Writing While Walking, by Stephen McGuinness

Stephen McGuinness makes me happy humans were given the gift of words and thought.  To read more of Stephen’s work, please visit poetry with a small p. “Quiet confounds me. I search through a Clam-tight mind To find something, A thing, a piece, a collection Of words, to explain, To describe, to myself Most of all, what, If anything, is going on. Hush rushes, quietly, Through … Continue reading Writing While Walking, by Stephen McGuinness

On Poetry: (are we) sprung; from Pleasant Street, Are You Thrilled

Please enjoy this poem by one of my favorite Poets: let us run (hard) it is not yet summer but the sun is burning my shoulder and the clouds hang back waiting for a sign all buds bursting let us not (give up) stay between walls of ivy each caveat they hurl weighs tons–up against daffodils in your sunglasses and tulips–and rose oil dabbed behind … Continue reading On Poetry: (are we) sprung; from Pleasant Street, Are You Thrilled

Rain on my Face — Writing from poetry with a small p.

It isn’t until I read Stephen’s poetry that I realize how dry and dull life can be without words like his to lift the heart, or make one cry, as the case may be. He has never yet failed to bring a smile to my face or tears to my eyes. Few people are as gifted as Stephen McGuinness. Fine, cold rain paints my face. … Continue reading Rain on my Face — Writing from poetry with a small p.

Every Night With You

Enchanted by the stars, like smelling roses, Anticipating the rush of a meteor flash Or Saturn’s rings in full-on view and Europa, Like Andromeda’s spiral, in ageless lights of time, And my heart pumps a million times a minute When sun bids day adieu amidst a host of glory, And that spinning dance and flash of white That reveals your teeth in brilliant, ecstatic smile … Continue reading Every Night With You

The Melody Of Your Soul

Originally posted on Writers Envy:
I read music in your eyes, Delicate chorale filled your voice, The melody of your soul, Breathed hymn into my life; Each movement measured note by note, Dancing fingers played across my keys, ‘Twas not a symphony filled the silence, But a quartet caressing strings; Hosannas rose into the night, Angelic host proclaimed, Cantata filled my ears, Notes kissed me… Continue reading The Melody Of Your Soul

Mirror

Lines, creases, crinkles Wrinkles, crow’s feet Haunted eyes Joyless smile Emptiness and sorrow The wonder whys Regrets Mirror receives them all Graying hair, Bags Dark circles Neck once nuzzled by Lovers and babies Sagging skin Sinking heart Withering hopes Curse the years Look at me Look at me See? See? You are what you see See beauty See love See wonder Hold your head up … Continue reading Mirror

Cubism

Cubism Angles Corners Planes Perspective Front Back Side Side Up Down Above Beneath Inside Outside Around Within Without Through Trans-dimensional Complex Permeable, Impenetrable Fixed, Moving Opaque, Transparent Open, Closed Masked, Unmasked Active, Still Lost, Alert Quiet Quiet Quiet Loving, Hurtful Laughing, Crying Frowning, Smiling Joyful, Sad Gloomy, Gleeful Ecstatic, Pained Tears joyful Tears hurtful Tears sad Tears Tears Tears Tears Tears Smiling Loving Angry Loving … Continue reading Cubism

Rejected. Spurned. Snubbed. Repudiated.

A poetry site rejected seven poems I submitted for consideration. The editor thanked me for submitting my work and remarked that “It was a pleasure to read. However, we regret to say that it doesn’t quite fit our daily menu.” Ouch. Seven rejections with one salvo. The submission guidelines encouraged poets to send “your best work” since publishing space was tight. Ouch.Ouch.Ouch.Ouch.Ouch.Ouch.Ouch. Rejected AND repudiated. … Continue reading Rejected. Spurned. Snubbed. Repudiated.

Re-Blog: Elegy for a Drowned Girl

Exquisitely painful and beautiful. For a moment, echoes over the ocean sound your obituary — these jagged cliffs are your gravestones, and perhaps the algae the rolling waves offer to the shoreline is the water’s apology. For sending your casket deep into the corals. For seasoning the ocean salty with your panic. For surging your lifeless limbs away from […] via Elegy for a Drowned Girl … Continue reading Re-Blog: Elegy for a Drowned Girl

Home. With me.

The old, old house stands brooding, silent, empty, shuttered. Peeling paint, peeling memories, peeling years, decaying. Squeaking gate unhinged, cracked stone steps, black holes gape between them, Give way to wild rose and dandelions, crabgrass, spurge and apples. Skinned shins on broken porch boards; cobwebs make me shrink. Ancient knocker of green-tinged brass, dolphins dancing on their tails. Quiet the knocker, there’s no one home, … Continue reading Home. With me.

Proofread, Proofread, Poofread

Proofreading your work is the most important action you can perform before pressing the publish button. An error-free post sends an unconscious signal to the reader that you care about your writing. I can’t count the times I have found a beautiful post, especially a poem, ruined over a misspelled  word, an incomplete phrase, or another grammatical error. The flow is brought up short and … Continue reading Proofread, Proofread, Poofread

Writing Music, or, Music to Write By

I don’t often listen to music while I write. I find it distracting. It isn’t that I don’t like music, indeed, I love music and have rather eclectic tastes. I enjoy most genres. My music of choice while writing though, is silence. Silence has its own sound. The sound of the story taking shape in my mind. When I write and enter “the zone,” I … Continue reading Writing Music, or, Music to Write By

November Evening in Dublin

Originally posted on Writing from poetry with a small p.:
? Dry leaves of sycamores have Fallen to the navvies’ excavations. Evening, cold, is rolled across The city’s winter-glow gloom. Unlit Christmas, manhandled Into place, hangs sullenly, waiting For the sparked, switch-flick That turns it on to life. Cyclists, in their righteous Superiority, glance over fearful Shoulders at dark behemoth buses That push and press… Continue reading November Evening in Dublin