Khalil Gibran on Writing Poetry
Poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder, with a dash of the dictionary. – Khalil Gibran
Personal Writing Process
I have written for years. If I had to state an age, I would say I started writing seriously when I was in middle school, writing hopelessly romantic sappy poems to the silly crushes I had then. I remember keeping a journal and writing about how in love I was with boy number 1, 2, 3, and so forth. Ah, to be twelve again. When high school came, I decided to take a creative writing class. I also started to learn the research writing process for a U.S. History course, and found that I really enjoyed the work.
Fast forward to college years, and my writing has improved drastically in many areas. I even discovered that I started developing my own process. As I type that sentence, I think to myself… wow – my own personal writing process. Well, to tell you the truth, we have never thought about it until we started discussing it during a graduate course I completed last year. I have always been one to write a thought that I have passing through my brain, and sometimes I find it difficult to keep them all together. I am the proud owner of many journals and online blog postings, both on my own blog and other websites. I sometimes cannot stand how my thoughts are scattered into so many areas, but I also find comfort in knowing that my work is spread out. It leaves me with room to reorganize as I go. Refining the thoughts in the attic of my mind is a task I find I do daily, but I suppose that is a writer’s life.
My personal writing process always starts the same way – freewriting. (more…)
Dream Descent
Sweet slumber is now
upon me; the moonbeams cast
shadows on my bed.
Clouds of lavender
lure me into the abyss
and I fall ever
so swift into a deep dream.
The stars lead me through
darkness to a world that seems
to only exist
within hidden thoughts.
Memories that once seemed vague
flood my subconscious,
only to be lost at dawn.
Remembering an American Poet
Forty-two years ago today the world lost an American poet who, without a doubt, would have given the world much more had he lived longer. Tragically, he gave up his ghost in Paris, France on the third of July in 1971. To pay homage, here is my favorite poem by none other than James Douglas Morrison, the American poet (better known as Jim Morrison of the legendary rock group, The Doors).
POWER
I can make the earth stop in
its tracks. I made the
blue cars go away.I can make myself invisible or small.
I can become gigantic & reach the
farthest things. I can change
the course of nature.
I can place myself anywhere in
space or time.
I can summon the dead.
I can perceive events on other worlds,
in my deepest inner mind,
& in the minds of others.I can
I am
Rest in peace, Lizard King.
Poem: Alternate Universe
A Hot Mess
You see, she used to be popular.
We used to envy Barbie, but now
they call her ‘B’ on the streets,
and she chases that dirty dragon
through grunge of the City of Angels.
Her hair, once wispy platinum
and soft is now dry and broken,
smelling of stale cigarettes… her skin
once had a certain sun-kissed glow,
but now it’s cracked
and peppered with blemishes,
bruises, tracks, and scars.
Her scaly hands clutch
the pack of Marlboros
as if it was all she had left.
We heard her custom convertible
ended up in a mangled pink mess
after a 48-hour binge… she destroyed
that exquisite dream house
in Malibu, and her designer threads
now rest on the bodies
of drug lords and their whores.
I guess she sold them
to pay her debts, to set
her veins on fire, to cloud
her mind – all in an attempt
to escape the pain
of the plastic life she
so carefully crafted.