?

Log in

Writer's Block: Prone to puns

How would you describe your sense of humor in six words or less?


Dirty and Dry.
Untitled

Fingers at the Piano
Nimble and Deft
Black and White Keys
Bold and Mellow
Crashing Sound
Sweet Melody
the Tempest
a Moonlight Sonata
the Keys that Cry
when I cannot
that Scream
because my voice
is gone
stolen away by Pain
and Grief
Stuck Inside me
at the Bottoms
in the Soles of my feet
held there by that Bile-like Flavor
of Panic
Play for me
You are my Light

the tears slowly Stream down
Blurring my Vision
Hot on my Cheeks
Salty on my Lips
Cold as they Drop
Solemnly onto my Chest
the Melody Fills me
your Fingers
your Sound
your Beautiful Creation
Soothes this Battered Soul
I walk on the Edge
it gives me Ground
when my Soul is Dark
it sheds Light
so Play for me

Display a Tumultuous Sound Taken from me
my Spirit Soars
Lifted by your Light
so Play

*This is a very experimental poem for me. I played with repetition and capitalization more than I normally would. I found that it completely throws off any rhythm. The words that are capitalized are said slower and bolder than the other words in my mind. As if they are being yelled while everything else is being whispered. It's very disconcerting even to my ears but I like it that way. I was trying to relay a feeling of brokenness and panic with it instead of say with form. I also might have stretched the word luminary to it's very limits... As always thank you for taking the time to read!

A link to the Tempest played by Sviatoslav Richter on Youtube if you like. I actually like the way that it is played by someone else better but I think this is a sweeter version.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5JwxxQIxL-g

Disappointment

I have had the shock of being out in the first week of the contest. This hasn't happened since the very first contest way back in 08 or 07 I don't even remember.

That's not the worst of it. I'm out with only 1 vote. My vote. That's a very first.

The horror.

It was a good poem.

It received wonderful comments.

Ah, there is always next month.
There's a secret place
It’s coordinates
Are so well kept
From prying eyes
That few souls have ever
Discovered it’s hiding place
But I know where it is
I know what it is
When I close my eyes
When I dream
I see it
It’s a garden

Spring is forever in bloom
Flowers run wild
Filling the air
With a sweet perfume
The breeze carries
The fragrance
Over every branch and leaf
It's a vibrant green as far as the eye can see
It’s pregnant with life
It’s bursting out of
Every tree
Every branch
Every blade of grass

The trees are 20 feet tall
And filled with birds
Of every color
Singing
In their own well-orchestrated
Completely improvised chorus
A hot pink wing flutters here
An acid yellow beak holds the sun there
It's a mesmerizing sight
Every bird lined up
In the trees
Singing to the heavens
To the earth
To the air
To the water

A cacophony of colors and species
Brought together by
A single stark white feather
Poking out from the crown
Of each and every
Feathered minstrel
A shining white halo
A beam of light
Welcoming you to
Beckoning you to
Breathe


*Unfinished and untitled at the moment I think. Thank you for taking the time out to read.

Pleased to meet you.

Hello, this is a writing journal. It's basically for the various writing groups that I participate in and few other communities that I like.

My LJ name is from a poem by Rumi.

I swear, since seeing Your face,
the whole world is fraud and fantasy
The garden is bewildered as to what is leaf
or blossom. The distracted birds
can't distinguish the birdseed from the snare.

A house of love with no limits,
a presence more beautiful than venus or the moon,
a beauty whose image fills the mirror of the heart.

The Divani Shamsi Tabriz XV

My actual name is Whitney. Enjoy.