Posts tagged ‘Creative Writing’

December 9, 2018

The Word

by Jem Croucher

I found a word
It was quite small
In fact it wasn’t
much at all
But when I added
it to others
It blossomed with
it’s new found brothers

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December 8, 2018

Echoing

by John S

I’ve got no poem today, but it must be okay.
I’ve thought about monkeys, how walruses play,

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December 1, 2018

Seasonal

by John S

The leaves lay spread amidst a coverlet of snow-
one a bit early, the other late in season

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November 17, 2018

Earnest

by John S

Having arrived, definitively,

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November 3, 2018

The issue

by John S

The paper product, emergent from the box-
standing at attention, waiting on the swap,

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October 27, 2018

Wood matters

by John S

Smoke arises from the chimney stack
in billows
from an untended burn.

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September 8, 2018

Listen

by John S

I’ve spent the week listening to songs
and paying tribute to old movie stars.
Ol’ Gator and the Crewe are gone,
the coffee pot is growling on.

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September 3, 2018

Break

by John S

Here waiting for the sunrise while I dwell in morning’s dim –
my harboring of hope is ill and sweating in its sin.

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July 28, 2018

arise and sing

by John S

Of leaves,
liven up their dance
a rustling disturbance.

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July 24, 2018

Lumbolesh

by John S

Seeking the sun and feeling the sky,
the bumbledy centipede swerves and winds by –

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July 8, 2018

Symmetry

by John S

I spent the day pruning a tree,
its branches wild, a sprawling siege

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July 5, 2018

Putty

by Megha's World

“Even the most
beautiful
of the stars
are taken
for granted
night after
night.”
― Veronika Jensen

karen-maes-310484-unsplash.jpg

My heart is 

broken,

smashed,

squelched

countless

times

broken,

shattered,

splintered 

in million pieces

it has suffered enough

no amount of assurance 

and a lesson in life 

can keep it 

from 

shredding,

tearing,

breaking

How do you survive?

read more »

July 1, 2018

Formula

by John S

Life gets ahold and it herds, when all told
the work of the poem is always tenfold.

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June 9, 2018

Maybe

by John S

There is a secret around the corner
that the roses will be red instead of pink;

the sunset and sunrise will both illuminate
the dark moments – far more eloquently than any word.

There are remnants of language,
The laughter of loved ones and strangers
are beauty in a spattered world –
and strung-together notes of the discordant are melodious when unfurled.

There is a depth in every eyeful gathered from a window
and a coolness in the soil grasped by each hand.

You feel the heat that summer’s afternoon conceives,
and I hear the whiskers of October’s morning in the leaves.

There are shadows that crawl in the day
and charming smiles that ornament a night.

And this is truth’s impassioned plea to our humanity,
and affirms the secrets we sometimes cannot see –
perhaps, life is our communal way to share
and maybe, each one of us is rare.
******
The events of this past week have weighed heavily on me – the loss of two very successful, highly creative individuals to suicide, and the realization that this type of hopelessness impacts far more people than we know/understand. There is such beauty and importance in life, and each one of every one of us has a rare gift to share with others. Remember this.
Wishing you all a wonderful week.

May 28, 2018

Triple threat

by John S

Three of them, wandering off at the barbecue:
Jonathan, Allison, Rebecca Williston
didn’t remain for the hot dogs and chili sauce
wanderlust leveled a lure at this crew.

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May 20, 2018

Spoken

by John S

My words disappeared under the moonlight,
The sounds of dissipation fading fast
to quiet in a cavernous depiction,
a blank homage to the universal past.

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May 5, 2018

Tide

by John S

Coming now, in a swath of yellow,
this rising tide of dandelions.

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April 22, 2018

Caves

by John S

I never said much, but always wished more.

I often walked far, yet attended to less –

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April 21, 2018

POEM: Users

by merlinspielen

crumbled parchment on the floor
words rejected now once more;

the roses you sent long dead
soft red petals hard faded;

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April 17, 2018

POEM: Poverty

by merlinspielen

He stands on the median,
wearing a cardboard sign.
Politely asking strangers,
if they could just be so kind.

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April 14, 2018

Analog

by John S

It’s at times like this,
when morning slides across in its straw-yellow light –
that I am slow enticed to rise
and invite the day into my life.

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April 8, 2018

Cobblestones

by John S

We played as we hopped on a path made of cobblestones,
working to miss tripping up on the wobbly ones-
teetering remnants of geological dawn.

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April 8, 2018

POEM: Halomancy

by merlinspielen

Take hold of this bottle of simple table salt,
feel the surface both solid and smooth resting in your palm,
know that this salty white chemical mix is the spark of want,
Can’t you feel the pull of desire in the looks we share?

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March 25, 2018

Dyad

by John S

It’s careful planning
in open seasons,
speeding on the highway-
none are most enchanting
than sultry evenings.

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March 17, 2018

Interval: A Cento

by John S

I was asking myself:
will I be like this? How will I manage?

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March 10, 2018

Layering

by John S

First, lay down a crumble of moments in a dish,
childhood memories and first visions evoked –
if you have them – mix them with a butter
sauce of retention.

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March 1, 2018

Snippet

by Megha's World
What goes inside the mind of a mother who sees the snapshot of her unborn baby for the first time. It’s an overwhelming and indescribable feeling. 
daiga-ellaby-154928.jpg

I got a snippet, a sneak preview 

a short glance at you

in the snapshot they took

floating away in the warm embrace of my body

sleeping in the deepness of my soul

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February 27, 2018

A Writer’s fear

by Megha's World
kelly-sikkema-374737-unsplash.jpg
I’m trying to balance these words
on the tip of the lead
so precariously
where they tip and falters
and every single word, every syllable
every article
loses its balance
it’s epicenter
and starts falling off
falling off at the edges
in the deep abyss of the unknown
where I can’t seem to salvage them anymore
they are lost in the numb darkness
stumbling in every nook and corner
and can’t  seem to find their way
back
to me
where they can start to make
sense together again.