absorbing aiming attaching
chewing chasing clicking crashing clinging
diving dancing disengaging
echoing ebbing emulating
falling flicking fornicating
grazing gagging galloping gallivanting gathering gesturing
jogging jiggling jostling
kneeling kissing kneading
lollygagging leaping loaping
mooing melting meshing munching
quaking quivering quavering
rolling running romping rumbling
screeching slithering swimming stalking spreading swishing shifting
tumbling teeming tip-toeing
wagging whipping writhing
yanking yawning yodeling
Ive requested a certificate of participation via my email address. Sent to firstname.lastname@example.org. please let me know if I did it right? My name is Angela Moondust Ely. I partcipated in the1/2 marathon.
The real secret to writing
isn’t a secret
The pros have been telling you for years
to act on your intentions
It’s about priorities
It shouldn’t be the lawn
that needs mowing
that needs washing
who needs validation
The writing comes first
No one faults the business owner
for doing business
So no one should fault the artist
for making art
it has to be
Forget about what’s for dinner
There’s always cereal
and canned soup
and some of us thrive
How do I get a certificate for participation? My name is Angela Moondust Ely. I did a 1/2 marathon. My e-mail is email@example.com. my address is 1500 west grand apt k-6 Springfield Missouri 65807
Although I did not complete the Marathon, I thoroughly enjoyed it. I look forward to next year. I am determined to finish.
Thank you for the great experience.
Asked who, as a writer, I admired most, I
ran the options: novelists, poets, playwrights
reporters, essayists, columnists, commentators,
settling on the ultimate writers-writer: Paul.
Apostling not being the most lucrative gig
Paul started out as a stringer, freelancing then
finding success at building his brand;
reporter, biographer, essayist, op-ed guru,
occasional food critic, frequent advice columnist
Versatility to be admired, at the very least
the guy consistently bent genres, poo-pooed
convention and succeeded doing it his way
A lightning rod for controversy
he always had a Tarsus on his back
Dude had all the attributes of an NYT best seller;
compelling narrative, fascinating characters,
great story hooks, intrigue and crackling dialogue.
A natural story-teller, Paul also had unique,
finely-honed insight into the human condition
Like many top writers, he also had a pseudonym
Picture Paul at a first-century Barnabas and Noble
reading from his work at an author event
though I doubt he ever autographed book copies,
posed for pictures with having waited-in-line fans
his sales figures remain high
Critics be damned!
Paul dealt with writer’s banes; constant rejection,
haggling with gutless, wishy-washy editors, he
ignored continual barbs from critics, fellow writers
Paul had it going on
Experiences and a writing career many a scribe
would kill for: embedded journalist, stellar biographer,
revered social analyst and self-help essayist, social gadfly…
he built an impressive portfolio people still thumb through
Paul had, in every way possible, the write stuff.
~ Mark Lucker
Down deep dark dreary pathways I follow
The pounding pulse, twisting violent turbulent turns
Gothic rhythms of your nightmares
Spilling spinning screaming
On aging pages
Hold me hostage
I dare not look away
I dare not leave
My blood pounding bruised beating heart
Pleads for peace and reprieve
Yet still I read
Captive to your craft
A dance with death
In velvet gowns and stolen souls
Deceptive dreams, fantastic fears
This wild madness flows
Like morphine for my writer’s soul
May I have some more?
I am a dreamer,that makes my life easier,
Dont let my existence scare, articulating my feelings is hard to unveil.
Writing poetry,can rescue my aching soul with no bail,
A writer never make it big,’cause writing poetry is emptying their hearts to regain and not much gain.
Please don’t make our dreams go down the drain,writer’s life will go in vain.
“I’m A Poet”
Dedicated: To ALL POETS around the globe. Most especially to PENTASIAN POETS
(Photo taken from:Ms. Suzette)
When poets unwind
They truly explore
To reach the edge of the horizon
Search, meet strangers as family
Where words value, kept as treasure
Saved in every single moment
Those unforgettable moment
Those risky things unwind
Those most precious treasure
Expand twinkling as it explore
Cultivating soul in every family
Not giving up staring the horizon
Almost at the edge of the horizon
Fragile, difficult, risky each moment
Tears may flow, no one to embrace a family
Scattered teardrops fall unwind
Need to sacrifice, take the risk, explore
Hoping in the end, there is treasure
Finding a treasure
Won’t see, need to take the obstacles across the horizon
Need to dream, need to believe, need to plan to explore
Value each single moment
For every single moment unwind
There, can find true family
Not a real family, but a bountiful home of family
More than a treasure
Wrap, fold, unwind
In different edge of the horizon
Shared happiness, love and moment to explore
Keep on the eye to explore
Value every single bountiful home of family
Treasured every single moment
Most especially, a love to be treasure
Across the horizon
Unforgettable moments to unwind
In life, we unwind, to struggle, sacrifice, and explore.
Keep on dreaming to reach the edge of the horizon, don’t give up, there are people who waits for us, our family.
There’s a lot of things to be treasure, but the most of it can’t be value by money, and the most memorable – unforgettable ones are those moment.
(C)seth:kw:23:18:june15,2015:ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
I was late for motherhood
the appointment was in a neighbourhood
I didn’t know hidden behind billboards
and bare-limbed trees
for years I drove the highways
but the map given me at childhood
was missing pieces
like a puzzle where someone stole
all the blue edges
I had to ask directions
the doctor made me pass a test
I flunked the first time
later he would help me study
prescribe me vitamins
tell me not to worry things would work
I tried to follow his car to where
I thought I should be
you weren’t certain you wanted to live
there in that toy-strewn house
where the large windows first beckoned
at night I would dream of infants
and their tiny whispernames
in the darkness just before light broke
I would drive myself to where
the babies might be
that rendezvous I always meant to keep
it would be years later
when two boys became men
that I would remember
how it felt to be unfinished
missing those blue pieces
it was never about motherhood
In that straight
More than 24hours awake
And working household chores
As well as to calm the mind
And relax the heart
My mind stocked to understand
What sentina is
And the clock comes lesser
To write, I have none
I’m about to stop
My mind says hop
My bed says come
My heart says write
I focused in my heart
And I followed each hole
I was challenged
Not because there were writers better than I
Not because I was a new comer in this race
It is because, here I saw diverged
Every single Tictac of the clock
A pen’s value in tact
And soul to rock
My shadow walked
As I stood
I can’t imagine
How I finished the game
Its not just a game but a plan
An undreamed run
A memorable ground
(C)seth:kw:13:46:june15,2015:ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
starting eastern time 9 am 13 June 2015
moving for expressing in each prompt
raw emotions raw verses creating
making poems creating and revising
posting for PUBLISHING
whether a half marathon or full marathon
moving creating and posting
for 12 hours 12 poems finishing a half marathon
next 12 hours begins
surely patiently eagerly moving to a great plane expedition
finishing full marathon
poets expressing themselves the sleep prompt which is final marathon prompt
ending 8 am 14 June 2015
what a blast!
adding to my humanity’s experience
kudos to organizers and fellow marathoners in this endeavor
I remember, towards the end
You asked me why I don’t tell you
You are beautiful
I thought it strange you would ask such a thing
As I recall, I told you so every day
I smiled when you ever came to mind
Which was always
When I saw you, I wouldn’t hesitate to kiss you
When you would pass by
I would embrace you
Never to let go
You said, I didn’t show it enough
I didn’t tell you enough
You were mistaken, mi amor
I told you every day
Every moment you were in my presence
Could it have been that I did not say it enough?
I won’t deny that
In my defense, though, you knew I was of few words
My heart did not reside on my sleeve
In fact, the truth is
I did not dare attempt such a feat
To tell how beautiful you are
How much more I fall in love
When you look at me
I can not encapsulate the extent of your grace
Within the mire of words
Sought and placed as markes
Upon the portrait you are
It would be as futile a thing to attempt
As it would be for anyone to describe a sunset
Try as I might have, it would be done in vain
For I could never put words to what I could never understand
It is my greatest regret
For all that we lived
For all the love we had
You could never see
The words I spoke
In ever kiss
In every look
In every moment when all I could do
Is stare in wonder
How could a wayward soul like me
Be so lucky
To find such a beautiful thing
In such an ugly world
And somehow convince it
To love me
Creation in its smallest from is something that not many people see or believe
A single event in a single time on a split from the world that has created it
But what of those things that the world has not create or refused to acknowledge
What stands between the world that exist and that of a time that has past us by
The creations we seek are not the things that catch are sight or interest
They are the things that make us invisible to the world outside
The large and small things that make us think about all the other things we see and hear
Creations of what they do make us question whether or not the world sees itself
Always wanting more than what is required
Questioning if the things we do is correct or if they lack that something special for the full creation requested
What will the world create in the absence of time and in the void of darkness
Something remembered only when fear and loneliness take over what is not seen
A creation forgot in the wake of time and the lack of all else
The world will always become something greater
And the creations that came in its wake is something that will be un-measurable in time
Yet the world will continue in its unmistakable creation of things to come
The world creates small and impossible things
Something that is and always has been forgotten to others
Things that only exist to those that take turns and watch them grow
Small things that no one can see
Or just things that that have become inconvenient to most
Those that find the world to slow in its turning and too slow to be noticed
Will never see the small things that are being made and frown in the world around
There is always something more than the big things that you can see so well
What of the sunset you see as you quietly sit on a bench under a tree
Maybe it’s the bird that wakes you in the morning as you lay in bed and smile
It could be smile you get when you have the one person say how much they care for you
The small things are what we miss the most when no one is watching
They are sometimes the beginning of the day
And at other times they end the day on a smile
The world races around itself in hopes that things will one day be better
And yet no one had come to the thought or the ides that the world’s race is what helps everyone miss the small things
To slow down and see the world as it has always been
Would be something that no one in this world is willing or wanting to do
Clearing windows. Open doors, existential rooms. View surprising, tantalizing. Unremembered dreams, endeavoring scenes. Moments recorded throughout time, different place, different lives. Expanded views from skyscraping angles, clouds that dangle. Breathtaking, painstaking, never faking, real. City living, dangerous beauty, feel. No regrets, dark nights, cold kisses. Hours fly by, drunken misses. Painstakingly pleasurable, unforgettable. Old files locked away for rainy days. What ifs, maybes, the ones that got away. Clearing windows, exhausting. Padlock, won’t cost me.
What keeps one finding that that was never done
For they cannot see the world as it should be
What finds them hunting for the wrongs that another does
How is their world held together when wrong is all they say
That which is done is never truly done as long as they see what is left behind
A world that takes only that where they find all wrong
Where can one find true bliss if it is never done their way
How does one search for that which was once for love
When what was done before was done as two
But now it lies to one to finish
Yet even when an attempt is made to make another happy
The wrong is still what is found as the day goes on
Where will one stand when their attempt is not accepted
Even if the wrong is completed it is still a wrong that was never done
The hope stands tall that one day all will be done right
But even then a wrong will be found
And yet the world will still turn to the perfection of one
But a wrong can never be right by the other
The day will go on and another wrong will be connected
But hope stands faith that the wrong will be right
And yet still a wrong will be found
Rock of all ages,
King of all stages,
Awesome in power, in honor, in gauges.
Lion of Judah,
Prince of all Heaven,
Created all things in day 6, rested 7.
Born of a virgin,
savior and servant,
name above all names, salvation determines.
Eyes were upon me,
skin crawling on me,
without protection he’ll harm me.
taken for granted,
another touch, I can’t stand it.
no longer golden,
youth betrayed, dead and molded.
That smile I saw, seen gratified draw, drawn up to the sky, sky high, high dive. Dove from above, above external love, lovely to behold, beholden probably bold. Embolden probably gold. Golden yet untold. Untold silent smile. Smile seen from a mile.
thank you for showing me i still have my heart’s blood
to dip my pen into.
there are things left unsaid
there’re colours left unseen
time – the ultimate thief and conman – shows you all
and then leaves you hobbled adn chained unable to reach as it runs out on you.
I will be gone in a year,
Progress is the only way to success
I will miss you but I have to move on with my life too.
I will visit every now and then.
Don’t make this harder than it has to be with all those tears.
It is the decision I have made.
Thank you for your support.
he induced poetry in me.
reduced me to mere words
my love; my muse.
he lef tme nowhere to hide,
nowehere to find comfort
than where i’d always found them: in words.
i bled for him,
cried for him.
my heart and soul emptied out;
not even words left
to me anymore:
I will fall in love the day I see you.
You and all four of your paws,
Your big beautiful eyes will melt me like butter,
Your golden hair, will shine even on the gloomiest of days.
My future puppy.
My future love.
My face has many flaws,
I am in no way perfect,
Nor do I strive to be.
I prefer no makeup.
I prefer a real face instead of hiding behind my insecurities.
I want to be gone,
being responsible for everything…
Whether it is my fault or not!
I just want to live already!
I want to feel ALIVE!
I want to go to concerts,
Go take a hike on one of the eight wonders of the world,
Walk on the hills of the highest mountain
Scream as loud as I can!
Have a great time with friends,
Meet someone I can love,
Meet someone who can love me right.
Have my story to tell,
With many have twists and turns
but that’s the fun part of it I believe.
And even though it may turn out to be a large mess,
I know that it would be worth everything:
the pain of love,
the stressed out finals week,
the crazy deadlines,
the wondrous words that I write about the journey of my life
Is it selfish of me?
I don’t know.
I have responsibilities:
I have younger siblings,
I have a mother who needs me,
why does it have to be this way?
I feel like I am a financial burden.
I feel like I should just earn it all on my own.
I feel like this is done.
’tis unfair, but a truth:
each time you break, you break somewhere other than you thought you knew how to heal/to deal with from before.
in this, there is no experience and practice makes perfect that will help:
each time you break differently, at a different spot,
And what you knew before, doesn’t work.
This is how you are altogether broken.
I forget the world I once had as a child that grew
The imagination that was created in the world’s that I wrote
At a time when escaping the world around me was a better choice
When things where different and the world was simpler
As long as the time was available and no one was around
I escaped to a world that was all of my own
A place that I could make things as I wanted
In a time that I could lose minutes on top of hours on top of days
My world was something that could help me and hinder me
For the world that I create could be a place I could never leave
From character to character and day to day
Once I was inside and caught the outside world would just melt away
As to why I left that world I will never know
And the more I try the less of the world I see
To become lost in a world that was once me
When can I find my true self
And where will I be when that world comes crashing on me
I wait for the waves that once over came me
That closed around me and invaded everything I was
For the creativity that was once my whole world
Where will my creativity come from and when
I am ready for wave upon wave of worlds to create
And for a time that I can lose minutes upon hours upon days