I came here because the wolves in the willows howl from their cubicles and church pews. I can hear them clicking their teeth, tapping their pens, smiling with their fangs out in staff meetings and check out lines
I needed to escape, a safe haven to fill my soul with inspiration because arguing with the wife the kids myself is like quicksand and these wolves are getting closer smelling my blood in the air.
So I come here after years Years where I grew weak and find it empty. Statues of poets with vines rhymed and wrapped around them stragglers singing songs that go unheard. Once a vibrant village seems to only be a shadow of its spendor
I came here for inspiration because inspiration is armor and fortitude and thats what I need right now to steel myself against these wolves these vultures and their tapping pens...
Alas I may have come a year too late and now I have no where to go..... ________________________________________ "With peace and love in my lungs, I hold my breath until the Poet returns."
1. "Not dying, but clearly writers " In response to Reply # 0
don't post like they used to anymore. Not just here but other sites as well. My wonder is if there are still writers and poets out there willing and down to share. It's been a great while since 1999-2001 when writing and creativity were at an apex.
Times have changed and writers have changed. Admittedly I stopped writing poetry a more than a few years ago. Marriage, children, unemployment, re-employment etc.
But I am still here. Just wrote a novel also.
I feel like if folk can give maybe 20 mins a day. Post a piece or two, respond to a piece or two...
5. "RE: Not dying, but clearly writers " In response to Reply # 1
Yeah I feel you, been throught the same thing personally. I'm a poet, always have been but the more I get swept into "real life" the further away I get from my inner poet.
I came back here bc I really needed the inspiration and just felt flat. No knocking the people that do post, but it aint like it was back in the day.
Man there used to be epic freestyle battles, Poems that would extend from writer to writer... Mad love for the ones that had your respect.
It was like we all grew up together and then grew apart. I'm guilty of it too. Not sure what I expected when I came back, but not the way it is now...
________________________________________ "With peace and love in my lungs, I hold my breath until the Poet returns."
3. "RE: This Board is dying...." In response to Reply # 0
never too late pop and shake the share the take yogi and bo bo a picnic at the lake love family no mistakes have been made did you pay your dues my shoes are blue Elvis had not clue spotted alive we thrive we hide but the garden blooms wide vineyards divine in speech to teach to preach to all those lost in hope get down from the rope grouping a willow tree soap doesn't get rid of sin my papers is toilet thin clans and kinfolks forks and spokes on big wills I'm feeling the vent so I constructed stints to keep eyes open can you see all things focus on you tube icu northern lights that burn down artic castles we call supreme a dream of freedom in bondage of laws entrapped in devils devices justice is flawed but is something dying because it don't speak most are like rats that sneak to prevent the shark attacks maybe you too should act like that?
king david once pretended to be crazy to live a health long life instead of wedding the knife that cut life lines be encourage and live life aboundantly
6. "RE: This Board is dying...." In response to Reply # 3
*sigh*
This, is what I mean. My apologies if you are fourteen finger swypes to the bone on your LCD screen palm gripped on your IPhone scrolling past the memes Skull & Crossbones as your gallery theme...
I see what you mean, or at least what your getting at but without proper spacing, pacing your writing falls flat. I'm spending more time circling back trying to understand what you said that I probably missed the point, or it flew over my head
But even when I do, sit and dissect Your context. Dialect. Intellect. I'm hoping that its like ancient Aztec but instead its Yogi and BooBoo. Don't get me wrong, I got love for Jellystone but its like you didnt even read my post.
I'm trying to return to a board where I can toast with scholars again. I used to sit for hours on end right here... Pad to pen. I came back to get that magic again and I get rats and shark attacks...
*sigh* ________________________________________ "With peace and love in my lungs, I hold my breath until the Poet returns."
7. "RE: you right i remain silent" In response to Reply # 6
wrong way educated people don't pay for horse meat only kids where's the beef play Wendy's merry go round shout up and hit the jay all I caught was ZZZZs please answers taken of context I'm Clark and you Lex I rebuke same sex politics but you lick up vomit like I was speaking Amish blue balls I give motion to all fish fisher men's pride you in for a Scooby snack ride and your reply is all shaggy pull up your pants sagging ass cheeks out (you know that should be against the law)
love Zen can you hear the tongue of the dog lick himself with no body?
the wind still blows fertile seeds towards distant waters somewhere the land may be arable yet, soaked rich with the ink of a million blotters waiting to stamp signposts with parables we forget leading the way through the timeless maze of our conditions and thoughts, to age old feelings expressed repressed or redressed in sylables of potent language are they written here or does our home starve for submissions while it slowly rots Methinks not.. for under the surface leviathans dwell and their poetic soul peices yet unwritten, unspoken, languish perhaps to surface perhaps to remain submerged but this freestyle is an ocean of purpose simply waiting for the tide to turn... so be encouraged.
13. "RE: This Board is dying...." In response to Reply # 0
Indeed we have all been remiss in posting and moving the pen, really using our God given talents as we all run in the rat race. However, we are still here. We still remain. These voices that link words to emotions down to the inner workings of such beginnings. Poetry is like a phoenix. It may die but it'll come back again. My city is burning and there's a poem within me so epic I may be afraid to write it...but wait...here it comes... ~~~~~~~~ When One learns to live without fear, then One cannot be broken.
19. "RE: This Board is dying...." In response to Reply # 13
feeling that Intrepid in many ways yes my city was burning now racism is being lynched or at least the conversation is on the fence...so yes words are burning in me relationships in the pan while others linger in the gallows waiting trial yes these words are flowing but my finger sticks
"keep pennin till the earth birth's your rightful seed then nurture it wit more ink..." ASIEM "Kuun fiyah Kuun" Quran (Be and it is) " A writer takes his pen to write the words again that all in love is fair" Stevie Wonder
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