Shawn L. Bird

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

where do you write? March 22, 2021

Filed under: Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:06 pm
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Here’s a peek at my writing zone.

May be an image of indoor

The desk was built by my grandfather about 70 years ago. I inherited it when my mom died last summer. I was so happy to find an ergonomic (tilting!) keyboard tray with a swing-away mouse pad that fit between its drawers, so I can fit my ergnomic keyboard and mouse, and it tucks right up underneath when I’m done working.

The bookshelf shows a bit of my collection of writing resources, some practical, some fun!

Close ups of my (custom) mug and my needle-felted desk poodle, made from some of OJ’s wool, and finally a shot out the window of a pretty sunset over the hills earlier in the month.

My desk has to be in its own room, because I am too messy to work in a public zone. (Yes, I tidied before taking the photo!)

Do I work at this desk all the time? No. I will also work out on my porch swing in the summer, in the bath (using a full-size waterproof keyboard) or on my living room couch. However, if I’m doing a lot of writing or particularly formatting, the ergonomic set-up is important for avoiding pain. I never write in coffee shops, because I live in small place, so people are always interupting to visit. 🙂

If you’re a writer, what does your desk look like?

 

poem- story place November 7, 2014

Filed under: Poetry,Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:56 pm
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My words

want a place

up high, where they

can fly in on pieces of sky,

and settle into story.

My words

want a place

where  the stripe of the highway

guides them here and away.

My words

want to sit in

molten sunbeams

simmering as ideas, waiting

to bubble into book life.

My words,

wish the window wasn’t

so far away, and the world

outside did not beckon

with so many responsibilities.

My words

want a place

where time stops,

where only they and I exist

and together, we mold worlds.

 

 

poem-pleating June 10, 2014

Filed under: Friendship,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:01 am
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Time has pleats.

While years may stretch them out.

They enfold when old friends

meet after years,

touching as if only

hours have passed.

 

 

 

RIP Neil Armstrong. August 26, 2012

Filed under: Pondering — Shawn L. Bird @ 7:09 pm
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I was four years old when I joined a group of men in our back alley looking up into the sky.  At their pointing, I was certain that I could see a little black dot: the rocket carrying the astronaut crew that arrived on the moon.

I was in my teens, when I was in an audience to hear astronaut Jim Irwin talking about what it was like.  He described looking back on Earth and thinking it was just a blue marble.

Neil Armstrong echoed that thought when he said,

“It suddenly struck me that that tiny pea, pretty and blue, was the Earth. I put up my thumb and shut one eye, and my thumb blotted out the planet Earth. I didn’t feel like a giant. I felt very, very small.”

You may remember how in the movie Men in Black the alien disguised as a talking pug says,

“You humans!  When will you learn size doesn’t matter?  Just because something’s important, doesn’t mean it’s not very small.”

This concept is reiterated at the end of the movie in this clip:

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Requisate in pace, Neil Armstrong.  You captured a moment of greatness that emphasizes our exiguity.

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