The Writer’s Call


What inspires you

To write to scribe

What moves your Source

She calls



Down your arm

Past fingertips to

What ails you


Keeps you confined

Before markings

Down avenues of unknowns

What conspires you




Write, Seriously


Run, run, run…around
Easy to dance the must-do-list
No Stop Breathe
When conditioned
No Dishes Ignore Them
One Thing At A Time
Forget laundry
Ignore better

Curtains pulled aside
Blue sky deceptive
Only in the hand-span depth from the pane
Morning’s warmth is captured

Rooftops on nearby houses tell of January’s nature
Frost makes for furry topped posts and beams

Heard the term “laptop hobo” yesterday
Today I want to be one
Join the cafe buzz
Be vampiric with their energies

Sip lattes all day
Write seriously

Poetic Bantering –Who Knew?


The art of poetry lies in the mind of the writer. True. Also, it’s in the mind of the reader, and no less true is the art invoked by hands over keyboard in the reduced space of a hundred and forty characters, give or take.

In Twitter, poetry lives. Poetry lives!! Twitter’s not all a mish-mash of promotional broadcasts, or a link to the latest cat funny going viral. Twitter has spawned poets, and the poetics that live inside some reluctant writers. Poetry lives as #sixwords or as #micropoetry in Twitter, to name two active hashtags.

I’m a fan of poetry. Love it. Love its pages and pages of prose like Edgar Allen Poe’s The Raven down to the six word challenges that are alive and well in the streams of the Twitterverse. Poems come in all shapes and sizes, but how interesting is it that poetry rallies its survival in so few words, yet packs a powerful punch. The organics of language amazes. That’s the beauty of poetry, isn’t it.

And here’s what I didn’t expect. Poetic banter. Anything can become a conversation, but poetic banter? What is that?

I tweet mini poems. Two lines isn’t a lot, but that reduced space hones the essence of what needs to be said –not much different that regular tweets, except you need to squeeze in so much more, I think. That’s exactly the challenge.  I got a reply one day, only it was a poetic reply. Nothing cooler than that. I get high on just a response, but this got my poetic senses tingling. It begged for a one-upper, and soon my lyrical and prosaic passions were on a roll. Like a ping pong of poeticized dialogue, this continued for a few tweets. What’s really neat is that this is amongst several followers, and we do this: poetically converse. Who knew? And it’s so much fun.

Writers often need solitude to write; they fiercely protect it, and many times we writers live up to the stereotype of the one person, and the typewriter, now laptop, and a desk, in an empty room, like a cabin in the woods or something, but it’s this very thing of bantering that gets a writer’s brain back on track, to refuel ideas and re-energize against what we often fear that isn’t even there, some call it writer’s block –a mythos betraying writers all, but that’s another post, and I promised a Twitter follower I’d write that post, which I have, and that’s to follow this one.

Want to try some poetic banter? Find me @writer_at_play.

When the Prof Says We’re Learning Poetry, Don’t Run


Unconfined by academic formalities, uncaged by the minds of writers, unbounded by its potentialities, poetry has to be one of my favourite things to teach. Most, I think, might think of Shakespearean pentameter, and ending doublets, rhythmic ta-ta-tee as was learned in our Kindergarten classes, and is still taught today. Others might think of Poe’s The Raven, its long narrative spooky still, especially when read aloud, just as it was in the mid-1800s. Or just as likely, Dr. Seuss’s Green Eggs and Ham Continue reading