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Showing posts from October, 2013

About Writing Poetry

About Writing Poetry These are the fellow writers and poets with whom I have discussed poetry in the past several months. I recommend reading their blogs or follow their posts for interesting content.   +Adrianna Joleigh   +Glendon Perkins   +Cherie Ambrose   +Steven Malone   +Sandi Brower   +Kay Leez   +Justin Michael Schmidt   +Jose Cervantes   +Aura Burrows   +Yolanda Isabel Regueira Marin     (If I have neglected to mention your name, please forgive me and let me know and I will correct the error!) I thought I'd share some of the advice I have shared or thoughts I have recorded concerning how I write my poems or what poetry writing is to me. In no way do I feel that I'm an expert, but I thought I'd share these with you all. Some of these points are from exchanges I've had with some of you about writing poems; you may recognize the comments. I found several poems from long ago and reworked them. That's how I got back into writing poems. I

Stella Pulls

Stella Pulls Stella pulls on her cigarette like she pulls on the hearts of all of her lovers. The same way she inhales them, draws the life from them, and sucks the air out of them. Stella pulls on her cigarette like she pulls on the hearts of all of her lovers. She lures them in with her husky voice, the way she moves and the way she seems to be almost spilling out of her clothes. Her long, silky blond hair hangs in waves about her shoulders and men get dizzy in the ebb and flow of the locks while she walks through a room. They end up in a stupor and unable to talk. Stella pulls on her cigarette like she pulls on the hearts of all of her lovers. She seems to hypnotize them with her soft, beautiful blue eyes. They stare, mesmerized, unable to break eye contact once they gaze deep into them. Their eyes glaze over as if in a trance. Stella pulls on her cigarette like she pulls on the hearts of all of her lovers. She intoxicates them with her fragrance. She smells like honeysuck

Words are doorways

Words are doorways Words are doorways, ways to escape. Past, present,  and future await. Words are portals,  to ancient,  long dead places, or future, mysterious alien races. Words are windows,  to open minds, unshuttered hearts  unreached parts. Words are portholes, to oceans wide, shores to sail, waves to ride. Words are planes, for boundless souls, for soaring spirits, where heaven rules. Words are passages, to travel abroad, trains, planes, cars or rocket-ships to the stars. Words are stairways, to unscaled heights, sunlit days, glittering nights. Words are mazes, where one gets lost, why answers sought, where answers thought. A world without books, is a loss of ages, loss of sages, like burning libraries, like Alexandria, a multi-verse of worlds to never visit. © 2013 ajwrites57 A Long ❤  ❤  ❤  If you enjoyed this poem, you can find more   here.

am i not the you you knew?

am i not the you you knew? where is yesterday's friend,   the one that vowed to love, to the very end? where is yesterday's love,   the one that vowed eternal love? is today's friend destined to travel the same path, too? is today's friend tomorrow's used to be, too? why do friendships come and go?   am i the bad guy you used to know? you took a part of this broken heart,   a thousand pieces strewn about. the time we spent, the days we shared,   it surely seemed you cared. a person here, a person there,   now you're gone to who knows where. once i tried to name you all,   left me sad, beneath a funerary pall.   once i tried to forget you all,   you visit me in my dreams and all. you visit me there, but never here,   at times i wake and i'm in tears. when i wake it hits me that   forgotten times have turned to crimes. i knew you once you knew me too,   now you're gone and you're not you. am i not the you y

Leibster Award Nomination

Vashti Quiroz-Vega  nominated me for this award sometime ago. I humbly accept her nomination! Vashti is a thoroughly engaging blogger and a kind person. She has a novel that you can find here:  The Basement The rules for accepting the Liebster Blog Award: 1- List eleven random facts about yourself. 2- Nominate eleven other bloggers. 3- Notify these bloggers. 4- Ask eleven questions that the bloggers must answer upon accepting the award. 5- Answer the eleven questions that you were asked when you were nominated. 6- Link back to the person who nominated you. Eleven Random Facts About Me: 1. I make superb omelettes. 2. I mainly use the Pour Over Method to make coffe. 3. I love snow. 4. I hate the cold. 5. I love to swim. 6. I hate water (just kidding). 7. I like to drive. 8. I hate traffic. 9. I was included in:  Who's Who Among Students in American Colleges and Universities. 10. I love the Philippines. 11. I often dream I can fly. QUESTIONS F

The Cave Clan

To quote the geniuses from Monty Python's Flying Circus: And Now for Something Completely Different   I came up with the first few lines as a writing prompt to post in a community in which I  participate   It promptly was ignored. Well, except for a few comments.  "Good morning, you epic result of 500 million years of Evolution."  +Kevin Moriarty   "Lol. A cross between Literature and biology with a hint of psychology thrown in :)"  +Roerich Warton   +Aura Burrows  has written some similar pieces on her website. So I continued working on it myself. What do you think? The Cave Clan He stood upright, his opposable thumb and hand grasped the large femur bone that he had gnawed clean in the night, and gazed across the grassy plain. He strode quietly though the encampment, near the cave his clan used to store items which served as a haven for the women and children, in case of attack by beasts or another clan. The fire's embers still glowed

She carries

She carries She carries my baby quite low. Her face shines, a ruddy glow. She craves a late night meal. Her face puckers, such appeal! She has eyes that sparkle and grin. Her heart’s so big to fit him in. She writes words in a secret diary. Her loving still remains quite fiery. She keeps some thoughts deep inside. Her smile spreads, deep and wide. She takes walks at dawn, alone. Her moods make me smile and groan. She sometimes laughs then cries, Her tears bring some to my eyes. She counts the days on a chart. Her plans include a blissful start. She mostly laughs and waits. Her giggles make me levitate. She moves with grace, even so full. Her face puffed with life so whole. She dreams at night, baby kicks. Her face belies his stomach tricks. She sleeps for hours and hours. Her face goes nova at baby showers. She fills his room with baby things Her finger's too big for our rings. She counts the days until he

As I Settle In

As I Settle In The sun sets as I settle in, at my desk, to set words to paper. A warm, gentle, summer breeze gently brushes my face. I gaze out at the azure, magenta, pink, and yellow sunset. Gently swaying tree branches are silhouettes against the evening sky. Letters gather, congregate and gleefully set themselves onto the page. The first stars twinkle into view as my hand caresses words on the paper. I breathe the words and lines which appear, as music carries me along. The soft violin serenades my ears and moves my heart with it. Images pulse within my brain like a soothing, gentle massage. Ideas flow through my pen, float and flutter onto the page. Soft white clouds disappear as dusk slowly pushes lower, toward nightfall. My nose fills with the fragrant bouquet of the fruit of the grape. My tongue welcomes the delicious liquid as is passes over my palate. Senses are heightened and stimulated, as the moon smiles down on me. Phrases, metaphors, similes saunter co

falling without a net

 falling without a net     Love is like a high wire-act, tumbling like an acrobat, falling without a net. Your eyes are like velvet pools, I'd dive in like so many fools, But I'm afraid of falling without a net. Your lips are like soft, satin sheets, I'd lie down where sweet skin meets, But I'm afraid of falling without a net. Your skin is like downy feathers, I'd wear them in winter weather, But I'm afraid of falling without a net. You smile is like a summer rainbow, I'd like to bask in its colorful warm glow, But I'm afraid of falling without a net. Your heart is warm and tender, I'd love to feel its fullest splendor, But I'm afraid of falling without a net. Love is like a high wire-act, tumbling like an acrobat, falling without a net. © 2013 ajwrites57 A Long Photo by:  http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File%3AAcrobat.jpg If you enjoyed this poem, fi

a poet writes

a poet writes a poet writes to rhyme, or not. a poet shares a line, a thought. a poet pens a word, for naught. a poet types words, unsought. a poet weaves with words, a web. a poet feels the flow, the ebb. a poet hears beats and rhymes. a poet knows days and times. a poet listens to the earth. a poet speaks to give words birth. a poet sparks internal fire. a poet breathes to inspire. a poet touches hearts, minds. a poet voices what he finds. a poet places what he knows. a poet takes you where he goes. © 2013 ajwrites57 A Long ❤  ❤  ❤  Photo by:  http://mrg.bz/Mg8yv0   If you liked this poem find more   here

Friends are like fingers

Friends are like fingers Friends are like fingers, and you are the thumb, always beside you, whatever may come. Friends are like fingers, For good for or ill, rely on their help, whatever we will. Friends are like fingers, and you are the thumb, trustworthy, true blue, always close, near to you. Friends are like fingers, always so dear, persist in patience, whatever we fear. Friends are like fingers, and you are the thumb, hid deep in your heart, never depart. Friends are like fingers, fingers are friends, giving abounds whatever life sends. © 2013 ajwrites57 A Long ❤ ❤ ❤ Photo by: By dhannte Find more of my writing here.

Sisyphus Sadness

Sisyphus Sadness i feel the sadness of the world sitting firmly on my heart, emotions stifled, rifled, rent and worn, from the start. i feel the sadness of the world fitted firmly on my back, staggering, stumbling, i take a step onto the aimless track. i feel the sadness of the world pressing, pounding in my head, thoughts of maudlin madness, thinking unsoundly, full of dread. i feel the sadness of the world stinging, burning my eyes, seeing, watching, staring, lonely, lonesome tears and cries. i feel the sadness of words ringing loudly in my ears, sounding, resounding, hearing the woeful voices of the years. i feel the sadness of the world pulling profoundly on my soul, powerful passions, pulsing, probing, plundering, leave me un-whole. i feel the sadness of the world placed implacably in the center of my palms, weighted worries, willful, woeful, and wieldy, positioned without qualms. i feel the sadness of the world dragging, draped around my feet,

A Poet's Seasons

A Poet's Seasons A Poet hears the springtime rain, beating down, on window pane. To words he puts the pleasing sound, words to please, rhythmic round. A Poet feels the summer sun, beating down, on everyone. To words he puts the brilliant sight, words to please, shining bright. A Poet sees the autumn leaves, falling down, among the trees. To words he puts the colors’ glow, words to please, awesome show. A Poet touches the winter snow, flaking down, the season's slow. To words he puts the pulsing white, words to please, blinding light. A Poet smells the springtime flowers, growing now, in April showers. To words he puts the bursting hues, words to please, greens, pinks and blues. A Poet swims the summer seas, the oceans’ motions, foaming ease. To words he puts the salty glory, words to please, marine-life story. A Poet sees the fall time passes, back to school, for lads and lasses. To words he puts the lessons learned, words