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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/newsletters/action/archives/id/10810-Poetry-Waves.html
Poetry: June 09, 2021 Issue [#10810]




 This week: Poetry Waves
  Edited by: Fyn
                             More Newsletters By This Editor  

Table of Contents

1. About this Newsletter
2. A Word from our Sponsor
3. Letter from the Editor
4. Editor's Picks
5. A Word from Writing.Com
6. Ask & Answer
7. Removal instructions

About This Newsletter

The winds and the waves are always on the side of the ablest navigators. ~~Edward Gibbon

Men go abroad to wonder at the heights of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of the rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motions of the stars, and they pass by themselves without wondering. ~~Saint Augustine

When you grow up by the sea, you spend a good deal of time looking at the horizon. You wonder what on Earth the waves might bring - and where the sea might deposit you - until one day you know you have lived between two places, the scene of arrival and the point of departure. ~~Andrew O'Hagan

I was happiest between the waves. ~~Gertrude Ederle

Sit in reverie and watch the changing color of the waves that break upon the idle seashore of the mind. ~~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

When was the last time you spent a quiet moment just doing nothing - just sitting and looking at the sea, or watching the wind blowing the tree limbs, or waves rippling on a pond, a flickering candle or children playing in the park?~~ Ralph Marston

The world is full of poetry. The air is living with its spirit; and the waves dance to the music of its melodies, and sparkle in its brightness. ~~James Gates Percival


Word from our sponsor

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Letter from the editor

I was talking to someone on the phone the other day
and she said that I seemed to be riding the crest of a writing wave ---


riding the crest of a writing wave


When I wasn't looking,
the tide came in
swirling around
in sand eddies and
choral pools.
Pushing, pulling--
moon movements
swamp me as,
with flailing arms,
I tread the worded waters.


And just like that, I am off and writing not a newsletter (well, maybe) but a poem. The muse holds my hands' hostage - messes with the word production center of my brain. But then, as a writer knows, you MUST, seriously, must grab those thoughts before they skitter away into the hole of 'Lost Poems.'


Swords are dyslexic words
from a tired brain with eyes
seeing backward and it is hard
to avoid the shard of steel
when all you see
are the mirrored images
transposed inside-out!

My other friend is in a slump. She's such a good writer, but her muse has wandered off leaving her stuck in a no-writers-land of hidden words (or swords) and she's flailing ... because when you WANT to write and can't, it is excruciating!

Gullies and sinkholes and troughs below,
The wicked witch grabbed her muse by the toe;
I can hear the screaming as it's dragged away:
muddied sounds in word souffle.

Trough. Goth. Troth. Both. Blew. Blue. True, too.

Maybe my great-granddaughter is write ... err ... right. I have 'hopscotch brain!' "Throw the stone, GG, then hop over the spot and land over there beyond it." I get it, jump or leap over/beyond the sidetracking ideas. FOCUS. But, but, but, that is no fun at all. Too many times I've experienced the drought ... when the words run out.

The drought ...
when the ideas run out
and a thought sinks wordlessly
into the sand as soon as it is borne
from the tongue -
no time to lounge yet
no point in digging frantically
in the sand: it outnumbers
the words. It is knife sharp
in its cruelty and will only
collapse-- burying you
even as it shreds you to pieces.

And there. I've done it again. Sidetracked and off on another bit of playing with word-dough.

*saves. Walks away from the newsletter.*
*Comes back - just told someone my newsletter is turning into fried soup. Runs away from my desk.*


I am so happy that my brain is overflowing with odd inspirations ... but it is difficult to keep it at bay when it is in flood stage! At times, it can be every bit as difficult as when your muse takes off on vacation leaving you behind, word-strangled, grasping for ideas. There is a character in the book/movie The Phantom Tollbooth whose name is 'The Happy Medium.' I need to find him. Have you seen him anywhere? (BTW - TPT is a movie every writer deserves to watch, needs to watch! Purportedly for kids, 90% of the wordplay goes screaming over their heads. Do yourself a favor and watch it!) I need that 'Happy Medium' to mediate my meanderings! I need a meal - not starvation, not an endless banquet!

While it is great when the ideas simply flow, writing is work. Regardless of whether or not our muse turns into the three-year-old jumping and pulling at us - "Hey, hey, HEY YOU!!! Yeah, you. Write. You need to write. Writer ... writer ... WRITER!!!" -- we still have this need to produce something. Even if - occasionally, it truly isn't what we intended to do at all!












Editor's Picks




 
STATIC
Isle of Palms  (13+)
A Rengay poem about my favotite hangout.
#1928865 by Dave


 Invalid Item 
This item number is not valid.
#2252063 by Not Available.


STATIC
Aunt Catherine's Blanket  (E)
Seamstress Magic
#2166935 by ♥HOOves♥


 Waiting for the Sandman  (E)
Poem #1 for Poetry Prompt Challenge
#2252051 by GaelicQueen


 
STATIC
The Old Veteran's Friends  (E)
The Old Veteran remembers his friends from the war who never came home
#1722548 by Same Ol' Sum1


 All That Will Never Be  (ASR)
Written for Writer Cramp
#2252072 by Prosperous Snow writing poetry


 
STATIC
Summertide  (E)
Beyond the abandonment of Spring... (Form: Cinquino) A Verdant Poetry Entry
#2251971 by 🌓 HuntersMoon

 
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Ask & Answer


Melisscious says: This is great for anyone whose never done those things for sure! For anyone who not only observes but does this so often it's automatically part of the fibre of their being it was a looong, but an ultimately nice reminder.


Monty answers: Yes I have and yes my coffee gets cold and yes my desk is by a window.

Good company!!!
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