Be Creative

[Jeremiahcp]

Post a drawing, paintings, photos, music, writing, poetry or whatever else you like to express, no judgment, any skill level.

Only rule is it has to be something you made.

I'll start with some of my micro-poetry (really short poems)

---

Seven billion strong
if we all sang along
then our kaleidoscope song
would create a universe

---

Moonlit frozen fields
under vast Montana night.
No power lines, street signs,
or neon lights to witness
the crystal dance.

---

Each moment was a gift to him
until she died
then he could not bear
the passage of time

---

His mind was quick,
his hands were strong.
In the wild he would be the wolf
but here, sitting in the bank,
he was the rabbit.

 

[Sunstone]

Acrylic on 18x18 canvas panel.

 

[Sunstone]

Moonlit frozen fields
under vast Montana night.
No power lines, street signs,
or neon lights to witness
the crystal dance.

I really like that one, @Jeremiahcp

 

[allfoak]

My pencil is gone,
my carbon paper is in the museum.
I am so old i can't walk over to see um.

Now I write with a board and copy with a mouse,
Used to be i carried one to chase the other around the house.

 

[Jeremiahcp]

I really like that one, @Jeremiahcp

Thanks =) I am in love with Montana winter nights, and have been looking for the right words to capture them for a long time. I have tons of little poems on them. I feel if I keep writing, one day they will all come together and hit just the right expression.

 

[Sunstone]

There are six stallions in the meadow
Six colors in your hair
A breeze across blue flowers
Your laughter in the air.

There’s a stillness on the water
A quiet in your eyes.
I can feel your smile
A warm sun in disguise.

 

[Unveiled Artist]

Post a drawing, paintings, photos, music, writing, poetry or whatever else you like to express, no judgment, any skill level.

Only rule is it has to be something you made.

I'll start with some of my micro-poetry (really short poems)

---

Seven billion strong
if we all sang along
then our kaleidoscope song
would create a universe

---

Moonlit frozen fields
under vast Montana night.
No power lines, street signs,
or neon lights to witness
the crystal dance.

---

Each moment was a gift to him
until she died
then he could not bear
the passage of time

---

His mind was quick,
his hands were strong.
In the wild he would be the wolf
but here, sitting in the bank,
he was the rabbit.

Cranberries and colored strings
Yarned rainbows and golden rings
Strawberries and flavored moons
Pixie angels in purple lagoons
Honey suckles and cotton bells
Marshed mellows and tipsy elves
Kelpsy bugs and gipsy shells
Almonds in chocolate cocoons.

-I used to go to Writing.com and post poetry. They had a contest that said start a poem with Cranberries and colored string and that's what came up. Good site. They are getting funky with the pricing these days.

 

[Sunstone]

Paula kissed
Soft as the rustle of winter grasses

But she couldn’t find where the wind
Eddies among the rocks in winter,
And she was exposed.

Inside her were enormous bands stretched across starlight
And hung on eagle’s cries

That brittled and snapped in all her loneliness,
Though at the last she got religion.

Was that when she knew
She wouldn’t be coming back?

At Andersonville, the soldiers
Died for lack of salt

Which could not be dug from the red clays of their prison,
Nor provided by their captors.

Some in anguish
Tore the word “salt” from their Bibles
And ate the word

Only to die anyway.

And what were they
But for salt?

And what was Paula
But for love?

 

[Jeremiahcp]

Penny In The Sand

I found a single penny
in the desert sand

It was dull and worn
by passing through
a thousand different hands

But what can I do
with one old penny?

On its lonely copper back
I can not stack
adventure or
a great plan

There will be no airplane rides
or submarine dives
No towering empires
that scrape the sky

It is only a single penny

Warming my touch
I put it in my empty pocket
dreaming of everything
it can not be

 

[Sunstone]

So Helen launched a thousand ships
And everyone’s impressed with that:

But I say, “Well, look what she had to work with.
Suppose she’d been stuck in Colorado

With not an ocean to speak of.
Just a rubber duck flotilla

Launched on Monument Creek
To raise money for charity.

You see them there you know,
Each Spring the beautiful Helens

With a thousand wanton flowers in their eyes
Standing on the banks of the Monument,

Looking out across the creek
At all those rubber ducks:

Thinking of ships, perhaps,
And puzzled.

 

[Sunstone]

Ink and charcoal on paper.

 

[Jeremiahcp]

Ink and charcoal on paper.

That one is cool.

 

[Unveiled Artist]

Last thought. Last
Like weeds thrown asi’
I know what I
Lights snap

Out.

Fit Togethe’ pieces
Together! Aside!
I remember. I remember.
Peaceful pride.

A daily struggle.
A weekly turmoil,
One word at a time.
One thought then another.

They gave me the letters.
They shaped my words.
They formed my sentences.
They defined me.

NO. Last thought. Last sentence.
My mind is free.

I claim it all!

My words.
My art.
My life.

ME.

(Recent poem)

 

[Unveiled Artist]

There are six stallions in the meadow
Six colors in your hair
A breeze across blue flowers
Your laughter in the air.

There’s a stillness on the water
A quiet in your eyes.
I can feel your smile
A warm sun in disguise.

I can read this over and over.

Nice.

 

[Sunstone]

I can read this over and over.

Nice.

Thank you. The poem is about someone I once knew.

 

[Shadow Wolf]

This thread got me reflecting on my own skills in poetry. I'm really not very good at it, but on the few occasions I have really been able to get into it, and making more than reading/sounding just as atonal and emotionally flat as I talk (as my poetry mostly is), and really channel my emotions into words of emotion, I've been able to get published. The last time was a spoof/parody of the House of Bath, a poem about a meth cooking housewife from a super-small town north of where I live (entirely fictional) with a big butt that Sir Mix-a-Lot doth like, and I do believe I also made her into a whore. I had a lot of fun writing that one, and how delightfully tastefully raunchy it got. I'm going to have to see if I can find it.

 

[Jeremiahcp]

This thread got me reflecting on my own skills in poetry. I'm really not very good at it, but on the few occasions I have really been able to get into it, and making more than reading/sounding just as atonal and emotionally flat as I talk (as my poetry mostly is), and really channel my emotions into words of emotion, I've been able to get published. The last time was a spoof/parody of the House of Bath, a poem about a meth cooking housewife from a super-small town north of where I live (entirely fictional) with a big butt that Sir Mix-a-Lot doth like, and I do believe I also made her into a whore. I had a lot of fun writing that one, and how delightfully tastefully raunchy it got. I'm going to have to see if I can find it.

 

[Jeremiahcp]

Some more micro poetry

----

The opulent night
pours down
around and through the trees

Here he sees
nothing to fear
other than dark thoughts

----

Montana ponderosa
towering
towards the winter sunshine
as the bald eagle
glides
just above the tip
of their reach

----

Daylight steals
the poetry
night reveals

----

In the cold, in the night,
under a street lamp
the soft yellow light
creates reflective magic
on the waltzing snowflakes.

 

[Father Heathen]

Some ancient poetry of mine:

~The Shaman's Dream~

...and through the gaze of glazed eyes
I see that the wind has blown
stained glass and rhinestones
shattered across these ethereal skies

drifting through a moonstruck mindscape
abstract thoughts begin to take shape
I'm hearing color, I'm seeing sound
enthralling visions, surreal and profound

detached from the self, looking inward
touching the many facets of our nature
wisdom for which there is no word
when all the boundries begin to blur

~My Empty Bottle Fortress~

weed and cider, nice and toasty
jazz is an underrated genre
the dim amber glow of the light
accentuates the smokey haze
lazily rolling through the air
like electric static skittering
across our nerves soaking in
a frothy sea of distorted senses
a sweet, minty black tar
burning to cinder and ash
toggle right/left eye dominant
double vision trailing apart
deciphering music as hidden code
vibrations form geometric patterns
of prismatic flares of light
damn, got a craving for some General Tao's

 

[Sunstone]

That one is cool.

Thanks! It's of a couple friends of mine.