SuziCate's Musings

Posts tagged ‘writing’

The Quake

creek off Pagan River in Smithfield

 

Rocks roll from the mountains,

moist with rebirth.

Hard, cold, and purposeful,

they carve a path through

a forest of resistance and fear.

 

Some days my words catch

in thickets of time as the pen

never touches paper and my thoughts

continue to spill into the ocean

like spent streams of raindrops.

 

My legs quiver as quartz tumbles

beneath my feet and we slide

against tree trunks ripping earth

from its roots to form

a world of our own.

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For Inquiring Minds

Today on my other blog The Water Witch’s Daughter I am sharing and excerpt of my book and offering a free copy. Come over and leave a message if interested in winning a copy.

Warrior Woman

Bow strapped to my back,

I stealth my way through the forest.

I look. I listen. I crawl and sniff.

I track any danger coming your way.

I wear you in my bosom.

I maim or kill ill intent meant for you.

It tis the way of a warrior woman.

And you, my dear,

take the quill from my hand and pierce my heart.

The Process

Van Gogh painting

Springing and ringing from the belly

this chaos, turning and churning

Emerging and curving from the void

rising and falling, coming forth and stalling

transfixed in awe, we wait it out

twisting and turning, smoldering and burning

chiseled, tap by tap

formed, ridge by gap

written, word by word,

taking shape until it is heard

painted, stroke by stroke,

almost evolved from smoke

and so it is pieced to completion,

this beast of the belly,

this work of art

The Scribbler

Oh, how I try

One word at a time

Deleting and replacing

Until I get it just so, and

I rewrite it at least once more

Then I string a sentence with another

and another until I complete a paragraph

A comma here and a period there, so is grammar

Dropping adverbs and adjectives for concrete verbs and nouns

I sling around words of interest, forming poems inside my head

Then I delete sentences and paragraphs of self doubt

I moan, groan, and struggle as I fights ideas

And wonder if I make any sense at all

And some days the words never come

A blank page is the worst pain

Any expression is better than none

I try and I try as I may someday

Become more than a scribbler

A writer of intent, of reflection.

Of words that touch, soothe,

Words that matter

Words of life

Oh, how I try

 Prompt is “Apprentice”.

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