Shawn L. Bird

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

music-Skye Boat Song on harp May 29, 2014

Here’s a little break from ranting poems or pugilistic poetry!  In honour of the upcoming Outlander TV show, here’s an ‘arrangement in progress’ I’ve made of The Skye Boat Song, which I’m betting is incorporated into the TV show theme.

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For the technically curious:

I am playing a double strung harp.  (This was definitely easier before I had bifocals, though it was challenging enough then).  There are three octaves on each side of the harp, tuned to the same notes.  44 strings in all.  This is a low-head Celtic harp, in the style of the famous Irish Brian Boru harp or the Scottish  Queen Mary harp.  It is also known as a Scottish clarsach.  Specifically, mine is a Brittany harp, built for me by Stoney End 15 years ago or so. (When I bought it the Canadian dollar was around 70c US, so it was pricey!)  It still has its original strings!  This says it’s a tough little harp, and that I’m a lazy harpist (some people change strings a couple of times a year, to keep the sound bright).  It is made from a lovely, shimmery grained cherry and has a Baltic birch soundboard with a pretty inlay strip at the base of the strings.  It keeps its tuning brilliantly- rarely needing more than a titch of adjustment here and there.  This is a rare blessing in a harp!

Here are The Skye Boat Song lyrics as I say them to myself while I’m playing (which does not in any way imply they are the correct lyrics!)

Speed bonny boat like a bird on the wing

Onward the sailors cry

Carry the lad that’s born to be king

Over the sea to Skye!

Loud the winds blow

Loud the waves crash

Ocean’s a weary bed

La la la la

la la la la                           (< < < < pretty sure those aren’t the right lyrics)

Watch o’er your weary head

oh                                        (That’s the soft D sounded to start back into the chorus)

Speed bonny boat… (etc)

I always thought somehow Flora McDonald was on this boat with him, but I think that’s just me.

 

I promise OJ the standard poodle is only sleeping, though he certainly does look dead.  He is snoring now, in the exact same position.

 

 

poem- now May 24, 2014

Filed under: OUTLANDERishness,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:55 pm
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Now

I remember

what I wanted to ask.

I wonder if…

this

that

the other.

Right.

I had meant to ask

about that, hadn’t I?

But in the excitement

all the good questions

fell out of my head

leaving a joyful

explosion of

now.

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This could mean anything, because of course it happens all the time, but specifically today, I had 3 questions wander through my brain that I’d meant to ask author Diana Gabaldon in the 90 minutes we were driving from the airport in Kelowna to Salmon Arm for Word on the Lake Writers’ Festival. Yesterday another one floated through.  I suspect many more will show up in the weeks to come.  Oh well.  We’ll just have to have her back!  🙂

 

poem- waking May 19, 2014

Filed under: OUTLANDERishness,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:24 am
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I woke this morning

pleasantly foggy and

imagined my day.

What workshops will I attend?

Yes.  That one. This one.

Then I stretched my mind

into clarity and realized

conference is over;

everyone has gone home.

It was a melancholy moment,

before the smile,

savouring memories.

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A memory like this one.  My dear husband, grinning broadly with Diana Gabaldon beside him outside the conference banquet.  This is the first time he’s met an author whose work he admires.  I’m laughing because I just had to sprint down the hall to get into the photo.  Despite being with Diana all weekend and snapping many photos of her with/for other people, this moment was the only one I had taken with her myself this year.

John-Diana-Shawn1crop

P.S. The counter says that this is my 1400th blog post.  Nice to celebrate with two of my favourite people! 😉

 

cannibal art May 15, 2014

cannibal art.

I’ll be referencing this in one of my introductions of Diana Gabaldon this weekend.  Workshop? Key note? Banquet? Come to Word on the Lake Writers’ Festival in the Shuswap this weekend and find out which!

 

 

poem- tribal longings May 3, 2014

I miss my tribe.

The house is full of pessimistic

scientific thinkers.

I can’t coax them into poetry.

“I just can’t appreciate it,” says one.

“Poetry.  Yeah.  Whatever,” says the other.

They analyze and ruminate with

cold logic.

They don’t hear the wind’s song,

or feel the blackbird’s call.

I am a lone poet boat tossing

on their scientific sea.

But soon, my tribe will come.

I will be immersed in the language

of verse, pressed into prose.

I will know the companionship

of a crowd of like minds,

feeding on the energy to

fuel our words,

until we come together

again.

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Just 2 weeks until Word on the Lake Writers’ Festival here in Salmon Arm, BC

I’m looking forward to learning from Diana Gabaldon, C. C. Humphreys, Gary Geddes, Ursula Maxwell-Lewis, Carmen Aguerra, Carolyn Swayze, Howard White, and more!  It’s always a fantastic weekend for a bargain price.  You should come.  Seriously.

 

 

poem- waiting for grey whales March 25, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:24 pm
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On shore watching

patiently waiting

for grey whales.

Scanning grey-blue sky

into grey-blue horizon

on grey-blue ocean

searching for a grey puff of breath

a fluke, sign of a whale amid the grey tipped waves.

Staring.

Scanning.

Watching.

Impatiently waiting for grey whales

in the blue-grey ocean

before the blue-grey horizon

under the blue-grey sky.

Staring.

Scanning.

Watching.

Waiting for grey whales

makes me

blue.

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I’ve wanted to see whales since I read this book as a kid. 3rd trip to the coast during the grey whale migration, and still no sighting.

 

April 13, 2014.  Diana Gabaldon trivia:  Fred Phleger, author of the above book, was a professor at Scripps Institution of Oceanography from 1951 to 1977.  Diana earned her MS in Marine Biology at Scripps in 1975.

 

poem-Newton’s first law of writing February 24, 2014

Filed under: Poetry,Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:30 am
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It’s not about writer’s block

It’s about writer’s inertia

An object at rest, stays at rest;

A writer not writing, remains not writing.

Something must get it moving.

An object in motion, stays in motion;

A writer writing, remains writing,

Unless an outside force acts upon it.

Seek the energy to start the motion

And stay in motion

So the book gets written.

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Diana Gabaldon once said that she tries to write every day, because if she doesn’t,  an inertia develops and it’s hard to get to it.  I have found this true!  Since the frenzy of drafting two novels in November, it’s been hard to do more than outline recently.  I know that if I just get into the rhythm of the writing, it will propel itself, but the novel writing rhythm is proving elusive these days.   I’ve been having no trouble keeping up the blog though, providing a poem for your daily reading.  That’s better than nothing!

 

poem- wall whispers February 2, 2014

Listen

to whispers,

stories in the wall.

Poems found,

Titles titillate,

tease, and

tantalize.

Writing on the wall

whispers

through the room.

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Last weekend I started wallpapering my dining room with pages from a book.  I was given a copy of Diana Gabaldon’s Drums of Autumn last fall.  I already have a copy, and the gift had a broken binding, so I pondered ways to use it for practical purpose.  Today I’m putting the finishing touches on.  Most of the wall layout is fairly straight-forward, but I had 9 extra inches that I centred, and there I’ve been playing.  I’ve included copies of autographs we have in other Diana Gabaldon books (copied onto a blank page of the book to match perfectly).  I’ve cut graphic  bits from Part divisions and used them decoratively.  I’ve taken chapter titles and made them into little poems.  I’m really liking my very unique wall!  

 This is a close up on a ‘poem section’ made with section and chapter titles:

Je t’aime

beaucoup

passionnément

pas de tout.

Blame

Forgiveness

The toss of a coin.

wall-jtaimepoemdry

Here are the dedications (John’s is actually in the copy of The Scottish Prisoner and says “For John- No one looks better than a man in a kilt!”  Mine is in The Exile and says, “To Shawn, Wonderful to meet you in person!”):

wall-dedications

Here’s a step back at the wall.  The diamond medallions spaced across the top were from dividing pages:

wall-fullfinished

 

quote- Diana Gabaldon’s advice to aspiring writers January 22, 2014

DianaBallerinaquote

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On Twitter yesterday, a young fan asked Diana if she had any advice for aspiring writers who felt completely inadequate.  This was Diana’s response.  I plan to frame it and post it all over my class room.  You don’t get better at ANYTHING unless you practise.   Dedication will pay off in the long run, as long as you work at it, and endeavour to keep improving.  Diana was brilliantly concise.  (Being a ballerina drop out, I can vouch for the accuracy, too!  I never got on my toes.) 😉

 

found poem- chapter titles from MOBY by Diana Gabaldon December 12, 2013

Diana Gabaldon just posted the Chapter 82  to 94 titles for her next book in the Outlander series, entitled Written in My Own Heart’s Blood (aka MOH-B, aka MOBY)  Those chapter titles were mixed to create this ‘found poem.’  Words in bold are Diana’s titles.  Regular print and punctuation are mine.  The fun with found poetry, is that one often senses something profound hovering just below understanding.  Can you find a message here?

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Keeping Score:

    One Day Cock of the Walk—Next Day, A Feather Duster

but

I Will Not Have Thee Be Alone

on the    

Long Road Home

Through

    Sundown

         Nightfall

            Moonrise or

                The Sense of the Meeting

                    In Which Rosy-Fingered Dawn Shows Up Mob-Handed.

A Whiff of Roquefort

in

The House on Chestnut Street

reveals that

It’s a Wise Child Who Knows His Father

Oh yes, for

Even People Who Want to Go to Heaven Don’t Want to Die to Get There.