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Withered The Storm

You were this horrible dark cloud
That came rushing in
disguised as the sunshine
Just with a slight dim
You spread Ray's of lies all over me
Washing me with a fairytale
That would soon end  tragically
When the truth was discovered
You began to thunder loudly
Making rippling BOOMS
That shook my entire body
You may have rainbows on you
But your not my pot of gold
Having issues standing
...

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Paper Friends

 

Leaving seems so hard

Until you actually leave

 

The peculiar truth is

Leaving feels ludic, orphic, majestic

Leaving the places which seemed to matter

Leaving the paper people I once met

Leaving, forgiving & moving forward

 

What a trouvaille I encountered

To leave the paper connection

Leaving them as they are, incomplete & rustic

Leaving them in the ocean ...

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Tears of a Poet

When I think of Carlos, 
a beautiful soul of a man, 
emotional, heartfelt poetry bleeds through 
Tears creep on the brink of every reading 
His hand held over his heart to keep it in 
He makes a mark wherever he goes 
The rhythm of his words flow 
And it leaves you speechless 
All you can mouth is ‘wow…’ 

Pondering over poems to capture what I believe in 
A work of art always in progre...

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writingdreamspoetry

Desolation of Z


Dark and bleak and empty and bare
This life is hard.. I hate it here.
Voided, eroded, saddened... barren of joy
Helpless, hopeless, soulless... a plain white wall
Mopey, lonely, gloomy...why even try
Hungerless, Sleepless, motionless...I might just die
Drowning, not breathing, cant gasp for air
Quiet pain, drenched in rain, not one care
Deserted, isolated, distressed and bored
want to, ...

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Holly Hagg

Pen devoid of poems
adventure long overdue
living room carpet
growing long in the tooth
I’m pining for movement
so keen to get out
I’ll go walking down
to Holly Hagg

Little glimpses at normality
haloed by golden rays
There’s no poison 
in the idle river
no politics
in the quiet horse
cantering to 
another chew

The clouds of working day
part while I’m out walking
bathed in nat...

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Echoes

Resistance is futile. 

You will not find rest

as long as I am near, 

whispering in your ear. 

 

STOP,  right now.

Write now. 

 

Talk about how 

love echoes 

in the valley of 

lost souls. 

 

Share your hopes, 

dreams, fears. 

 

I’m listening, 

channeling, 

ready to bathe you, 

in serenity. 

 

I am your muse, 

voice of truth, 

your...

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TRYING..

She was trying

Trying to be calm

Trying to mute the

Monologue inside her mind.

 

Full of contradictions to herself,

Full of arguments

Full of endless thoughts

 

She felt like being pulled

In a spiral

Down and down and down

With each breath she took

Swallowing her own soul

 

As if she split up

Into two halves

Halves against each other

She was he...

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One Hundred Days In Plague Town

One Hundred Days In Plague Town

 

I met a man in Plague Town

With bird’s beak and a long black coat

He carried a cane in his left hand

He spoke to me and I quote:
‘Don’t travel far from your fire son

Go runaway and hide

For Fear stalks the streets of Plague Town

Some are ill and others have died’

 

So I went back home as he told me

And I sat and counted the days

...

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A keen eye's woe

A misplaced comma, 

an extra apostrophe,

page numbers missing;

a million little things to fix

 

that ought not to

take away the aura

of the piece but make me

stop and scream

 

How reckless

to leave the reader in such a mess

when they should only

focus on the very best

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editingpoetryreadingwriting

Did I Ever Tell You...

I’m digging through letters for clues 
For endearments that will fill my cup

They spill over and fall away
As they come in with a rush

Too many to grasp
I pick them up one by one

In hopes to hold onto
Little pieces of you

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love letterswritingreadinglovers

SHE

when out

she was known for her

goofiness,

infectious smile,

non stop chattering

and childish charisma.

 

but inside the walls of her room

she was the one,

with puffy red eyes,

bloody wrists,

broken heart,

and lost soul.

 

 

       k.d

 

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poetrywritingpainmiseryreality

Unsent letters

How many love letters do I have to write before they are sent
How many hours do I spend and lament
Over the impossible dream
The one that can’t be seen
And more and more it seems
Like it’s never going to be

 

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dreamslove lettersloverswriting

I’m grateful

I’m grateful for

 

breathing 

fighting

healing

smiling

 

I’m grateful I chose to live.

 

                     k.d

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painpastlifepoetrywriting

Was it so hard to love her?

She was broken,

her soul was falling apart.

 

You were the cause,

yet she kept on loving you.

 

She took all the pain, all the suffering,

in hope that you'll change one day.

 

Months passed by,

and her soul became hollow.

 

She was getting suffocated,

but all she craved was your love.

 

You betrayed her not once not twice but so many times,

but she t...

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Fandango

A magenta sky 
greets my morning sigh.

Another majestic day, 
lost in the minutia of life.

Shoulda, coulda,woulda,
paralyzing dream sabers. 

Distractions abound.

Download another book,
refresh the poet's page.

Escape, behind a waterfall
of tears.

Long nights,
paved years. 

Fandango memories
sustain me. 

Resilience 
prevails.

Dry your eyes,
face your fears.

Wr...

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Alexis karpouzos : The mystic journey

Our home, a pale blue dot in the vastness of universe's untouched beauty, a tiny, spherical world, afloat in a immensity of space and time. Here for a moment, and then we're leaving for the eternity. In the school of mortality we learn to acrobat over the abyss.
Alexis karpouzos

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Writer’s Block Strikes Again

Gather jumbled up thoughts
jot down some words
numerous adjectives,
superlatives, and delicious nouns

 

Describe the scene
that can explain
it is certainly this
but it could be better

 

Conjure up a lost love
hint at a depth of longing,
fulfillment, and regret
but give yourself some credit

 

Leave readers with faith,
love eventually wins
love yourself enough to see
yo...

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writers blockwritingpoetry

Magyk

Magyk

 

I had a book all full of spells

Where childhood magic

Weaved its way

Between the yellowed pages

 

Where dragon’s breath

Set woodland glades alight

And lost children danced

With the frightened and the fey

 

The teeth of angry wolves

Chewed at the edges

Whilst chattering little demons

Clawed along your spine

 

Strange apples fell from wizene...

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napowrimo2018day 8magiccreationchildhoodreadingwritingimaginationstory teller

Creativity Costs

You are enough. 

Insecurity or 

grandiose confidence 

isn’t necessary. 

Doubt, distraction, 

procrastination, fear, 

impostor syndrome,

borderline lunacy... 

are costs of the 

creative process.

Keep creating 

through it all.

But, then again,

what do I know.

https://youtu.be/sIaT8Jl2zpI

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artconfidencecreativityinsecuritymusicpoetryprocrastinationwriting

Entirety (The Whole)

The sights of ourselves still shape us to divide,
immediate response to the craves and madness,
we feel the way we feel but tonight it's you inside,
burried in the senses out of the lightness.

And days are still days but the trouble collides,
for all the reasons we chose not to revile,
and all our fears, childlish alike,
echoing through our minds, rejecting denial.

Stay where you are a...

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She's Snow White

Not So White 

Little Snow White's daddy died 
Pretty girl cried and cried
Wicked Queen an ugly old tart 
Sent huntsman to take her heart

Huntsman took Snow for a ride 
But felt ever so guilty inside
Snow looked up and made her plea Huntsman said, ‘Go now! Be free’

He took his knife; he lit a cig 
Then cut heart out of a pig
Snow White ran he felt good 
She tripped over piece of wo...

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poetrycreativewritingwriting poetryhumour

Embers

I want to tell you how incredibly

imaginative, creative, talented

I think you are with your poetry,

writing, music, art...

but I hesitate to expose our

eggshell-covered egos, 

fuel rejection, 

ignite impostor syndrome...

all live wires 

that threaten to electrocute

our fragile muse 

into submission 

of a numbed,

comfort-zone life. 

So, instead of shouting

...

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Resistance

And tides are still the same as they were,
fluid numbers, one piece in folded milions,
telling us why we all need to reach the bottom,
embracing drops of broken brilliance.

Wait until it all comes down,
your whispers rest in front of the broken Avalon,
inside our shell is something we all found,
blue-red pictures reflected by the dawn.

And tides are still the same as they were,
connec...

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creative writingearth poetrylove poetrypoetrysad poetrytideswritingwriting poetry

The writing process

It's always the same New Year's resolutions for me...to write more often! Happy New Year to all ...

At First

Just a thought

Then some paper

The words

They came later

QWERTY was flirting

But kindly 

I declined

It's demand

Held a pen

In my hand

And began

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New YearWritingResolution

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