Pad challenge Day 2

(no keyboard today) ☺️

Pad challenge Day one

I have been thinking about how I want to do the poems for the pad challenge on the blog. I always do my poetry for the blog on lovely images to make it look nice… but I feel like I need to do it differently for the daily poem. So I decided to go with a screenshot (I included the keyboard this morning. I don’t know if it will be in all of them) that way I can do the pretty image for Monday poetry and it will be a good thing still.

Poetry Marathon Hour Ten

Redaction

The choice to censor myself
Is not one that I want to make,
Redaction is not for the likes
Of poets like me.

I perfer to spill my verse
More honestly…
Without the markers
Cross to hide the dream
I want to speak.

Poetry Marathon Hour Nine

Publishing

Maybe making books
Is fantasy,
All inside my head.
Putting together pretty
Words until the ink is red.

Maybe making books
Requires a bit of whimsy
To see the dreams
Contained within.

Monday Poetry

Today is one of mine and one of Serena’s poems, Mostly because Serena has been writing more than I have. Her Midnight Verse is nearing done. I have barely started with Echoes.

Serena Mossgraves’s Poetry

Since today is the release day for her Blood Red Rain… I thought I would share 2 of Serena’s poems. One from the new release (at the bottom) and another one from the one in progress.

Prompts, ideas, and rabbit holes

Ah… my brain is burning.

I wish I could claim it was just the heat.

Here lately I have been getting spurts of inspiration… and urges to write or create. It always makes me feel like I’m feverish.

I can remember when I wrote when the muse struck me and the idea of using prompts seemed like cheating. Now, the prompts are more like a spring board. I am often less worried about the prompt than I am what I want to say.

I end up feeling like the prompts don’t fit with the idea of the volume I have been working on and I pass them by. I get a vision of what I want the book to look like and then I just don’t want it to be anything less.

Now that leads me down rabbit holes looking for just the right prompt, just the right idea to be just the right poem. Perhaps perfectionism is a true problem…