Shawn L. Bird

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

Imaginary friends September 19, 2011

Filed under: Pondering — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:04 pm
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Illusions are powerful people. They have no flaws.

(from Sabrina)

I love the movie Sabrina. It is one of my go-to movies when I’m sewing and want some noise in the basement. I love how Sabrina transforms herself through travel and new experience. I love how she breaks free of her obsession and finds true love that was under her nose the whole time.

The first time I heard this quote, it was a bit of a punch in the gut. It was extremely illuminating. The imaginary people we create may be based on real life people, but often our minds turn them into who we want them to be, and we don’t see what they are. We create imaginary friends. For looking back fondly, there is probably no real damage in that, but if they get in the way of real relationships for our future, it is. Keep your eyes open. If your other friends don’t see what you see, through your glowing eyes of love, perhaps it’s not really there?

 

Autumn haiku September 17, 2011

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:12 am
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Breathe in the scent of / falling leaves and smoke twisting / in Crisp autumn air

 

MAGIC September 16, 2011

Filed under: Pondering — Shawn L. Bird @ 8:25 pm
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“Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.”

-Roald Dahl

and those of us who see magic all around us, will always be full of wonder.

 

Yesterday I wrote a love song September 15, 2011

Filed under: Grace Awakening,Poetry,Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:32 pm
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While Grace Awakening Power (Book two in the series) is out for final edits, I’m working on Grace Awakening Myth, the third book. Grace Awakening Myth is Awakening Dreams told from Ben’s perspective. Poor Ben (aka Orpheus!) is suffering at the moment with his shattered nose.  He’s in pursuit of his beloved Grace, and she is not being cooperative.  He’s suffering so much that it was time for a cathartic poem…

.

Yesterday I wrote a love song
Spun in circles
Weaving memory
Reaching past today
Touching yesterday
Touching you
The only way
That’s left.

Yesterday was wrapped in kisses
Spun on cycles
Weaving history
Reaching past today
Touching yesterday
Touching you
The only way
That’s left.

Today you’re gone and how I long
For circles cycles
Memory and history
Reaching past today
Touching yesterday
Touching you
The only way
That’s left

Tomorrow needs to be prolonged
Spin our cycle
To eternity
Reaching through today
Beyond yesterday
Touching you
Every day
That’s best.

.

.

Not sure whether or not that will end up being in the book.  I think it would make an awesome song.  I need a musician to take on that challenge…  

Submitted as part of the Gooseberry Garden poetry picnic.  If you are here for the picnic, please include a link to your own submission if you leave a comment.  Thanks!

 

The Thing September 7, 2011

With a bump and a grunt I started to jump

What was that by the cat?  That thing with the lump?

Something scary

and hairy.

Something wiggling!

(I’m jiggly!)

It is black on its back

It is red on its head.

That bit on the paw,

Was that yellow I saw?I

Those colours so bright are making me weep

from the fright.

I fear it will come near

Will bump into me here?

It will leap while I sleep!

Will it beat me? Or eat me?

I stared and I shivered

It glared and I quivered.

It wiggled closer to me

A tingle ran through me.

A step closer it came

And then closer again!

I just couldn’t help it: I shrieked.

Then the thing, well, it leaked

A small yellow puddle

Of a fellow in a muddle.

Its head tilted down

On its face a sad frown,

From its eyes dripped a trickle.

Oh my! That’s a pickle.

Is it looked up at me, I thought, “Could it be

That the thing over there, That thing covered in hair,

that thing coming near Is not something to fear?

If it leaked when I shrieked,

Did it think I was scary?

Did it think I was hairy?

With black on my head

My back covered in red?

So I took one step nearer and the creature came clearer.

It was cute.  It was fuzzy. It was really quite lovely!

I dropped to my knees as the thing gently sneezed.

“Hello Thing,” I said.  “My name is Fred.”

“Can I be your friend?”

(True story)

The End.

 

secrets September 5, 2011

Filed under: Pondering,Reading — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:23 am
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In the entire history of our marriage, it was the only secret I kept from her, and eventually it became impossible to fix.  With a secret like that, at some point the secret itself becomes irrelevant. The fact that you kept it does not.

Water for Elephants.  Sara Gruen.  p. 415

This is a valid point, don’t you think?  Whether or not the thing you conceal is important in later years, it can become a “Why didn’t you tell me?” sort of thing.  Mind you, I also know that shrug that says, “Well that’s no big deal!” and just accepts the fact that some people are nervous about sharing news that they think will be taken badly.  Some people get all worried about things like that, and others shake it off.  In the past.  Water under the bridge.  Who cares now about such things?

What do you think?  When is keeping the secret bigger than the secret itself?

 

kiss August 30, 2011

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:45 pm
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your eyes meet mine and

your lips beckon mine to seal

the hint of promise

 

masks August 25, 2011

Filed under: Pondering,Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:37 pm
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“Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”   Oscar Wilde

It’s an interesting idea, don’t you think?  I can see how character and philosophy oozes out from between the lines of an author’s work.  I know that people who know me laugh when they read my work, because they can hear my voice in the style.

What do you think?  Do you think you reveal more about yourself by your action and writings (particularly writing in character) than you do when responding to others?

PS.  Still looking for the short story “Masks” as per this blog

 

Roots and Blues August 20, 2011

Filed under: Pondering — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:01 am
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Having read all last night, (The Help) and getting only 3 hours sleep before I had to start my day, I’m now sitting here at 11 p.m. having awoken from a five hour nap, listening to the music from the main stage of the Salmon Arm Roots and Blues Festival.

This is quite a lovely festival, with generally well-behaved guests of all ages, who listen to a variety of music from around the world on several stages throughout the day, and settle in for the main stage once night falls.  A significant portion of Salmon Arm comes free as volunteers for one area or another.

This year I am volunteering on the dance stage.  Various  local dance groups are performing a little, and then leading a participation workshop.  We’ve been practising all summer, which is good, because usually we all desperately miss dance between the spring and fall sessions.

Lots of people make up these local festivals, doing all sorts of little jobs.  Our time makes it happen.  Come on and enjoy a day with us!

 

help your choices August 19, 2011

Filed under: Pondering,Reading — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:01 am
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In the book, The Help, by Kathryn Stockett,  Skeeter is confronted by her maid, Constantine who tells her,

“Ever morning, until you dead in the ground, you gone have to make this decision…. You gone have to ask yourself, Am I gone believe what them fools say about me today?”  (Kathryn Stockett, p. 73)

Skeeter is floored by this revelation.  She says,

“All my life I’d been told what to believe about politics, coloreds, being a a girl.  But with Constantine’s thumb pressed in my hand, I realized I actually had a choice in what I could believe.” (Ibid. p. 74)

This is a powerful message, isn’t it?  You choose the values, morals and beliefs that guide your life.  Your parents may teach you theirs, but in the end, you have the right, perhaps really the obligation, to choose your own.