The Poet’s Point: Calling All Artists!

Calling all poets, writers, and artists!

ink-and-feather-quill-clipartJoin me in celebrating the written word at the Poet’s Point. This is a new page I’m starting in efforts to form a community in which artists can share their work, get feedback, and inspire others. It’s a perfect place to overcome writer’s block, share your thoughts, test new content, gain an audience, and meet artist from around the world.

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Spill some ink and discover art. 

 

Post your work/thoughts in the comments below. Feel free to respond to other artists as well! Let’s help each other make beautiful art.

128 comments

  1. Here is one of my poems that provides commentary on media culture.

    |The Cuckoo Bird|

    There was a flower who knew an owl whose favorite place was the zoo

    The owl’s friend, the cuckoo bird, was a covert bringer of news

    She would drop the news in the monkeys’ pen at just the crack of dawn

    And fly to lands far away, over the pandas and hippos and swans

    The owl would come and perch itself on a sturdy branch of oak

    To watch the monkeys hoot and holler and cast their dirty jokes

    The frogs would hear and deem them shallow, what imbeciles, those senseless clowns

    The frogs complain to the elephant’s ears, and soon after their trunks do sound

    The lions rage, the trees shake, the zoo keepers become alarmed

    Maybe they’re sick? Maybe they’re hungry? The keepers feed them farms

    The monkeys feast, the pigs are greased, the zoo is once again sound

    And again will come the cuckoo bird, covered in the darkness of dawn

    And the owl will sit on its branch of oak and the flower will remain in the ground

    Liked by 5 people

      1. Thank you! 😊 and I believe it’s called meter.
        I read your poem as well; thanks for sharing. It’s very different from anything I’ve read before! I enjoyed the fantasy element. One thing I would recommend is your format. I viewed it on a mobile device and it was difficult to see the entire poem – I had to scroll from left to right to read the lines. Did you use a “quote” format on the editor? It may be more accessible if you use a standard text format as it is likelt you have a large part of your audience using Mobile phones

        Liked by 1 person

        1. Ah thank you so much for letting me know! The format kept on messing up–spaces between stanzas kept on disappearing. I’ll have to find a solution for it!

          If I didn’t have your feedback, I never would’ve known so thanks so much

          Liked by 1 person

  2. Two Timings

    The catches weighed heavily in her palm
    What is wrong, she wished to ask.
    Though each pinwheeled version of a throw was calm
    The shuffle revealed her task

    Incomplete, Time passed
    She would shift from left to right
    Feeding for her friend at last
    He had taught, she had learned fast

    How to flip the situation around

    Liked by 4 people

      1. Perhaps just this:

        The catches weighed heavily in her palm
        Which switch is wrong, she waits to ask
        Each pinwheeled version of a throw, calm
        Released by a shuffle
        Her mental tasks still yet

        Incomplete, Time passed
        She shifts from left to right
        Feeding for her friend at last
        He had taught, she learned fast
        How to flip the situation around

        Liked by 1 person

        1. I understand this as a girl returning from a hunt, conflicted about her kill. She learns to flip the situation to understand that the kill ensures her survival. I can see this as a metephor for what a young girl might be taught in social culture as a means of “social survival,” which can further elaborate into gender roles. It’s a very powerful
          commentary!
          Did I interpret this in the way you intended or are my interpretations very different from your intentions?

          Liked by 1 person

    1. Nice poem. I would be interested to see more of the father-daughter dynamic incorporated throughout. Maybe describe more of the “innocent world” she creates and if her father has any influence on that
      .
      I like how you did not clarify the girl’s age. It allows the reader to see an innocent and loving father-daughter relationship at any age – I like the uniqueness of that.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for sharing, Namitha! I like your poem, it shows the simplicity of the sidewalk, but think about how complex a sidewalk can be as well. It carries a lot of weight and scars and scuffs – it has lived under our feet for years and years and carries the many secrets embedded in it – the history of millions of soles! You could also compare and contrast new cement that has been laid next to an antiquated sidewalk, or explore the meaning and concepts behind a stone sidewalk. This poem has a lot of potential and I would love to see you explore the topic more!

      Liked by 2 people

    1. Hi Mehar, thank you for sharing! I love the metaphors you use, they are very unique and vivid. You talk about how the speaker is not perfect and describe it beautifully, but I’m not sure why this makes the speaker “just not enough.” I thought the poem would conclude by showing that this lack of perfection brings individuality and uniqueness, but it took a different turn.

      I would love to hear a bit more about the poem and your inspiration for it.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Sounds like a great idea, I’d love to see more of the website. Until then, here is one of my pieces:

    “Of the Fates That Await Me”

    Of the fates that await me
    I can stomach all but one
    To stare at my visage in a mirror
    And find that I recognize no one
    That I am no longer myself
    With no idea where I am
    Or how I came to be here
    And what’s worse, not to give a damn

    To feel myself slipping away
    One day here and then gone the next
    To know I’m losing my faculties
    And hope that no one suspects
    For who am I if not myself?
    My ideas, my thoughts, and my dreams
    My body is still here but my mind is gone
    Is it really as frightening as it seems?

    I know my knees will fail me
    My back will no longer support
    My eyes may go all together
    Losing my mind I dread the worst
    For if though my body goes
    In my mind I’ll still be me
    I’ll stay sharp, I’ll observe, I’ll understand
    My creativity will keep me free

    Should I no longer keep wits about me
    No longer will I be there
    My physical self is not who I am
    When I’m dead there’s no reason to care
    To be true my greatest fear
    Is losing my most prized possession
    As I compose these words, I sit here now
    Terror motivating my true confession

    I look at those who go before
    I pray Dear God don’t let that be me
    Take my body first before my true self
    But as with all things, we will just wait and see

    Liked by 6 people

  4. The fitted sheet 

    That day, I lay long over and across my bed 
    In rolling unreadable lines like 
    That picnic blanket tightly held for 
    One who would never show. 

    Now you are here, it is crazy but, 
    Can I share something with you? 
    If I spread the blanket and smooth out the creases 
    Will you sit a while with me?

    I’ve made jams, spreads,
    I kneel with wine prepared before 
    Now is there anything more fitting for two 
    Or am I losing savour like the last days of summer?

    Liked by 3 people

      1. I was hoping for a strong enough contrast which trod the line between something proper but naive and a situation a bit more dynamic and spontaneous but no less vulnerable. I hoped that the last line would sound bittersweet on the tongue to give it a satisfying twist.

        Like

        1. I see. I personally think this comparison to the last days of summer is a bit over used. Is there anything else you could compare it to? Maybe something paradoxical?

          For example, something like the fading embers of childhood lava?

          Like

          1. Now is there anything more fitting for two
            Before the frames are stripped of their fast fading leaves?

            This was more the image I was looking for I think – it is also the process of writing in a timely fashion while the thought has vigour?

            Liked by 1 person

  5. Listen

    All it takes, is a feeling so strong, listen to the sound of silence and it’s own rythm of a song. Listen to the rain as it falls to be heard. Listen to those who are silent, but still share a million words.

    Listen to nature; as it unfolds untold stories. Listen to the storms, thunders, as it warns you of changes and reformatories.

    Listen to a silent cry as they yearn to be noticed, listen to the wind as it carries many old and new glories;

    Just listen, for once, to feed the mind and soul, listening, is where sometimes inspiration can be found, and renewal of lost goals!

    https://simplysimplymeblog.wordpress.com

    Liked by 3 people

  6. Scars

    There’s a hidden story behind them, there’s a secret hidden pain, those deep, yet long wrinkles, that attempt to hide the scars in vain, her sad sunken eyes searched for someone lost in the distance, I noticed a tear tremble as she tried her best to avoid them in resistance. Who was it that she longed for? who was it that she searched? who could of left her so broken? Unaided as I continued to implore.

    She looked at me, as if it was her final goodbye, I held her hand to reassure her, as she began.. to close her eyes ..

    Like

  7. I generally don’t submit my work and recently had the courage to start publicly posting my poems…they come from a dark time in my life — here’s one:

    The torched flower

    Sun, water & love should have been
    Yet there was a browned absenteeism
    The cycle of life should have destroyed her
    Fallen petals and dried out spirits
    A lost soul amongst all other bloomers

    Yet it grew,
    Grew so very high w/o the bare necessities
    A glorious magical phenomenon she truly became

    Her petals bright and beautiful
    Catching onto fellow petals
    Bringing them joy and color
    An unfamiliar feeling to her own

    So she rose high while pleasing others
    Yet her insides torched
    Pitch black
    Contrary of her pedals

    She lit up the world; that torched flower.

    — thanks for this opportunity
    xo, lena

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Thank you for sharing, Lena. I appreciate your courage to post your work. This is a beautiful poem. I love the last line, it holds a lot of power and sums up the poem really well. I also like how you contrasted petals vs pedals, using “pedals” to emphasize the speakers cyclical efforts.
      You did a great job portraying “the weight of the world,” and the toll it can take when you try to please everyone; bringing others happiness can fuel us in the weirdest way, but failing to fuel our own happiness alongside theirs leaves us as “a torched flower.”

      I would love to read more of your work. Keep writing (:

      Liked by 2 people

    1. I’m particularly interested in your choice of the word peirce. You talk about memories in almost two different voices, one of endearment and one of (almost) control/force. The image goes on to elicit a state of reminiscences.

      I like the poem and how it gives us the power to choose which memories we keep and share and which to dispose. It carries an aura of innocence and hope.

      I would love to know why you chose to use the word peirce. It caught be off guard as I was expecting to read “piece together.” It kept me engaged throughout the poem!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Thank you Kavara for you’re generous feedback, hmm now thinking about it, I must agree, I can possibly replace pierce as it gives a sense of being a little more demanding and somewhat a little harsh. I chose it to simply illustrate how we select and place together our own memories, and it is us who choose to keep hold of what we like and what we want to allow our memories to reminisce over.
        Would you suggest me to change it from ‘pierce together’ to place together ?

        Thank you and I’m glad you liked the poem.

        Thank you Kavara.

        Liked by 1 person

          1. Thank you Kavara, sorry I misunderstood thinking you were suggesting it didn’t flow with the poem. Thank you

            Yes pierce is also because this is where we have control to choose our memories with family, friends and people we meet in our lives, whether we keep them as part of our happy or sad memories; people may walk in and out of our lives but our memories are personal to us and only leave if we allow them to.

            Thank you

            Liked by 1 person

    1. Of course. Thank you for sharing your work!
      This is a dark peice and effectively communicates lonlines. Since you have titled this peice “Shadow” I think it would be really interesting to see the shadow respond to the speaker. I urge you to explore more creative ways to convey the same message. It would make your poem more unique. Just a suggestion (:
      (Additionally, the fourth line says “mocking at my surroundings.” Should it be mocking at or mocking my surroundings?)

      Liked by 1 person

    1. I really enjoyed the last 4 lines! The rhyme really empasized the surprise for me.
      The poem shows the speaker’s genuine freight (cowardice,
      paranoia? Not sure exactly which trait you are targeting). I personally think the beginning is a little too dramatic. If you want to create the image of a monster, it might be more effective to do so through visual descriptions of the ‘monster’ itself. Right now, the reader knows how the speaker feels, but not necessarily why. Show your readers why the speaker is so scared – give the shadow monstrous traits (what does it sound like, what does it move like, what does it look like). This will make the last 4 lines that much more satisfying and effective! (:

      Thanks for sharing!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Yes, I agree with the rhymings. To keep the form I had to succumb to this … I’ll practice more to make them natural. A lot to learn. Thank you, though.
        Just minutes ago, I uploaded a Sonnet. Would be glad if you spared a look. Disturbing your peace once again but hope the poem will serve me pardon
        .Sonnet .1 – A Promise’s Remedy – http://wp.me/p7jy2d-2e

        Liked by 2 people

        1. Don’t ever apologize! I am happy to read your work. Giving each other feedback is what helps us improve.
          I really like this sonnet, it’s beautifully written and really speaks to the reader. You have a great use of language. I especially liked this line: Words fall out of your petty mouth

          Liked by 1 person

    1. Awesome blog! Love how you work to connect bloggers. Your blog has some really helpful information. I’m working on publishing my first novel and your post on book covers came in handy. Look forward to your future posts. Thanks for sharing!

      Like

    1. Thank you for sharing! I’ve read through some of your work. I enjoyed the poem “Diversion From Real World.” I also enjoy writing about the disconnect we face due to our addiction to social media. I also loved the cover picture you used for this poem; you’re absolutely right, “logout is the hardest button to click.”

      Liked by 1 person

  8. Where does the secret lie?
    Why?
    I want to cut off from them?
    Nobody – is me;
    Is what I feel,
    And announcing this,
    Is a sympathy.
    ‘Nobody’ they deny, is me;
    They call a friend,
    They found in me.
    And then, why?
    I don’t really find,
    A friend in one,
    Or in many.
    So I see, a friend in me,
    But I fail to see,
    One near me

    Liked by 2 people

  9. Thanks for the opportunity to share: Here are a couple I wrote recently that I actually felt pretty happy with. Let me know what you think.

    1, Crystal Ball

    Prophecies fulfill
    as inner turbulence projects
    external reliance

    Glimpse into future
    triumphs, appreciating distorted
    outside guidance

    The answers lie within–
    A labyrinth of fading memories
    seeking alignment

    Emancipation
    creating vigorous flow
    of self-love’s refinement

    2. The Shroud

    Treading nimble steps plank by plank
    Tip toeing to remain balanced
    Hoping to rise rank by rank
    Patience to harness talents

    Into the shroud of uncertainty
    Out goes the vision of expectation
    Attaining long lost harmony
    Discarding self-inflicted abrasion

    A plank breaks and the spirit hovers
    Courageously striding above and beyond
    While the seeped heart no longer flutters
    Renewed glistening wings– no magic wand

    Crocodiles gnawing the ropes flaunting
    Immune, ethereal permanence
    Despite each day ever more daunting
    Persevering through with resilience

    Reluctantly into the shroud he goes
    Lying dormant inner brilliance
    Facing ivory fangs as the wind blows
    Each bite testing his persistence

    Happily in the shroud he stays
    Reflecting and tampering with old ways
    Forgotten is time, and the amount of days–

    While his shroud dissipates
    And he can feel the sun’s rays

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for sharing! I really enjoyed Crystal Ball. The first three lines really caught my attention.
      The way you broke your lines really forced me to pay attention to the words you were using and the message you wanted to send. The poem feels like “the inner turbulence” as it knows what it wants to say, but projects it in a fragmented way that calls on the reader to figure out its message (external reliance). The simplest line is “the answer lies within,” which is in the middle of the poem and is a simple one line sentence. I love the metaphor – the answer is always simple, but finding it and accepting it is not. What an excellent method to convey emotion to the reader! Thanks again for sharing

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks for sharing Bilal. I love your poem! I love the alternate definition of starstruck. “Crystal earth” is an excellent phrase. It aptly emphasizes the delicacy of Earth and forces us to reconsider the rough manner in which we treat the Earth and it’s resources. The imagery you portray gives me chills!

      Like

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