Jazmee27 
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Old or not, it's still good-goodenough, I'd say.
Reply #201. Jul 27 11, 9:54 AM
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Jazmee27
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It's far from perfect,
But then again, what isn't;
Perfection's just one of those ideals:
Impossible to attain.
Reply #202. Jul 27 11, 9:56 AM
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postal315
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Thank you, I still like it, but I've gone a different direction now.
I think your "Shattered Steps" is publishable now. Where is the question you must answer in your mind.
I'm going to get one of those small blank-paged bound books to recored my "finished" things on.
Reply #203. Jul 27 11, 12:03 PM
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Jazmee27
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I consider my poetry publishable, the short stories questionable (I can't seem to make a draft worth revising-I keep starting from scratch :()
Reply #204. Jul 27 11, 2:02 PM
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Jazmee27
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And the title's "Shattered Dreams" not "Shattered Steps" :)
That has to be my favorite one yet
And I think we all go in a different direction at some point: it's called growing :)
Reply #205. Jul 27 11, 2:05 PM
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Jazmee27
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I have separate folders in the computer where I record the date a poem was written (I don't have all of them dated, but those I know I do [the more recent ones were posted here either the day they were written or the day after, which makes it easy])
Reply #206. Jul 27 11, 2:08 PM
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papasmurf13
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Quiz; An Author's Rhythm
A cosmic dance; a reach to know surrounding storm and frailty
A walk within the darkening souls; bursting through bright blarney,
A word, a line; the thought pronounces knowledge anew, and determined
To sail the world in a mind; a soul, true virtue; the swirl; your moment.
The want to need and learn and excel
A thirst for love intelligently sought
A solemn smile with chaotic chasms through the body
A light will shine with all you've got.
So take your ideals and aim so high
To create your life for all minds' eyes.
(Dedicated to all quiz authors and dreamers; you will soar when you believe)
Reply #207. Jul 27 11, 4:09 PM
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postal315
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Shattered Dreams, forgive me.
Reply #208. Jul 27 11, 5:27 PM
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Jazmee27
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None needed, Postal, I was just kidding; what is a name but just a title? And what is a title but a word? And what is a word but... oh, whatever :)
Reply #209. Jul 27 11, 8:18 PM
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Jazmee27
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Words flow from my fingers to the keyboard,
Some good, some not so good;
There's just a certain beauty,
Something relaxing,
About the written word.
I look over my work later,
Some I'll keep and some I'll toss;
But it's the writing that counts,
The words shaping and reshaping,
Telling stories of their own;
Yearning for freedom:
Teaching us as they pass by.
"Many kinds of art," one explains,
"There's literary art,
And dance art,
And musical art,
And drawing art,
And then there are rarer forms:
It's all in the expression."
(Dedicated to all those who love art in all its variety)
Reply #210. Jul 27 11, 8:27 PM
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postal315
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A story in my recollection yearns.
How will I pass the humor on, humor tinged with sadness?
Would a poem reflect the dichotomy, Or only a short stoty may do. The rough first draft, to hold the facts. On more reflection the humoe edges is---needs to be set aside and polished, some tales just demand it!
Reply #211. Jul 28 11, 6:28 AM
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postal315
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Just musing on a poem---sorry.
Reply #212. Aug 03 11, 11:04 AM
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Jazmee27
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To Charlaine
------
Do you realize
What you’ve done
To me?
I suspect
The answer’s “no,”
That you don’t care;
If you did
You wouldn’t have
Done that thing you did.
It’s late at night,
I sit alone and wonder
If I’ll ever sleep again;
I hear your voice,
Replay the memory,
And my heart pounds:
Why can’t you just
Leave me be?
Reply #213. Aug 03 11, 8:55 PM
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Jazmee27
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Look at that garden,
It’s a disgrace,
A shambles, a wasteland, a sick joke…
The sunflowers, they’re gone,
Tree branches everywhere,
It’s a sore sight,
A travesty, all in the name of Mother Nature.
The storms, they’re getting more ferocious,
The days, they’re turning upside-down,
Life isn’t what we once knew:
Oh, what’s a girl to do?
Reply #214. Aug 29 11, 4:19 PM
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Windswept
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Hi everyone,
Here is a poem.
Windswept
Part for the Whole
a plain whole part
in a larger field
fresh California poppies
blooming hyperbole
red on golden wheat—
Van Gogh perspectives
in a near distance
gray hillsides curl about
complete on the edges
carmine spots, side-
lights blazing sidekick
shadows indelible:
burning in dense fog.
Reply #215. Aug 29 11, 6:17 PM
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postal315
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Hi teammate I had to check, your poem sounds very authentic Californian.
I like it, mostly because there is so much feeling and atmosphere to it.
This is something I'm working on in my own poetry.
Would that style be considered free verse?
Reply #216. Aug 30 11, 2:41 PM
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Windswept
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Hi Teammate,
Good to read a posting back. Thank you.
Yes, it is totally free verse, I think. No end rhymes, no specific patterns, no assonance. Just a web or nesting of images.
I started to write too in California.
Linda
Reply #217. Aug 30 11, 3:27 PM
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postal315
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Aha! I was reared in California and Arizona. In the good old days, before gangs. Yes, there was such a time.
I've been in the Houston area since 1970, if I remember right.
Mission bells, sweet pea smells,
The swallows always come back.
Prismatic ocean, blue-green yet clear,
Cliffs on one side, sea on the other
Road trips were relaxing,
Memories of old California.
Reply #218. Aug 30 11, 7:36 PM
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postal315
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Where's that edit button, that one needs work? At least a second draft!
Reply #219. Aug 30 11, 9:14 PM
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Windswept
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Love "Mission bells,sweet-pea smells"
Linda
Right now I don't remember if there was a hyphen between sweet and peas or if there was a comma after bells. If I go back I'll lose it all.
Reply #220. Aug 30 11, 9:15 PM
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