Let us all rejoice and celebrate the festival of colours and bring in the sense of togetherness and connectivity. Happy Holi to you all!
'The lovely fragrance of flowers Pervades the whole atmosphere Ceramic pots of little violets hang Against the indigo coloured screens Adorning the living room while The blue bells thrive in the garden beds Alongside pleasing green ferns The yellow buttercups do attract attention As do the orange marigolds in full bloom But in this colourful garden The deep red rose still retains Pride of place' - Sandra Martyres
What feelings, ideas, objects, events or memories do you associate with various colors? Apply color meanings to scenes, settings and tone in your poem or story. Tag with #rainbow and share.
Give your story a title. Create a beginning, middle and end. Use a mix of dialogues and narration.Use characters (protagonists) to tell your story. Remember, a story about loss doesn't necessarily have to be a tragedy.
Do you know that the word FLUMMOX means perplex (someone) greatly; bewilder.
✓ Use the word FLUMMOX in a sentence. ✓Post in the comments section.
'Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those who have personality and emotion know what it means to want to escape from these.' - T.S. Eliot
Do you know that the word LAGNIAPPE means something given as a bonus or gratuity.
✓Use the word LAGNIAPPE in a sentence. ✓Post in the comments section.
The girl out of the mirror Looks sad and pale that’s how she'll die Alone and frail The girl in the mirror smiling is she She looks happy and joyful Why shouldn’t she be The girl out of the mirror Unhappy in life Is upset with herself Keeps watching her knife The girl in the mirror is Smiling Joking Buying The girl out of the mirror is Sighing Weeping Dying' - Naomi Burdett
Do you like what you see? Can a mirror really tell you what you look like? Do you have a favorite mirror and how often do you look at it? Does your reflection stare back at you asking questions? Many people are not satisfied with what they see as their reflection? What about you?
Do you know that the word SPECTRAL means of or like a ghost.
✓ Use the word SPECTRAL in a sentence. ✓Post in the comments section.
'In the dark of night, moon hidden from sight Large snowflakes in flight and transcending white Come morning's twilight, ice crystals ignite They sparkle so bright as sun rays excite The song birds unite, and softly invite On the heart it writes , a poet's delight' -Daniel Turner
Monorhyme is a passage, stanza, or entire poem in which all lines have the same end rhyme. Monorhymes are a common feature in Latin, Welsh, and Arabic poetry.
Do you know that the word CRUX means the decisive or most important point at issue.
✓ Use the word CRUX in a sentence. ✓Post in the comments section.
Spread like moondust across a damaged surface, You departed into the unknown of the night, disappearing within layers of darkness. Memories turned into ashes and flew away with the wind, Treacherous betrayal often hurts more than the sharp end of a knife. Words spoken in darkness Proclaimed from the hilltops Obscure sentiments Treasures to share as tear drops Shimmering light engulfed me Prying open my stubborn eyes in the onyx darkness. My glassy heart has long turned to stone, And so the only sound of shattering I am able to hear is my bones. In this vagrant silence, The sick moon breathes, A scrape across the night And dice roll down the spine. My eyes are wide open And misery I still see, But when I close them, I am home. While the warm winds drift along with the stars, I climb up the sky, And blend into the night. Wrapped myself in stillness, Embracing freedom, While soothing my aching soul. This darkness will be my mantle...
I write a sunset in my mind, as the sun slowly undresses the sky, layer by layer. she's no longer white, no longer blue, she's a burning orange, a shy pink. She makes love with the fingers of a widow.
But I've written this before. In another life. In another body. Somebody has. This borrowed language gnaws away at me. I lie in a bed of words born in another's throat, moulded with another's fingers. The linguists of the past deny me the ego of a creator. But then again, what is truly mine. Proprietorship is merely a coin rolling down a vending machine.
I have my back to the metaphors of every dead poet who sat on this bench. Glory is forgotten, names are forgotten, words are forgotten too. The clouds hover in a voiceless mourning, a veil for the widowed sky. They remain a ghostly white even in the darkness.
I have been absent for a fair few weeks, no? I am sorry. I really am. I could not write anything, except something I wrote about 6 months ago. I still find myself unable to write, but I'm pushing through somehow.