This is another writing experiment — 60 second poetry. On your mark, get set, write! The goal is to think quickly, let emotions flow and hopefully end up with something worth sharing.
A couple rules:
1. Just write for 60 seconds
2. After the 60 seconds, you can correct typos/punctuation but you can’t change/revise words!
[NOTE] :60 Poetry has really taken off, so I created a separate blog to house all new poems. Find them here. And on Facebook.
April 10, 2012
Free from fear and failure, I am
Open to learn, live, love, I am
Reborn, fresh and new, I am
Never again the same, I am
April 6, 2012
Desire, the fire that ignites my soul
Spiraling the passion upward, outward across those dark spaces in places beyond my reaches
I rejoice in the voice that whispers
My muse, I use like the air I breathe
April 5, 2012
I am a shadow in the corner
There but lack substance
I am controlled by a source blind to me
It stretches me, gives me life
Or takes it away
April 3, 2012
Swing and miss, at least I tried
It hurts in spurts, though less I guess
Happy I swung, but need to bite my tongue
April 2, 2012
1. Tear-stained palms reveal my heart. Nothing ends without a start. A beginning before concluding, what am I doing?
2. Coffee sets my mind free. My heart races, blood paces and ideas take me to odd places. I like.
3. My words are sharp, cut you apart slice and dice they’re cold like ice, not nice. You care that I’m not fair. My words take your breath away make you feel small, your tears fall. You cradle the floor, I slam the door. We are no more.
March 29, 2012
1. I will not draw you something, I say. Not now, not ever, certainly not today. I will not draw you a shiny flask. I will not draw you something because you ask.
March 28, 2012
1. Hope is like a nightlight just out of sight. Its ambient glow guides you, let’s you know what to do. Keep moving forward through highs and lows, tears and cheers, go.
2. Technology rewires society. Tic toc for the good. Tic toc for the bad. Embrace or hate it, it’s there moving faster forward to end us all.
3. Guns flowers the men in power, love to hate but can’t escape their lust for things, small or great.