Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- night music August 25, 2014

I was the lone

talentless one

in a room of musicians.

As each took his place,

at his instrument

I turned on the cassette

recorder, determined

to capture the moment.

I collapsed onto

the couch, in

blurry eyed reverie

as the music tangled

in my brain, filled the

basement, bounced

off the ceiling tiles.

The pianist glanced

into my starry eyes

and grinned.

The others teased

between their strings,

but words fell away

in the fog of my euphoria.

His lips curled upwards

on one side

as his eyes twinkled at mine.

When he packed to go

I rewound the tape.

I heard the

mangled mess of a

damaged tape.

Devastated, I

blinked through

tearful eyes.

Everyone  laughed,

but he draped an

arm around my shoulders

and guided me up the stairs.

As his ride arrived

he whispered,

“Don’t worry.

I’ll make you

more music.”







(Is it any wonder I wrote a book about this? lol  Tonight, I had a flashback.  Thought I’d share.)


poem- honey January 8, 2014


are ancient honey,

immutable in memory.


Floating on your laughter

I could touch stars.


The world was rose pink

with my yearning.


A sunrise through spectacles,

song rising on dawn,

desire enfolded in dream,

I wore innocence.


Your sweet kisses

colour my cheeks

in memory.


memory- This One’s for Shawn August 9, 2013

Earlier this week, Diana Gabaldon dedicated her Daily Lines to me, and sent out to her 250,000 fans on Facebook and Twitter the message #ThisOnesForShawnLBird.  I was just remembering another time when my heart was warmed to bursting by a dedication from someone I looked up to.

Once upon a time, when I was 15 or so, a boy I adored worked once a week as a Disc Jockey on a late night radio show in Calgary.  Some nights, even though I lived 650 km away on the other side of the Rocky Mountains,  I could listen to him on the skip that happens when meteorological conditions were good.  One night I called him up to say I was listening, and he dedicated this song to me.  I have the dedication on tape, and when I hear it, it still chokes me up!  If you have fond memories of your first love, you may want to get out a handkerchief.

“This one goes all the way out to Kelowna, BC.  This one’s for Shawn…”



(I sing “Share this thought with me” as “You shared the start with me”  Hmm.  Either way!

How about you?  Do you have fond memories of a very public dedication you received from someone special?  Tell us about it!


Young love February 2, 2012

Filed under: Alpha-biography,Pondering,Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:44 pm
Tags: , , , ,

This is the second entry in a  section called an “Alpha-biography.”  The exercise is to work through the alphabet, commenting on a word that connects somehow to your world.  My students are doing this in English 9 this semester, and I am modelling it by creating my own alpha-biography.  For myself, I will be focusing on how I am interpreting, synthesizing and contemplating the Greek/Roman gods as I’ve been exploring them in the process of crafting the Grace Awakening series.  (I’m working backwards, so that in the blog they’ll eventually appear A-Z instead of Z-A, as they end up ordered by time).


Young Love:

Sometimes I feel like young love coloured my entire world. I am not alone. I speak to a lot of women who are very nostalgic about the first person to whom they opened their heart. Some had negative experiences, I suppose, but I seem to meet a lot of people whose first love set them on a course of self-respect and happiness. I hope that means the negative experiences are fewer than the positive ones. Perhaps it’s just that with the span of years, one begins to find the positives, even if they hadn’t been noted previously?


I think a good young love is one that remains a fond memory throughout your life. If you take the issues and troubles, and learn from them, future relationships can be stronger.  It can become a fuel for creative endeavours, like perhaps a novel series…

Nostalgia can be a snare though, and if you build up a young love into impossible heights, a current love that must be worked around children, mortgage and bills, can seem as if it can’t measure up. Sometimes we idealize romance from the time when we didn’t have responsibilities, and forget that maturity requires change.

There is nothing like the intensity of a new love, young or old. Awakening passions make everyone young when they’re first in love.  I remember giggling phone calls from a senior lady, a widow, soon after she accepted a marriage proposal.  Her giddy joy was no less than the girls in the college dorm.  Love is a happy thing, whenever it occurs, but the small space in our hearts that is occupied by that first love remains through the years, forever young and precious.


latest press September 21, 2011

I was recently interviewed for the local paper.  I ended up being interviewed by phone, and the interviewer did not have opportunity prep by visiting the blog and reading up on what the book was about.  I tried to explain succinctly, but her questions led to complicated places.  Had I been writing the responses for her, I could have been quite clear on the facts.  As it was, paraphrases were just off enough to twist the meaning.  The resulting interview was basically accurate, but had a section that was significantly off what I thought I’d told her.

I learned something from this experience. The journalist will miss something critical in your longish story! Typing and listening simultaneously is difficult. I must remember the Keep It Simple principle!

Aside from actually getting my website address incorrect, the biggest problem was that she missed that I was actually quoting from the poem for a bit there, and she wrote a quote as if I was speaking.  

Specifically, the article says,

Based on a poem she wrote the year she turned 12, Bird says the book started as a story about the power of her first crush on a musician

 That part is fine but then this 

“I think in another life we were lovers and belonged together,” she says.

 is a paraphrase of the quote from the poem that I recited for her which included, “I think we were loves once. In another life you and and I belonged.”  Since it is not in the context of the poem, it gets a completely different slant.

“When you have one of these strong stories, you have to imagine it has been around in the universe before.”

must be a paraphrase of “I think a lot of people have the feeling when they fall in love that it’s so profound that it must have been in the universe forever.”

Regular readers of the blog who’ve read about the development of the story, the poetry, etc, will spot these issues right away.  Other people will just raise their eyebrows.  I was rather alarmed.

Yeah.  Like I said.  A learning experience.  Keep it Simple. Simple. Simple.  Phone interviews are apparently dangerous!

Live and learn.

PS. If you’re curious, the interview is here.



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