writing poems

Paper | Jenny Middleton

leaves paper the sky; spreading hands shielding
the blaze of a sultry day from the tinder box
crumble threading our journey through the trees
as pages turning diary like to once before
when youth’s lantern faces gleaming
we shone with song more deliciously ardent
than the apple buds’ danced imaginings.
the circle full, the trunks sawn and strange,
pressed to a paper of our own printed work
where we write of that day’s woodland walk
and those fierce rent wandering words
fixing forever breathing, igniting whole
the flame leaping blaze of those tiger thoughts
of that shady sunned apple grown afternoon.

More at https://www.jmiddletonpoems.com/.

Keep Writing | Donetta Sifford

Keep writing.
When morning carries
songs of birds on sunshine,
keep writing.
As night wraps darkness
around your tired body,
keep writing.
If you’ve bled on paper
only to receive rejection,
keep writing.
Friends may politely scan
over your words unsmiling,
keep writing.
Even if you write to clear
your head, mindfulness,
meditation, for your peace
of mind and your sanity,
keep writing.

More at https://donettas.wordpress.com/.

When the Blaze Begins | Heath Brougher

There are occasions when
that ever-burning flicker
of a flame is suddenly swept up
by gale-force inspiration and grows
into giant whorls of blazing creativity
as the mind sheds its inner turbulence
and spills it out onto the canvass of the page.
During these moments that little flicker
suddenly spreads into a scorching
wildfire of thoughts, its flames lashing out
like fiery orange fangs biting upward at the sky.

More at https://www.facebook.com/heath.brougher.

The Poem Seekers Reapers & Re-Writers | Vincent Von Ellesmere

The poem seekers reapers & re-writers.

There’s a secret society of time served master poets.

They flood social media
Like a plague upon groups & pages
They hunt out new blood
fresh meat,
new poets all over the World,
They take down your poems with their paper & pens,
their quills ink & Parchments,
they copy & past,
there’s never an end,
Their time served
master poets of old,

They’ve developed a writers block of crippling anxiety in their minds,
drawn a blank in their once original creative minds & their once original way with words & thoughts,
So they search out young blood
fresh meat from the poetic world of outstanding creativity,
To make the masters feel young once again,
Re-writing your poetry,
Re-wording your poetry,
Until your originals look,
as if they’ve been written by an uneducated clown,
Watch out watch out for the seekers reapers & re-writers are on the hunt, you could be next, I know I am.

More at https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3298430/the-seekers-reapers-re-writers/.

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