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when my pencil hits the paper

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when my pencil hits the paper

and my brain begins to race,

my hand cannot keep up

with the unruly pace.

 

my scribbles become springs

bouncing up and down the page

with an energy quite erratic,

full of angst, or joy, or rage.

 

I submit myself to thee,

oh Goddess of the pen!

I beg for illumination,

for the power to go within

 

to unearth the sticky stuf...

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inspirationprocesswriting

Wish You Were Here

entry picture

Wish you were here,
to break down all the differences,
to shake down all the borders,
to melt down all the distance,
to connect all the figures
in the right place.
What else could, what else could confront us?
In the same way we breath,
in the same way we cry,
wish you were here,
tonight when the whole world is empty
and there is no one left to die.

Wish you were here,
to create all t...

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love poemslove poetrypoetrysad poetrywriting

Crooked Café

entry picture

I used to hate this part of town
After London
it felt like stepping back in time
as if all our momentum to the capital 
had been lost
these shops with their hand-painted signs
I didn’t recognise the names
they’re not triplicated on every high street

And now I sit
in the Crooked Café
the waitress always tries to remember my ‘usual’
but I love that she never quite gets it right
gives u...

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cafecityCrookespeaceSheffieldteawritingYorkshire

Why Poems?

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Poems are my photographs
my diary
my inner monologue
poems are my measurement
my record
the fingerprints of emotions
invisible no more
Poems are my expression
the sum of interactions
they show my working out
Poems are the breath
of lost lovers
against my neck
Poems are my kisses
for my family and my friends
the hugs I seldom give

And your poems...
your poems keep me company
a l...

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poemspoetrywriting

Writing Moment

entry picture

Finger and thumb

Wrapped around 

A pen

Wrote a few words

Full stopped.

Then started again

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MeditationWritingZen exercise

Do it anyway

entry picture

Expressing isn't always about impressing

Sometimes it's a confession

Or the regression of a memory

 

It might even be

About a maybe

A one day me

 

That I only see

Approximately more clearly

When it's put into words

 

It could seem absurd

When it's read

Or tis' heard

 

But they must be released

In order to cease

My mental marathon

 

When a...

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poetryWritingwriting for fun

Abandoned

Feeling down
because my muse
abandoned me again.
Maybe to teach me
another lesson
about leaning on him,
instead of mining inspiration
from deep within.
Seeking satisfaction
outside ourselves
is perhaps the greatest sin.
It is a game no one wins.
So, back to the blank page I go.
Just me and my pen.

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abandoneddepressioninspirationlife lessonsmuserelationshipswriting

The Way I Write

The way I write;
I brainstorm twenty titles
words or phrases 
that sound good to me
that subconsciously already feel like parts of me
then 
I refine them
and refine them
pile them up around my feet
And 
when I’m in the mood to write
I either start writing
(with aim or aimlessly)
until I get stuck
then grab a title
work it in the lock
release the poem that was hidden
(o, and it fee...

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friendspoemspoetryprocessthoughtswordswriting

Lunar

Poems are like moons
reflecting past light
back down towards me
when I choose to look

Mind and creation
coexisting
at a respectful distance

Purged
with so much space between us
I no longer live
through the poems
they’re just reflections now

Beneath the busy sky
I’m free
and living life...

 

(Inspired by Cynthia's moon poems)

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moonreflectionswriting

Rough Diamond

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More on the whole writing process, & turning your scribbled notes into something....

Mining my mind

For Diamonds

Rough Nuggets

On Notes

Are the

Shy Ones

Got To

Polish 'em Out

Nice & Shiny

Won't Let

These 

Self Doubts

Defy Me

 

 

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poetrySelf-doubtwriting

WHERE IS THE MAGIC? - ALEXIS KARPOUZOS

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Where is the magic?

We all start out knowing magic.

We are born with hurricanes and whirlwinds,

oceans and galaxies inside us.

We are able to sing to birds and read the clouds

and see the destiny in grains of sand.

But we have forgotten the magic

and we feel without compass, alone and desperately,

only selfishness, only pain, fear and darkness.

But, magic of love has nev...

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beautyEducationfriendshipharmonyheartlifelightlovepeacefulphilosophypoetrysilencesoulspiritualstillnesswriting

Iridescent

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Observe dear, the way August hides
it's luminescence,
absorbs it's magic through the veins of our town,
going back in time, conquering places,
searching for the last tone to catch
the sound.

And it looks like we were here before,
and it looks like we are still part of
one whole,
this lifestyle blew us out of control,
all that we left,
hidden tattoos on our soul.

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life writinglove poetrypoetry eventwriting

Baltimore

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Baltimore.
Burned out, hidden from the crowds inside of stranger's minds,
there are things to be found
in a time after time...after time.
But look,
not always you can read the last memories
inside of the universe book,
you always share what it takes
but now it gets more than you took.
No, stranger!
Nothing left to be undermined,
simple, eternal, contagious,
chasing ashes from those emp...

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love poetrynostalgicpoetrysad poetrySpoken Word poetrywriterwriting

Escape

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Close your eyes, escape,
one weightless breath after another,
at the time when universe slips out of your hand,
but to live, to feel and to die when
two worlds crashes into each other,
and the atoms dissolve into the sand.

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love poetry Love lostpoetry eventwritingwriting poetrywriting walk

Murmur Love

Don’t be scared to put it out there
Don’t be scared to speak
sometimes what you choose to make
is pure gold

Don’t be afraid to paint what you love
Don’t be afraid to create
some things are bigger than you ever knew
eternal beyond our lives

I say go
and keep going
go and keep going
murmur love, if that’s all you’ve got

I love the way you carve it
I love the way you write
I love ...

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artistscreativitylovepaintingwriting

You Are My Priest

Is it not the beads you count
Is it not that blessing
Is it not your seated position
on the far side of the screen

It’s here I come and spill
twisting myself as rope
endlessly unknotting 
a constant confessional

And through the cracks
behind the mesh
I feel your furtive eyes 
licking my salacious lines

Dear reader
you are my witness
you are my priest

Is it not the way you br...

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confessionsharing workwriteoutloudwriting

Pi

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Someday we'll find a way to
protect our dreams and seek our hopes, 
words - soft as July's razors
disappearing path, forbiden trace,
screaming loud, carving into stones - deliverance, replace -
''true love hurries but it always waits'',
never...in the same place. 

Someday we'll find a way to
fly away and disappear,
going higher as we never did before,
staring at the same old mindless mes...

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creative writinglife writinglove poetrypoetrysad poetrywriting

Chasing Light

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Speak louder so they can't hear the silence instead,
turmoils and echos around my rigorous head,
keeping all the truths that we want to destroy
but we ought to protect,
see... I am nothing but a builder
but tonight I dreamt I was
an architect.

Momentum holds and it wouldn't rest,
dissolved in same old liquid mess,
vibrating body around its perfect chest
somehow.. still trying to disconne...

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life lovelove poetrypoetrysad poetrywriting

If Poems Were Paintings (A Scabrous Fantasy, Written After Watching J. Koons at Work On BBC4)

This poem was painstakingly transcribed by 23 unpaid

interns labouring under my cool, indifferent 'tutelage'

(and who, after each day's work is finished, in bars and cafés

across the city will pretend to their friends how valued

they're made to feel as students and protegés of mine.)

                                                                                                   E...

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artfantasywriting

A Few Lines Conceived In Poor Mimickry (A Mere Matter Of Minutes After Concluding A Biography Concerning That Conceited, If Colourful Cove, Coleridge)

I, too have watched a myriad words die,

all for want of you, fearless audience -

your special someone with that kindly eye

and ear who could best, sans wilful offence

 

urge me to test myself, by composing

a thousand lines and honing them to one.

Your wisdom, without combative ego's

ingrown need to sound 'clever' (not far gone

 

in self-esteem, I mean) might serve adv...

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friendshipMusewriting

Dancing Shadows

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    Right there in front of our eyelids. Beating sylhouettes, shaking waves, swallowing the last crystals from the ground. Transcending the sounds with a great rage and leaving the pace behind while calling it unsuccessfully back again. At the place where paleness combines with moonlight in the most disasterous ways, protecting their last luminescence alive.
    Shadows dancing through shadows of...

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creative writinglife writinglove poetrywritingwriting walk

Scarlet

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With the rain we met and walked in,
after storms, flames and fire,
protecting ourselves somewhere in between,
sharing moments, fears, desires...

With all the steps we need to take,
living through our days, through our nights,
nothing left to tell my little one,
you are always in my head..I am always by your side.

With the rain we meet here again,
and my promises that i try to keep.
I wil...

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love poetrypoetrywriting

Good Morning Dear You

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There's not much i want to tell,
this early calls, fading light,
with morning girl we're ought to sail,
coming slowly, going by,
leading us to fairytale.

And suddenly I became aware,
suddenly it's you all i wanna see,
stored and wrapped in your morning spell,
I hope you feel allright,
I hope you've slept well.

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love poetrypoetrySpoken Word poetrywriting

Hello

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Hello from the other side,
from protected words, created lights,
as something small,
something right,
distant signal, so hard to recognize.
I don't feel I can...no I can't,
I can't really write tonight.

Hello from the city streets,
purple in the deep, fading lights
with contrast of white on white,
shattered through the dark,
broken in their half,
epitomized.
I am sorry cause I can't.....

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free writelove poetrypoetrySpoken Word poetrywriting

Mortality

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Mortality stalks me 
like a jealous lover.

Breathlessly follows me
wherever I go, incessantly
banging a gong, 

chanting, 

it won't be long, 
come to me, let 
the pain end.

My eternal soul sees
this game of mortal gods 

and challenges me

to go where mortals
fear to tread...

Meditate in silent space
past the black hole,

beyond illness,
depression, despair

to that ...

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artdeathdepressiondespaireternityfreedomillnesslegacylifemagicmortalitypoetrysoulwriting

The Writer's Plight

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For some, the writer's plight may be staring at a blank page, fear of rejection, or resistance presented in various forms. For me, the writer's plight is being available morning, noon, and night to welcome a steady stream of pop-in visitors with expectations of providing conversation, cooking, cleaning, even childcare for hours on end.

With a Mona Lisa smile, I weigh the importance of what my d...

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comfort zonedrama queenfamilyfocushabitlegacymuseprioritiesquality timerelationshipswriter's lifewriting

Write or Wrong

I write, but I may be wrong

So I cross things out as I go along

Sometimes I will uncross too

Go back, revisit, start anew.

I write, but I may not know

The proper style or way to go

To free the feelings that I feel

And portray them true, with zest and zeal.

I write, but sometimes I ask

What is the purpose of this task?

Does any body realy care

To see and hear what I...

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acceptancededicationtruthvulnerabilitywriting

writing

iv never read a full book

but I can't stop writing

when I write i dont think

iv got dishes piled up in my sink

my bedding needs changing

and my bath needs a clean

I'm 30 odd and live like a teen

my floors not a floor I call it a floor-drobe

I have no idea how to maintain a wardrobe

doors hanging off ..my child needs a new bed

I'd rather write this poem instead 

the...

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writing

A Poem a Day

Oh NaPoWriMo 
how you challenge me.

Calling me to rhyme on time
when I would rather procrastinate
with this talent of mine. 

A poem a day keeps the doldrums away.
Read it, write it, recite it,
makes no difference 
to me. 

Just do what you can 
with what you've got
and see how happy 
you will be!
 

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habitshappiness.NaPoWriMopoemspoetrywriting

Wish You Were Here

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Wish you were here,
to break down all the differences,
to shake down all the borders,
to melt down all the distance,
to connect all the figures
in the right place.
What else could, what else could confront us?
In the same way we breath,
in the same way we cry,
wish you were here,
tonight when the whole world is empty
and there is no one left to die.

Wish you were here,
to create all t...

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love poetrypoetrywordswritingwriting poetry

Writers Block

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The words don't flow as they used to

The lines don't form as well

My mind seems stuck in idle

Awaiting thoughts to swell

Each day I live, I see so much

It should inspire something

Yet when I sit to write it out

My brain comes up with nothing

 

 

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creatingempty mindideasinspirationwriter's blockwriting

'untitled'

Take some words

And write them down

Give them life

Give them sound

Twist them

Turn them

Make them real

Let them become

Whatever you feel

3/2018

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Imaginationwordswriting

Y Lolfa

My rhymes form in clouds

over the arm chair

beside my note books

and the fire

 

My lines are captured

and preserved

in the remains of the forest

immortalised on its pulp
 

My words are held captive awhile

in the bright prison cells

where machines etch their pain

on smooth white sheets

 

My once quiet thoughts crash

noisily onto the leaves

again and ...

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linespoemspoetprintingprocesspublisherpublishingwriting

When She Left

the pain of the vacant page                                      stage

for the dance

of my pen

 

the fear of the frozen mind                                        blind

  to the hope

 of a rhyme

 

the silence of an empty house                                spouse

to the song

of my word

 

the hush of unwanted time                                      chime

t...

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inspirationlossMusepagepenpoetrywriting

No Rush

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I think we can be something special,

So let's just take it slow,

And wait until we're ready,

To decide where this goes.

There's no need to rush,

Because I'll always be here,

Today, tomorrow,

For the next million years.

 

-tae

 

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heartlifelovepassionpoemrelationshipsrhymetimewriting

Summer And Everything After

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Don't look the other way
the view can take me from you.
It's all written there
what we chasing..

Now it's the other way
don't let me fall from there.
The moment that we wanted
is fading..

I am not worried
I am not worried
everything changes
I am never worried
I am never worried
time is still fading
around you..
i swear it's true..

Ten thousand miles away
your shadow is danci...

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Acousticguitarlove poetryMusicpoetrywritingwriting poetry

February Scars

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Take your pills
bury them somewhere,
on a road
that leads to nowhere,
we fall 
like leafs on the ground.

Melt your swett
drope it around me,
turn the radio gatter the fallen stars,
bring your february
scars.

Let's pretend 
we have no money,
close your eyes
lay upon me,
the whole world 
is what we are trying to forget.

Let's pretend
we have no problems
get your things
and ...

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Acousticguitarlife writingMusicpoetrywritingwriting poetry

Veronica

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Veronica,
with a bullet in hands
with a smile on her face
with eyes full of betrail
she walks down the hill

Veronica,
this night is'nt fair
you just can't compare
your eyes with the grail
underestimating pain

And she walks
with a bullet in hands
and eyes full of betrail.
God knows
they're just a silver 
scrapes in 
may.

And she hates
her steps in the sand
and her crown has...

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guitarMusicpoetrywritingwriting poetry

Try

entry picture

Take your every step you've walked,
pretend you walk a mile from here
and go again

Show me how'd you get so far,
show me your forgotten call
and i'll be there...

Building up your silhouettes
building up your silhouettes
and going out again.

Take your dreams and fake them right,
fake them right once in a while
and walk away.

All you are is step in time,
dust is grey and rain is...

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creating changeguitarMusicMusic with Spoken Word.poetrywritingwriting poetry

Catching Signals

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With every visible light
shades dissappears along the way,
burned to the ground,
invisible coloured sound,
restless needle in a hay.

Siting on the top,
catching signals with my brain,
exhausted, terryfied 
from the crowd below 
how is it possible to feel
so stuck in time, so alone?

With every visible light
shades turned out again,
arising from the ashes
visible colourblind man,
...

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life writingpoetrywritingwriting poetry

She

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She's a creator
She's always bright
She's a general 
in black and white.
She put's her problems
down on the line,
She's out of control when
nothing is fine.

She means something,
she keeps something,
she means something,
something away,
to me,
from me.

She is so calm
when no one is around.
She's a believer
with hands on the ground.
She's a poet 
fingers on the screen.
She's ...

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love poetrypoetryshewritingwriting poetry

Melancholia In May

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Sun is now on the top again
swallowing the rest of our memories,
protecting the remains of the day,
keeping all the moments,
keeping them all the way....down.
Hey, forget your pride
there is nothing left to say
nothing stronger, nothing deeper than 
melancholia in May.
Don't collapse, stand up to your sense, your life,
store them somewhere else,
keeping them away, breaking them apart,
...

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melancholiapoetrywritingwriting poetry

Echoes

entry picture

Echoes,
echoes in the dark chasing us away..
chasing us..
away.

Echoes, 
echoes.. are still down there,
..there they are trying to hear our call,
call them to come around we are almost free, almost there,
almost there..
..fallen angels on the ground..
on the ground..
broken needle in a hay ..
in a hay.

Echoes,
echoes .. forever and before,
..before we weren't the same in their e...

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Echoeslove poetrypoetrypoetry eventwriterwritingwriting poetrywriting walk

Visitor

entry picture

Take me through your mind,
through all the things we need to face,
broken trails hard to find,
full of strangers
following their paths,
protecting their days.

Take me through your land
through the eyes of different people
scattered in the dark,
with no reason for a blame, 
we are here just for a while,
our fears are all the same.

Take me through your beauty
carneval lights falling...

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aliencreative writinglove poetrypoetrywriting

Dream About Absolute Freedom

entry picture

Doesn't always have to be right
dream about absolute freedom
fading boredom, breading soil
remember the world's silence
through the spark of the time
calm and sublime, calm and sublime
dream about wisdom?...No,
dream about absolute freedom.
Changing morbid statues
around the neck of the nature
spelling words, creating magic
fading moments hard to catch them,
leaving you in thoughts, le...

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creative writing outputfreedompoetrywritingwriting poetry

Trace

entry picture

Take me away,
far from nuances of life,
far away through different times,
different truths, different minds,
hiding the dust, stretching our hands
closer to our dead, misguided breed.
Take me away from these wild,
lost in a crash, elevated rivers,
green tables, empty crowds,
part of the glory still lingers,
through laughter and torrent
it will never melt down.
Feel the emptiness as а p...

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love poetrypoetrytracewritingwriting poetry

Blue

entry picture

Blue..all the spheres inside of us
blue as the wall above trust
above wish, above lust.
Taken away by the time and our past,
blue as the street, narrow and wide
with unforgettable dancing parade
where our dark souls collide.

Blue as night on Paris streets,
dancing moonlight on the paving stones
for the time we missed and replace,
for the trust we've forever lost.

Blue...all the sphe...

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blue lightlove poetrypoetrywriting

Ink and Paper

Ink and paper,
A young boy,
A foolish little girl.
This became the beginning of my writing.

“Write what you want,” he says to me.
I do, because he knows best.
I write everything I want. 

I write worries,
I write sadness,
I write fear,
I write recovery,
I write my own lovely fantasies,
I write anger,
I write sadness and fear again.
Later I will write recovery.

He takes my ink a...

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emotionloveregretwriting

The Bleeding Edge

The razor thin space between 
stimuli and response 
is decision. 

I decided to put a  
romcom relationship
where love never ends
and be, just friends. 

It was a defining decision.

He decided that without 
certain stimuli, there would be 
no response, just an end.

Tempting as it is to give in
to conditioned responses,
I'm riding the razor's edge
into a new frontier...

A pla...

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choicefriendshiplovemusepoetsrelationshipsromcomself-respectwriter lifewriting

Naked Souls

Poetry is a 
refuge for 
a lonely life

the antidote
for pain 
and strife

warm words 
blanketing
a frigid night

tonic for thirsty sailors 
drowning in an ocean 
from which we cannot drink

To our deserted island we go 

while the world 
casts us loners, 
introverts, quiet
weird, crazy...

Let them judge 
as they wine and dine 
in crowded rooms 
on cell patrol

while w...

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cell phonesintrovertlifelonelymuseoutcastspoetryprisonsoultruthwriterwriting

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