Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- When we spoke of masks April 6, 2021

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:33 pm
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Once, masks were metaphorical;

pandemics were historical.

Now, cortisol flood makes us

fatter every day.

Isolating’s creating a nation of moles,

nervous of leaving our holes,

as each wave proves more deadly,

We’re wishing consequences on anti-maskers

and anti-vaxxers: be sacrifices for your cause,

carry a card that you’re happy to

leave hospital beds for those who

take this seriously, those

who sacrifice comfort for society.

We’ll try to survive by masking insecurities,

and wait eagerly for our vaccines,

praying variant strains, don’t over-strain us.

Masking anxiety until we can

Breathe easier again.

.

.

.

.

NaPoWriMo Day 6. Another day ignoring the official prompt ’cause I had other stuff in my mind. Weird how often I’m playing with rhyme this week.

 

poem- like ducks December 7, 2020

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:58 pm
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

On the outside:

calm, controlled, confident.

Beneath the surface:

quivering, quaking, confused.

How many stress-based illnesses

tension fueled troubles

surface in our bodies and minds?

How hard do we fight

to carry on?

 

poem- delusion April 29, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:04 pm
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

You are deluded.

People are

laughing at you behind your back?

No.  They’re not.

You Interpret casual, general remarks about the state of the universe

as personal attacks.

You are like my fear aggressive dog,

seeing people in the distance

growling from afar, shaking and snapping.

But they’re…!

No.  They’re not.

You need a Gentle leader

to pull your mouth closed

bite back those lies

calm your hysteria.

You’re snapping and panting at air.

 

poem- vibrations November 5, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 5:46 pm
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

I feel the vibration

reverberating down my back

drilling between shoulder blades

pushing at my temples.

Simple questions

snarky answers.

Simple expectations

superior refusals.

Patience is very thin

The end of the rope has frayed

Consequences?

Here’s a tent.

and a sleeping bag,

if you’d prefer?

The massage will work

out the kinks,

settle the tension,

return balance,

but when I’m back,

you’ll still be here,

sending out those vibrations

that are breaking down

my nervous system.

 

 

poem- oasis August 30, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:42 pm
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Small oasis.

Forest of calm

amid desiccating storm.

Drop of water.

Rest.

 

 
<span>%d</span> bloggers like this: