Happy birthday, Stéphane Mallarmé! Here are some quotes from his writing. “The world was made in order to result in a beautiful book.” “It is in front of the paper that the artist creates himself.” “We do not write poems with ideas, but with words.” “I am inventing a language […]
via Stéphane Mallarmé on Art, Language, Writing, Poetry, and More. — BIG OTHER
What do poets wanting to bring out new works DO at this time? Happenstance poetry publisher, Helena Nelson was shocked to receive “business as usual” proposals from poets wanting their work published. In a blog post, “What C-19 is doing to poetry publishing” she points out just why this usual way of getting printed is […]
I have recently written this piece with Ben, whom I share similar way in writing poetry, from the concept beginning lines to the last word fine tune. Do check out his blog Benjamin Grossman I savour your words on my tongue daily Reading aloud your thoughts and feelings As if sampling a handcrafted recipe […]
“One writes not by will but by surrender.” “In poetry you can express almost inexpressible feelings. You can express the pain of loss, you can express love. People always turn to poetry when someone they love dies, when they fall in love.” “I am not quite sure how writing changes things, but I know that […]
via 10 More Great Quotes About Poets, Poetry, and Writing by Erica Jong — Paul’s Poetry Playground
Each time my heart is broken it makes me feel more adventurous (and how the same names keep recurring on that interminable list!), but one of these days there’ll be nothing left with which to venture forth. Why should I share you? Why don’t you get rid of someone else for a change? I am […]
When April 1st came along, and I remembered GloPoWriMo, my first thought was, Oh, of course I can’t participate this year. I was in shock from the sudden school closures and the transition to work-from-home, and I was exhausted from two weeks of overwork. Then I realized: this is what poetry is for. If I […]
via Aimless: Writing Poetry in a Pandemic — Cathy Tea’s SimLit Anthology
For those who are not aware, I am an author of a short poetry ebook on Amazon called Sensations and stars and other poems. Do check it out ❤️ And some of my amazing followers have requested for me to do a post on some poetry tips, and I know that there are some really […]
I walked a crooked path in life, sinning every day.
Drugs my meal of fun. Hiding in them
to get away from all the pain and suffering. From birth
to fourteen I was physically and verbally abused. At
fourteen, I was left on a street corner.
I would eat out of garbage cans or steal from the stores
just to survive. I was arrested and put in juvenile hall,
where I was beat up and raped.
My mother can and got me out. She was living with
an ex boxer. He liked to knock me around like a
punching bag.
At eighteen I ran away and thinking it would get better,
I joined the Army. I was wrong. In boot camp the sergeant
pushed me around and verbally abused me. It was like that
for sixteen weeks.
Then I went to Korea. I was put on the
front line to help keep the South safe from the North. Stress
was a daily thing and fear of being shot went along with it.
That’s where I got hooked on drugs. When I can back stateside,
I fell in with a bad crowd. I become a garbage can junky,
that means I took any drug I was given.
While I was on drugs I went through four very abusive marriages.
Up until then the only God I knew was one that sit in heaven.
He judged everyone and if you sinned you went to Hell.
So I could not look to him for help.
The rest of my life was a blur of mental hospitals. Into the hospital
out on the street over and over again.
Then one day I was sitting on the street corner looking for drugs.
A man came and sit down next to me. I thought he was looking
for drugs too. I shouted at him to get away but he did not move.
“Son,” he said, “What are you looking for?” Drugs I said you got
some? “I got something better,” he said. “it is God.” Oh no you don’t
I know about your God and He is a bad God, judging people and
sending then to hell.
He laughed, “My God loves you.” How could He love me I am just
a sinner? “He sent His Son Jesus to take away your sins.” How could
He do that I asked?
“Jesus was hung on a cross to suffer for your sins. He died so you
will never be judged for your sins now and forever.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. How would He do that for me? “He did that
because He loves you. Three days later He was resurrected from the grave,,
now He is in Heaven at the right hand of God. He intercedes for you.”
I looked at him and he smiled at me. No buddy smiled like that ever.
“Come let me help you.”
He led me to a clinic and introduced ne to a counselor. We talked and
she said I had PTSD and was bipolar.
That was twenty years ago. I found a Bible based churched, and found
a home there. I read my bible every day, and pray to God, Jesus, and
the Holy Spirit, I am no longer on drugs and have a handle on my
problems. Today I no longer walk that crooked road. I know God loves
me and He loves you too.
I’m somehow paler now than I was through Winter
And ghosting when I’d rather be out toasting,
Even if it were still out frosting
Nah b, but I might just be lying to me,
Cuz time is teaching me what boundaries and growth mean
Like putting things in their proper place
Instead of tossed in a drawer of disheveled space
Because you don’t get taught the how,
Always just told the what
But I’m uncovering how poetry is my recovery
For, it is perspective renewed
When I can hardly see past the overcasts
And my eyes stay open doing unpaid overnights
Still, to honor ALL the parts that come with You
With the space to feel your feels
And just give it some comfort food
Or maybe a nap,
And take it all in with just a baby step
And, I couldn’t so much regret the ease..
For the tomorrows to perhaps bring a better breeze
By: Saleda Abdul
