What? L - Love letters in notebooks M - Mind-mapping in notebooks N - Nothing like living in your head, er... notebook O - Orgasmic writing sessions in notebooks P - Poetry Because I thought that I would just tag along from today's letter, which is W. Remember I left you with H. I had…
This could be a post stuck in a loop. Let me explain. During the month, I read again some of my old notebooks, I found fun stuff, good ideas, uninteresting ones and some motivational speech to myself. It's cyclic. Once in a while, I talk to myself, telling me to be in action. I have…
A few days ago, I heard someone talk about needing pain to create. I thought that was an old conversation. That we didn't say that anymore. I listened further and again, the whole point was about suffering to help you touch the deep core of your being, that place where true feelings arise. Really? What about the…
No it's not a post about tattoos. Even if I would like to talk about it. I couldn't talk about notebooks without talking about pens and ink. In my last writer's retreat, we had this absolutely fabulous conversation about pens. You know, the pen that writes smoothly on the page, easy to grip and makes…
It needs just a swift image A memory of touch Fragrances of feathery words To reveal a blazing passion It needs just a sweet promise Of delirious nights and delights An enticing scent of poetry To set ablaze a raging fire Seduction and passion In a whirlwind of patience A cascade of laughter And silenced desires…
Hello lovelys! I am getting behind with Napowrimo and A to Z challenge. In case you were looking for me. Last year, I just quit. This year, I'm pushing through. I'm completing coursework and studying for exams and I'll be right back. If not Friday, Saturday for A to Z, and later today for Napowrimo.…
... For Clemence 1995-2016 He walks with acute intention A boiling vengeance in his rotten heart A task asked for, no, a mission In which, unknowingly, she will take part She would pay for them all Their disdain and dismissal He responded to the inner command Cold steel in his firm hand She dreams of flowers…
I lay lifeless on a blank page Thirsty for ink, craving words The first letter hit me quietly Punching a hole in my resignation A soft feather with pearls of ink Soaking slowly the dry leather of my cover The first word slides tenderly On snow skin, cold still from the prolonged coma Words after…
Quiet streets of broken dreams A cry stolen behind closed doors That no one heard That everyone ignored But, A whisper, a rumour Running underneath the shiny smiles Is it her? Was it him? I heard... Quiet illusions fading As one day the sun stopped shining And the night reign supreme In a broken heart…
As a child I sighed Looking for An elsewhere Still further Today Even further I'm still here Ambrozya Napowrimo day 9
Happy Hour with Pablo and Lolaz 