|
Post by lindapastor on Aug 3, 2008 16:28:07 GMT -5
Maya Angelou: A bird doesn't sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song.
Grace Hansen: Don't be afraid your life will end; be afraid that it will never begin.
Erica Jong: Everyone has talent. What is rare is the courage to follow talent to the dark place where it leads.
Muriel Strode: Do not follow where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.
And my favorite--“Your talent is God's gift to you. What you do with it is your gift back to God. “- Unknown
Blessings, Linda
|
|
|
Post by Laurie Krawczyk on Aug 3, 2008 20:10:31 GMT -5
WOW!!! Are you having an introspective day, Linda! You and Kathy are thinking way too hard for a Sunday!! My brain shuts off usually on Sunday......maybe I should turn it back on, this seems to be the creative day!!! LOL I do love those quotes, though!
Laurie : )
|
|
|
Post by lindapastor on Aug 4, 2008 4:58:32 GMT -5
Laurie, when I get introspective it's usually during my free time. It's my fun time. I relax and 'play' when I'm thinking. It's the only time I get to do that--Sunday afternoons are for enjoying life. I start the day thanking God for everything He has given me and then I reflect and write my poetry. I get inspired by the posts here, and I am really laid back after the potlucks. (:-) Blessings, Linda
|
|
|
Post by gs3835 on Aug 4, 2008 13:37:12 GMT -5
Those are really good and inspirational quotes. ;D
|
|
|
Post by Laurie Krawczyk on Aug 4, 2008 20:20:15 GMT -5
I like that, Linda!! Have we ever seen any of your poems???
Laurie : )
|
|
|
Post by lindapastor on Aug 5, 2008 5:50:40 GMT -5
Laurie, here are a couple that have been published:
anticipation
white clouds rain gray drip squishy snow in the once green knoll
the pine tree sighs, bends to the brown dirt wait for robins chirp
Lazy Daze
Wind, softly blowing around, up and through my yard, dries hanging laundry
Cotton ball clouds drift overhead, shade me from the harsh afternoon sun.
Cat sleeps anywhere Dog lies at my feet. Cat curls on the cool marble sil, Dog seeks the fireplace heat
Cat meows Dog growls
Cat sniffs disgust at hubby's empty shoe, Dog settles down for a darn good chew.
Cat yawns, washes neat Dog sleeps at my feet
And this one was from my 'depression era':
Locked
Like the barkless oak, lightening-struck in 1996, felled, left to block the old barn door my heart too has been weathered,
damaged ignored
Scarred like the painted wood windows in grandma's farm house my heart's been sealed, shored up tight, barred against bandits [perhaps you] who would entice, steal me away with empty, seductive promises of love dragging me from safety into the night's cruel darkness
Many who think they know me preach their shoulds, woulds, and could's... implore me to welcome today's challenges to peel away the aging paint, to crack open my heart's doorway draw back the window curtains, let the light in-- "Try to see the good in others," they plead; but my own reality suits me just fine
And it's painless, nearly
Laurie, I rarely share my poems. Most people are looking for a fun rhyme, not content. A poem is emotion, insight, expression a story in some cases.
To me, a poem is the writer, tossed about, shaken up and ripped into little pieces and then pieced back together over time like a 1000 word puzzle on the kitchen table.
Many times a writer is not writing for an audience, but for themselves, to purge mental toxins, to think clearer, to discover something about themself, or to put down thoughts of appreciation or interest.
Those who read another's poem do not always understand the emotion behind what is written but apply/relate the text to THEIR feelings or what they perceive the writer is trying to say instead of just enjoying what is written. Not that that is wrong, it just is as it is.
I love to write. One day my novels will sell also.
Blessings, Linda
|
|