I was somewhat confused (and honestly, please) that the first post of this month has a bunch of read through's. I'm uncertain if it was due to content or something I may have mentioned (I'm betting on the latter). Whichever the case - hello Readers!
Today is Work In Progress day!
As you can tell I'm a bit behind in most of my personal projects. Being back in school means I have about twenty new ideas for stories and other such schemes, but little time to devote to them. (I am an avid believer in sleep. And being a night-owl. And the prospect of being a highly-functioning-slacker.)
Regardless, I've been doing some other work for class that I thought I'd share with you this week.
As mentioned before I am in a Poetry class - creative writing: poetry. It's a workshop course where every few weeks we each write 2 poems and submit them for peer review and feedback on how to make them better. At the end of the semester everything will be submitted as the final portfolio.
Please feel free to post any critiques/comments/issues about these poems. I appreciate feedback of any kind.
When Life Was Good
Tell me something I don't know
A story of when life was good.
Back when the evenings were full
of laughter. Of smiles.
A time when love never thought of dying.
Of saying hurtful untruths.
Words to demean.
Words.
Life use to be filled with kind words.
A morning of frenzied eating, lunch packing,
running for the door. The bus.
Home once more to loving hands
To a full house of those who protect
Tell me a story once shared,
When life was good.
Autumn
Nighttime comes, I dream
the world is how I imagined.
Bright-lit streets, small, comfortable
house. Easy, soft, living.
Books fill the air,
the scent of parchment and ink prolific.
Mixed fragrances of honey, pumpkin,
cinnamon; spice.
Old burned furniture.
Scarred wooden panels.
Blaze of light, cackling away.
Chocolate: hot, steamy, white clouds
floating on the surface of foam.
Complete. Relaxed.
Home.
Mansion Fire
Haunted high
Ghostly wails
Tightening shadows
Footsteps
Lingering echoes
Spinning Darkness
Grim and Grinning
Ghosts
~
Older Than Time
A tune, a melody
older than the time
around it.
Long, golden, bright
shimmers like silk.
Spinning, high on
toes.
Melodies play
around the room, deep
tones that resonate.
Night darkens,
turning the sky to ink.
Pinpoints come,
littering the ink with
gems of the universe.
A tune, a melody
older than the time
around it.
Let me know what you think. Also - anything you're working on that you want to share? Leave a comment below.
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