I don’t know what you think of white, but tonight, I see azalea petals outdoing the dark, and I think, you know, I’d love to have a clothesline. Yes. I’d love to amble between shirts and sheets, get caught up in the touch of everything clean. I’d love to play Goddess, wrap myself in white, […]
I’m in awe of chaos and how easily it erupts, how fragile the audience of everything: one wrong word an unexpected May wind, unseasonal cold front, and the world falls to petals. Or maybe it’s more like the button push, gif or emoji from someone who’s had a bad day, the discord of sticking a
You’ve come to grips with it: no one’s in the audience. Every day, you hear yourself, reverberating in the mic, saying the same things in different ways, repeating your truths like mantras, your words like they came from the mountain. You must be doing something wrong, though. Nothing is happening. Nothing is changing. Nothing nods
Open your notebook. Log the times you think you failed. Read it to the wind. -Katherine Gotthardt
This is my advice: slice the morning. Make wedges out of hours, minutes where you could be writing poetry. Carve the fleshy part of day, the time when words mean exactly what you think, exactly what you want, exact like a sharp, expensive tool you bring out for the big jobs. Poetry was made for
Crave is a five letter word, same as power. The world knows no peace. -Katherine Gotthardt Praying for peace.
Four more Haiku forms from writing prompts on Twitter. The first three were written with Ukraine in mind. Praying for peace in a time of war. March wind, abandoned field. This one wide-eyed sunflower. _____________________________ unexpected news amid grim morning headlines finally sunshine _____________________________ ivy vine linking one thin leaf to another bond of greenery
Four Haiku from Twitter Writing Prompts Read More »
