20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers


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Words

A year ago my poet’s pen was sharp,
but now my muse, it seems, hides far away.
I wish for oboe music and the harp,

get lost, instead, inside the piles of hay.
I search high, low, upon the poet’s plain,
find only nuggets here and there, no tray

resulting in a gold rush. Where’s the rain
I could dash into, feel refreshment? Words
escape the confines of my mind and brain

like hummingbirds or robins, little birds
that wing away. I wish for every sound
that make a poem, even thunderous herds.

But I am stuck in silence, in the ground
where words take time to grow and generate.
I wait for when my poem will abound.


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Questions

I am using haiku as an entrance back into poetry. For some reason, I am having trouble writing. Form escapes me, metaphor and simile hide behind ordinary words. I know that I need to SHOW, NOT TELL, but I have difficulty doing that. For awhile, about a year ago, this was a smooth road for me, but now that road is full of bumps and potholes.

Who can help get me back onto the highway of poetry that pleases, poems that come with a certain degree of ease? Who has suggestions for me? I would appreciate it so much.

And….I thank you.


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Soul-Heart

Originally posted on Spirit Led:

Bright Heaven in a sunset, shape of Heart

Soul-heart’s open,
drop it down.
Don’t look to the others
or outside,
the music plays on the inside
the place in the center
where one becomes all,
reaching to the farthest depths
past, present, and future,
all in one heart-shaped box.
Reach into it
dive into it
immerse yourself
in the green glow of healing.
Spread your wings
and touch another
with your grace,
ephemeral beauty
that journeys beyond lifetimes.
Touch each other
with your healing
love-heart,
drop down and settle
into your soul.

©SpiritLed 2015

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