Being a writer is often an interesting adventure of being in your own head with twisted writer thoughts, constant loops of did I really say/do that?, and the sideline punches that remind you that you’re not really a writer…
It happens to all of us.
The imposter syndrome…
The doubts…
And don’t even get me started on the idiots who don’t see the true potential in your hard work… ugh. (This could be anyone from an agent, publisher, or best friend who says… I don’t get it. Why would your character do that?)
Like seriously, there are days (weeks/months?) when writers play more wordle and video games than produce any words on a page.
Meh…It happens.
At that stage, a writer either needs a break, a retreat, or to switch up the routine.
For me, this can be poetry.
It’s short.
It’s to the point.
There are no rules and I don’t need to worry about commas… Lord, I hate commas….
Poetry uses a part of the brain that, for me, is somehow calming and cathartic.
So then this happened…
I created some prompts and then decided to create a journal.
Why not, right?
The first one is a pic of me (or my boots actually) as I sat to write poetry by the River Tweed in Scotland.
So my fellow writer and creative, if you’re in a bit of a funk and need to switch up or add to your creative endeavors, check out the links below.
Write to the prompts as you see fit and you’ll end up with 120 pieces of poetry… your own anthology!
The journals all have the same prompts…. just different covers. There are other covers coming too…
Having a little fun.
If you want to see the listing, just tap on the pic of choice.
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Interesting, I don’t write poetry but I have a collection of poetry books. My bathroom reading. Don’t get me wrong, I read them because they are short and I try to understand the person who wrote them. Many are from friends that I know and some from school days.
Hey Lauren. Great place to keep poetry.
I never wrote poetry either cuz it always seemed so fru-fru but once i started playing with it I found it quite enjoyable. 🤷🏻♀️😊
I’m going to be brave and show you one of my short poems.
The title…-28
Chilled to the bone
Blankets not enough
eyes fall upon me, some look away
a dollar, two dollars land
once a twenty dollar bill
I saw someone I knew cross to the other side
this is my existence
But I’m free.
Heather. This is fabulous. I love that you didn’t get too wordy and yet were still able to evoke an emotional response… “I saw someone I knew cross the street…” Dang. That’s powerful. Well done.
Thanks so much, Faye!
Hi Faye.
Awesome project and I’m totally into the idea. Can you give me an example of a prompt from one of the notebooks?
Hey Sally. Thx for asking… This will give you an idea… I wrote these prompts to light that spark… To force the questions and considerations… I hope you like them. Let me know your thoughts. xo F
1. Write a poem titled: I Stood At the Edge What does the ‘edge’ mean to you? Are you frightened? Enlightened? Is there danger? Why are you there?
2. Write a poem about beginnings. A birth, a seedling, a sunrise. Reflect on the fragility and short time spans of fresh starts.
3. Write a poem as though *truth* is speaking to you. What is the message? Are you ready to hear it? Is it reliable? Is it muffled or clear?
4. Write a poem about searching for something. What is it? Is it tangible? Imaginary? Perhaps a child? A missing document? Your inner peace?
5. Write from the perspective of a nonhuman living being. A cat, a rose, a bird… What do they say? See? Feel? How do they see you? Is it flattering? True?
6. Write a poem of “endurance”. Is it a strength or curse? Now, change it to *endure*. How does that change things?is there suffering? Triumph?
Hi, Faye. This poem is about endurance, and MS.
Polly And Dave
Two people, two walkers move down path
Slow, steady, determined
They aren’t young, they aren’t old
They found each other through illness
Feelings where are shared between them
Like no one would understand
Their future is uncertain
No one knows the end
In the meantime
Loneliness is defeated
And laughter became their friend.