Writing Every Which Way

Novels, poems, and writing tips


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Odd and a little sad

It’s hard to listen to family.

They know you too well,

Understand too easily.

Sometimes you need a stranger.

Strangers don’t understand.

They’re not bias and

They really don’t care.

A stranger can help more

Despite not knowing you.

it’s odd and a little sad

But humans are odd

And a little sad.

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Whispered love

There was a knock at my window

And a name softly spoken.

Joy consumed me,

For I knew who had arrived.

We talked in hushed whispers,

A wall dividing us only barely.

Our hands and lips were brought together

Sometimes softly

And sometimes with desperation.

When you left, I was smiling

But I wished you wouldn’t haven’t gone.

I yearned for your embrace,

For your protection

And prayed that one day I would have it.


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Lost treasures

I was out of place,

Lost among streets I didn’t recognize.

I thought it was over,

Until you appeared.

Before I knew what was happening,

I felt your hand in mine.

Calloused fingers entwined with smaller ones,

And the struggle was over.

You guided me to familiarity,

And although I didn’t find

The item lost

I’d found a more precious one

In you.

 

*I’m home sick today and had a dream that inspired this poem. After some drafting while I attempted to shower off my sickness, this is what I came up with. Happy Monday!


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Haikus Every Which Day (12/1)

It’s been awhile

But I won’t say I’ve missed you,

Not even a bit.


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Rule #1

I have only excuses

And no explanations.

I couldn’t tell you the truth

Only give you false directions.

Deception is the game I play.

Lies are the rules I follow.

And for those I love

My heart feels simply hollow.


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The escape artist

Focus is the master of eluding me.

I can never seem to catch it.

Every time I think I’m close

It slips between my fingers.

Next thing I know

I’m staring blankly at the sky.

The sun does nothing to illuminate focus either.

Rather it distracts me further

And in the end there is no hope.


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A goodbye not spoken.

I’ll sing to you

This one last time.

It’ll be a song of loss,

Of strife,

Of love.

You’ll love it

But rather than tell me so

You’ll kiss me.

It’ll be a good kiss,

One that reminds me of why I’ll miss you.

But I’ll live on.

You’ll live on.

We’ll live on.

Separately.

 

(Sometimes I forget to care about rhyming and stanzas. My fingers start moving and they don’t stop until the last line. Not entirely sure if that’s legal in the poetry hand book, but I’ll care later. 🙂


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Stupid dreams

Had a dream,

Can’t remember it.

Enjoy a dream,

Wake up too soon.

Want a dream,

Get disappointed.

 


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“Social” beings

There are people in this world

That I’ll never meet,

Never know,

And never see.

 

We’re a social community.

We fear loneliness

But hide from our feelings

And from the rest of our race.

 

We savor the time with those near

Yet very few venture beyond their homes.

Very few of us “social” beings

Are all that social.


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One thought, one idea, one mind

It’s easy to look at something and say,

I’ve never done that,

I’m so different

Than those other people.

 

Until someone slaps you

Right across the face

With the logic of life.

The logic of your life.

 

Even the most selfless

Want attention on their birthday.

The toughest

Can be a baby over a common cold.

 

Sometimes it’s hard to believe,

When you’re yearning so hard to be different,

That everyone around you,

Is just like you.

 

Perhaps we stop trying

To be different

And we start trying

To be just like each other.