My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Writing

Writing 101: Why Do I Write? #everydayinspiration


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Why Do I Write? What a question. It’s a difficult concept for me to explain. I have said before, writing is like breathing for me and I know many other writers can relate.

While some people talk a great deal and say everything they’re thinking outloud, some of us prefer to put our thoughts to paper or on a keyboard. You see, such as it is with conversation, when words fly from a talkative person’s mouth nearly unfiltered, the words I write or type flow from my mind to my hands and there isn’t any stopping them.

Where ever I go I write. It’s my most comfortable form of communication. Sometimes, if I have something vital I need to express, I write it down first and then later, I remember what I wrote as I speak it outloud.

I make lists. I always have. I take notes listening to a TED Talk I want to remember, or some other new activity I’m attempting to learn. I make notes or highlight in books on my IPAD or in hard copy. Sharing my thoughts and remembering what I’m learning, is vital to me.

I’m not exactly sure why my tendency is to write first, other than when I write what I need to say, my soul flutters free. I let go of my burdens when I write and make the points in conversation I couldn’t say as concise or eloquently outloud.

Moreover, I think in writing. As I drift to sleep, I think in poetry. I think in half-rhymes, in full rhymes, in metaphor, assonance, alliteration, simile, personification, and in changing points of views.

Writing makes me consider character and the motivation of people in real life going about their everyday activities.I wonder why they do what they do? How they do what they do? What person hides under their public persona?

I don’t always want to know the answers but I wonder and I’m full of questions. I don’t trust easily, but I feel a kinship with those who also use words such as I do, to unburden themselves, to prove a significant point.

I write because what else would I do? I have always written and writing has become my breath. I write because writing is me and if you want the truth of me, it is most easily found in what I write


 

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Wrapped Refrain, Writing

Poem: Wrapped Refrain – “Words on the Stairway ” 


 

http://www.alexmulder.eu
 
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Back to my favourite rhymes I go,

Keep the rhythm quick as we flow,

Appeares that writing voice is back,

No need now for all your life hacks,

The refrain encapsulates vision, souring high.

The grandest place to thrive, creativity cries.

—–

Incased in suits, all bullet proof.

Meaning of powersuit, not aloof.

Fluttering new wings of glory,

Touching heaven, sparks gold stories.

Raining down vocabulary, feeling prose.

Writing anyways in poems, how this writer’s mind grows.

Round in circles, form graceful dances ever-glowing.

——

Phoenix rising, as he spins.

Diving down, prey on fish with fins.

Consuming all the rhymes precision.

No one can claim indecision,

Choose the words, that force you far into a whirlpool.

Round you’ve spun, twirling; time granted swirling jewels.

——

Another verse rises, ascending,

Riding stairways, crescendoing.

Flying the stairway to heaven,

Lyrics, mana, and nectar; times seven.

Wings of angels, spirits, enchant; singing —

Back to my favourite anthem of life, song ringing.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Daily Prompt, Free Verse, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Poem:Free Verse – “Fleeting”


Thanks to The Daily Prompt for the prompt word fleeting.

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Considerably, much time in life is fleeting,

Even this moment passing now, it was a cheat —

We didn’t know we’d never get the moment back,

But it’s gone forever, clever, a moment we lack.

Fleeting, means something isn’t here long,

We need our best attempt, to remember it’s song,

When all our moments are gathered at the end of life,

We will see life was fleeting, for it’s pain and strife.

Perhaps, we will only picture meaningful times,

Laughing with loved ones, and considering old rhymes.

Pieces of poetry and prose, leading us through each day,

Thinking, and contemplating words, as they play,

At the end of days, it’s hard to say, what will be important.

I think for our time with our families, we’ll feel fortunate.

But if our moments are fleeting, how come they take their time,

Letting as watch the clock tick-tock, slowly, and stately, chime.

The sun may set, but it rises again; each morning so glorious.

Thinking, one day the sun won’t rise; right now it’s notorious.

It rises each day, shooting rays and light across our paths.

So when He leads us, we can go step by step and laugh.

Awaking early, only to see the breathlessness of pastel colours blend.

Photographing sky in our minds with nostalgic clarity, to rend.

Time happens so slow, but quickly when we think, how it went,

So, if you please stop saying everything is fleeting,

Instead be cheerful, and don’t forget to greet,

The people you come across in the passage of our lives.

Live each day, a wondrous burst of your best tries.

Take your time drop by drop, and spend it well, don’t cheat.

Be watchful; when moments go, they go on feet so fleet.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.