How To Make Your Writing More Effective
Poetry is a personal endeavor, so on one hand what you like (as a writer) is what's important.
On the other hand, there are some tips and tricks to improve your writing based on things other people have experienced through long years of writing poetry.
Effective tools can help your writing become more powerful - to bring your readers closer to crying or laughing.
Our 5 SECRET tips to make your poems publishable!
Use less words to say more
Read it out loud! This helps you hear places that don't sound right, or where you might get bored.
Perspiration not just Inspiration
Revision is a major part of the poetic process - come back to your poem after a day or two with a fresh perspective. Make multiple versions and see which one is better.
Find an idol
Read journals like "Poetry" that you hope to be published in. For practice, start with the first line of one and write your own poem. Then replace the first line!
WRITE EVERY DAY
You are what you do, so write! Free-writing or JOURNALing is useful, but try to write a poem every day. You'll be amazed at how good you feel.
Find a community
It's hard to write without any feedback or encouragement, SHARE YOUR VERSE! POETRY HEALS & INSPIRES! YOU WRITE THE BOOK OF YOUR LIFE!
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
~deSERVING~
...askInn no 1 for NOthIng...
...RIGHT jUSt 1's REnoUnce DISease...
...REmaIn deSERVING TheALL...
...RIGHT jUSt 1's REnoUnce DISease...
...REmaIn deSERVING TheALL...
Saturday, July 14, 2012
lUv^dIvIne
...lIar>fIlcher>accUrsed>thIef...
...poser>flodger>deadbeat>scab...
...Insane>hater>lazy>scrUb...
...48 hOURs>names of lUv ?...
...dIsrespectfUl>arrogant...
...User>abUser>loser...
...tragIc cIrcUmstance of lUv?...
...malIcIoUs>decIetfUl acts...
...mIrrorIng lUv? epItaphs...
...reflectIons of lUv? caUse lost...
...other's debIlatIons...
...owned by fear>hatred>angst>doUbt...
...mIrror yOUR vIew of others...
...UsIng crUel words for woUndIng...
...namIng>blamIng>caUsIng war
...weeds wIther Inn the parched groUnd...
...golden^sIlence lessons lEARNed...
...hoot owl cheeks tUrn eyes seen roUnd...
...stoIc strength acKNOWledged earned...
...brIdges traveled thoUgh not bUrned...
...sacked soUls InnvIsIbly safe...
...poser>flodger>deadbeat>scab...
...Insane>hater>lazy>scrUb...
...48 hOURs>names of lUv ?...
...dIsrespectfUl>arrogant...
...User>abUser>loser...
...tragIc cIrcUmstance of lUv?...
...malIcIoUs>decIetfUl acts...
...mIrrorIng lUv? epItaphs...
...reflectIons of lUv? caUse lost...
...other's debIlatIons...
...owned by fear>hatred>angst>doUbt...
...mIrror yOUR vIew of others...
...UsIng crUel words for woUndIng...
...namIng>blamIng>caUsIng war
...weeds wIther Inn the parched groUnd...
...golden^sIlence lessons lEARNed...
...hoot owl cheeks tUrn eyes seen roUnd...
...stoIc strength acKNOWledged earned...
...brIdges traveled thoUgh not bUrned...
...sacked soUls InnvIsIbly safe...
Thursday, February 16, 2012
CIVIL LIBERTY
...as haven resides INN hope...
...as heaven resounds withINN...
...full times there are DIStractions...
...disTRACTIONs are but markers...
...red flag reMINDers BEgin...
...guiDANCE^REpeat^abunDANCE...
...HUE moon BEings slumbers seen...
...correcting each deferred dream...
...chanters say INN^YES WE CAN...
...irREtrievABLE TIME stance...
...gone and better rremembered...
...lessons taught by lessons lEARNed...
...harsh words wound as silence heals...
...true status, value, worth feel...
...embrace wounded and wounding...
...all our love is who we are ...
...all we see and learn we are...
...we are every one of us...
...occupied by the BEcause ...
...furthered by reMEmory...
...what heART civil liberties...
...as heaven resounds withINN...
...full times there are DIStractions...
...disTRACTIONs are but markers...
...red flag reMINDers BEgin...
...guiDANCE^REpeat^abunDANCE...
...HUE moon BEings slumbers seen...
...correcting each deferred dream...
...chanters say INN^YES WE CAN...
...irREtrievABLE TIME stance...
...gone and better rremembered...
...lessons taught by lessons lEARNed...
...harsh words wound as silence heals...
...true status, value, worth feel...
...embrace wounded and wounding...
...all our love is who we are ...
...all we see and learn we are...
...we are every one of us...
...occupied by the BEcause ...
...furthered by reMEmory...
...what heART civil liberties...
EBONIQUE
...Spirit^WIZ^dom nana judge...
...nana question nana doubt...
...nana DISobey, na shun...
...revelate ina WISE 1...
...esUlt ina luva ALL...
...kine WIND eblow to da truf...
inaPEACE powva kintrol...
...sunna speakon neva no REpeat...
...clairWEsee truf exactn...
...RErepeatn build or kill...
...rantn ramblins speak da doubt...
...caren call fa tru saneness...
..asa EARnINN LEARNinn...
...truf praktis maka be free...
...lika us TEACH, no needa CHEAT...
...as us speak da wind obey...
...ina well call isa luv...
us well come dat high heben...
..wha wit dat Release growINN...
...same say byby, same say hellow...
...best say hey heben no low...
...nana question nana doubt...
...nana DISobey, na shun...
...revelate ina WISE 1...
...esUlt ina luva ALL...
...kine WIND eblow to da truf...
inaPEACE powva kintrol...
...sunna speakon neva no REpeat...
...clairWEsee truf exactn...
...RErepeatn build or kill...
...rantn ramblins speak da doubt...
...caren call fa tru saneness...
..asa EARnINN LEARNinn...
...truf praktis maka be free...
...lika us TEACH, no needa CHEAT...
...as us speak da wind obey...
...ina well call isa luv...
us well come dat high heben...
..wha wit dat Release growINN...
...same say byby, same say hellow...
...best say hey heben no low...
DRUM MAJOR REMEMORY
 |
| ~MAN AMONGST MEN~ |
Brother MIKE...MLK jr. - "Doc"
Names...what people and things are called...
It is nearing a half century since Dr. King was assassinated on that world familiar westward facing historic balcony of the Lorraine Motel in downtown Memphis, Tn . OUR Son, Brother, Father, Doctor, Minister's life, death and legacy impacts and influences so many and so very much! I certainly enjoy viewing worldwide soundbites and articles memorializing our Pilgrim of Pilgrims. A day of service is but little to do in forwardly honoring a man simply for having been born...
Martin Luther King jr. was just like us all...living through the private and public pivotal cycles of life...sure, his is perhaps the most well recognized voice & image of ANY person born on the planet...Minister King Jr. was and is known and remembered by myriad deeds and names...
I am so glad to know many people who knew him...I am glad to have met many of his friends...his colleagues and collaborators...and even several members of his immediate family...
I am glad to have stood on the balcony where Martin Luther King's last breath was drawn...when is rains, the stain of his martyred blood is still faintly visible there...
I am so glad to know many people who knew him...I am glad to have met many of his friends...his colleagues and collaborators...and even several members of his immediate family...
I am glad to have stood on the balcony where Martin Luther King's last breath was drawn...when is rains, the stain of his martyred blood is still faintly visible there...
Over the many years that many of us have served as an integral part of the body of cultural historians and artivists whose concerted purpose it is to share OURstories . Many are our platforms, classroom and stages. But to teach the truth of Amer*African civil rights movements upon the very grounds of historic places.is an experience beyond category!
Many, many times have we walked through the hotel turned motel turned museum. Whether blocking the pivotal travel path of OURstory for young chautauquans, not quite sure what a "Youth Tour Guide" was really expected to do in this plan for them to be S.H.A.R.P. -
To witness the awe inspired wonder of patrons, parents, friends and relatives as they witnessed the result of six week's preparation of our children's Edu*CULTURAL*Arts investment in
Sharing
History
AND
Remembering
the
PAST!
Brother Mike's legacy will likely always be remembered. I hope that yOUR legacy too is valued and remembered ...as long as someone recalls some shared time of relevancy...or revisits a place which sparks some poignant memory...whether in word or deed...music, dance, laughter or some color or fragrance...some remembrance unequivocally seals ALL our spaces in time. Spacial recall seals for us relationships within which mine are our's, as yOUR's are mine and our's impact everyone's...connecting EVERYONE in symbiosis by the proverbial, unequivocal unbiased, respectful DREAM coming true!
~~LIFE's GIFTs...a few days only~
~Dr. KING's joyluv lingers~
~REmemory for EVER~
~
~Each and every step of the MAAFA sojourn through hallowed centuries of life is indeed a pilgrimage of prognosticating power and consequential privilege.
Many of us yet suffer from atrocities borne by our captive and / or disenfranchised ancestors. Hundreds of millions without recognition...countless generations legally bound within the confined inadequacies of biased "civil liberty". What freedoms when privilege often relates to skin color, religion, gender, language, status, origin and economic status?
To date, there are numerous museums and educational institutions which offer chronologial sequencing of the rites of passage of people whose lives have been affected by the after math of Chattel Slavery. Issues of status, worth and Justice prevail. Exhibits share yOURstory and teach the majesty of the legacy of people unwilling to submit to crimes of bias, hate & injustice!
To date, there are numerous museums and educational institutions which offer chronologial sequencing of the rites of passage of people whose lives have been affected by the after math of Chattel Slavery. Issues of status, worth and Justice prevail. Exhibits share yOURstory and teach the majesty of the legacy of people unwilling to submit to crimes of bias, hate & injustice!
On that pre- Easter season evening in 1968, my personal rite of passage was indeed being tested and invariably tried true! The grief and rage lingers within me to this day.
I am glad to have taken the very enlightening pilgrimage through Dr. King's boyhood home of AmerAfrikan status and privilege. We salvaged a mountain-top shaped piece of cement from the regrading work being done on that historic ancestral driveway near down town Atlanta in Sweet Auburn.
My fellow agri*CULTURAL*activist - "Brother Man Ancestor " Reverend Ezekiel Bell was one of "Micheal's"preacher partners. They along with others of the faith were young committed Clergymen Civil Rights Soldiers. When in Memphis, "Brother Mike" slept often in "Zeke Bell's" Memphis home.
In 1968 I was 15...
I was in Memphis on Easter holiday when Dr. King was assassinated at the old Lorraine...
I am called by many names..."Baby Girl", "Frances Louise","Lil' Fran", "Miss Boo", "Eboni", "Ms. Ellis", 'Fran Ellis", "Miss Fran", Mrs. fran ellis-echols", "Sister Fran", "Franisha", "Sister ISHA", "Sayyida Isha", Mrs. ISHA"..."iiYAH ISHA"..."MaMa ISHA"..."GranMa"... - seems ALL MY LIFE'S RELATIONSHIPS bless me to KNOW my name.
My fellow agri*CULTURAL*activist - "Brother Man Ancestor " Reverend Ezekiel Bell was one of "Micheal's"preacher partners. They along with others of the faith were young committed Clergymen Civil Rights Soldiers. When in Memphis, "Brother Mike" slept often in "Zeke Bell's" Memphis home.
In 1968 I was 15...
I was in Memphis on Easter holiday when Dr. King was assassinated at the old Lorraine...
I am called by many names..."Baby Girl", "Frances Louise","Lil' Fran", "Miss Boo", "Eboni", "Ms. Ellis", 'Fran Ellis", "Miss Fran", Mrs. fran ellis-echols", "Sister Fran", "Franisha", "Sister ISHA", "Sayyida Isha", Mrs. ISHA"..."iiYAH ISHA"..."MaMa ISHA"..."GranMa"... - seems ALL MY LIFE'S RELATIONSHIPS bless me to KNOW my name.
When the National Civil Rights Museum opened in 1991, some of us had been ad hoc tour guides at the Lorraine Motel since 1968...the people always came...carloads, busloads, riding bikes, walking...although it was often unsafe...the people always came! I recall telling the S.H.A.R.P. youth tour guides, "They would have come even if he'd met his end at a roadside Mickey D's..."
I could see the pride in their eyes as I complimented and praised their research and rehearsal results...
The Baileys were premier among Memphis' post WWII Amer*African entreprenuers. Although Mr. Bailey was affiliated with Kemmons Wilson's Holiday Inn Motels, Mrs. Lorraine Bailey worked dedicatedly alongside her husband to have a nice place for her people during the days of Jim Crow and Boss Crump's machine.
The Lorraine Motel had theexacting look and feel of Holiday Inns.
Personal stories...names...Civil Rights Stories...the people and events which effect and cause us to be who and what we are...they are ALL our's to remember and to celebrate...as they are ALL our's to cherish as well as our's to share...
Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr.NOBEL PEACE PRIZE RECIPIENTMan Amongst MenHusbandFather
The Lorraine Motel had theexacting look and feel of Holiday Inns.
Personal stories...names...Civil Rights Stories...the people and events which effect and cause us to be who and what we are...they are ALL our's to remember and to celebrate...as they are ALL our's to cherish as well as our's to share...
Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr.NOBEL PEACE PRIZE RECIPIENTMan Amongst MenHusbandFather
DRUM MAJOR for PEACE & CIVIL LIBERTY
1929 - April 4,1968
Your service is much appreciated...I remember as I recall!
1929 - April 4,1968
Your service is much appreciated...I remember as I recall!
ASANTE SANA - Thank YOU Very Much!
Thursday, December 8, 2011
XmasREmemory
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 4, 2008
...having ourselves a merry little Xmas...
04DEC08/9:35a
...ah! to be sure...we sure enough had them~each and every Christmas was INdeed a merry, way, way OUT of body, joyluv experience...
Lately, these some several days just past Thanksgiving Day...I too; tried and 4True Kwanzaan that I am for REAL, have been spiritually affected by seasonal rememory and reminisce.
...been musing lately about the power and "ghetto" glamoured glory Christmas' of my 56 year PERSONAL holiday experiences...
At my time of farthest back recall, I remember knowing that our period of soul satisfying family warmth and relvory are in the here and now... reflectionf of when MaDear gave sanction that the carefully packed away illuminating Santa Claus bust could be retrieved from her old in the closet trunk, dusted, and regimentedly hung in our Dixie Homes apartment front door.
Over many, many years. if our beloved Santa's lone bulb was ever blown, I recall our joyful squeals at the spotaneous release of hopefilled and anticipatory breaths when the electrical cord was plugged into the outlet nearest the front door foyer of our North Memphis housing project flat...O, the brightness of that big fat single bulb wrapped me up in what has to have been the selfsame aweinspired
euphoria felt when that little drummer boy and wise men saw and traveled by that little bright star shining and aligning in the Bethlehem of old!
Over the use of many years, Santa's big white plastic face begin to crack, his mirthful eyes and robustly red cheeks began to fade in color and about the same year when I had matured enough to know just abit more about the reindeer and chimney myths...I began to wonder why my Scottie Bag Pipe and other gifts were in the bottom of my GranMa Dovie's old mirror doored chiffarobe and not being packed onto the magical sleigh at the freezing cold toy factory at the North Pole...
When our Christmas cheer door decoration light's shortage could not be repaired again, I began to view new things with expanding and increasing awareness...being aware of time and place was so much a part of my civil rights era days, particularly as relates to issues of being unknowingly impoverished and Amer*African. Simple things like holiday lights shining or not...being made aware by my little life standards that good Christmases were measured by grown folk's ability to spend big dollars and that issues of race and gender had huge impact at ALL levels on every little thing. . Our small family unit loved so bright and shiningly and with such nurturing protection, that I did not fathom being economically challenged, what for the unifying richness of our day to day process.
Uncle Charles used electrical tape sucessfully over the years to repair the shortage, even bending wire a time or two in order to make the brittle brown cord's wires connect ...but that year, old Saint Nick's little light shown no mo'....all our patient wishing and waiting was to no avail...that year, my personal treat was to ride at the back of the #5 Poplar bus to downtown segregated Memphis to get a box of stringed colored indoor / outdoor lights which replaced our familiar, aging and ailing bearer of the bright holiday light and happy, big laughing smile.
And now, I see holiday lights each and everytime I light a candle. I feel insurmountable joy when I glimpse a Kinara or Menorah and even the Star and Crescent and too...the Locust Blossom...as well as the trailing smoke from deer skin covered Sweat Lodge domes...
I feel now days, holiday cheer each and everytime I pass through old neighborhoods and witness the signs and symbols of fimilial and economic stability, pride and increase...
I hark the herald each time ( no matter the season) I see "amount accepted" on my laptop screen, when I sometimes make the minimum payment of life sustaining bills. Being willing and able to pay the righteous debt is undeniable conduit to our cooperative~communal comforts and joy...I am beginning to know the celebratory revelance of everyday's holiday quality and essential relativity.
I hear the melodic strain of angelic voices whenever I switch on the lights, answer the phone, check Email and too, as I ride in our vehicles, as we work and live empowered and dedicatedly in these so many, ever increasing welcoming rooms....
I rejoice with historic gladness, remembering within the fondest recall so many merry holidays...as I light obligatory candles and pray for individual and world peace & global blessings...at the portal of my altar...the Zawadi bust of Queen Nefertiti gazing as ever on & on...
When I think on the reasons for the season, I remember Christmases past and I am pleased that vestiges of them yet live in me...I bear FULL witness to that fact that gentle love, basic respect, environmental and cultural consciouness all indeed help us know and value ourselves...ourstories... our peace...our names.
Who are YOU?
Why are YOU merry?
Why are YOU here?
When did you last bask in and share the simplistic joy of REmemory?
PEACE & BLESSINGS...joyluvALLways!
...ah! to be sure...we sure enough had them~each and every Christmas was INdeed a merry, way, way OUT of body, joyluv experience...
Lately, these some several days just past Thanksgiving Day...I too; tried and 4True Kwanzaan that I am for REAL, have been spiritually affected by seasonal rememory and reminisce.
...been musing lately about the power and "ghetto" glamoured glory Christmas' of my 56 year PERSONAL holiday experiences...
At my time of farthest back recall, I remember knowing that our period of soul satisfying family warmth and relvory are in the here and now... reflectionf of when MaDear gave sanction that the carefully packed away illuminating Santa Claus bust could be retrieved from her old in the closet trunk, dusted, and regimentedly hung in our Dixie Homes apartment front door.
Over many, many years. if our beloved Santa's lone bulb was ever blown, I recall our joyful squeals at the spotaneous release of hopefilled and anticipatory breaths when the electrical cord was plugged into the outlet nearest the front door foyer of our North Memphis housing project flat...O, the brightness of that big fat single bulb wrapped me up in what has to have been the selfsame aweinspired
euphoria felt when that little drummer boy and wise men saw and traveled by that little bright star shining and aligning in the Bethlehem of old!
Over the use of many years, Santa's big white plastic face begin to crack, his mirthful eyes and robustly red cheeks began to fade in color and about the same year when I had matured enough to know just abit more about the reindeer and chimney myths...I began to wonder why my Scottie Bag Pipe and other gifts were in the bottom of my GranMa Dovie's old mirror doored chiffarobe and not being packed onto the magical sleigh at the freezing cold toy factory at the North Pole...
When our Christmas cheer door decoration light's shortage could not be repaired again, I began to view new things with expanding and increasing awareness...being aware of time and place was so much a part of my civil rights era days, particularly as relates to issues of being unknowingly impoverished and Amer*African. Simple things like holiday lights shining or not...being made aware by my little life standards that good Christmases were measured by grown folk's ability to spend big dollars and that issues of race and gender had huge impact at ALL levels on every little thing. . Our small family unit loved so bright and shiningly and with such nurturing protection, that I did not fathom being economically challenged, what for the unifying richness of our day to day process.
Uncle Charles used electrical tape sucessfully over the years to repair the shortage, even bending wire a time or two in order to make the brittle brown cord's wires connect ...but that year, old Saint Nick's little light shown no mo'....all our patient wishing and waiting was to no avail...that year, my personal treat was to ride at the back of the #5 Poplar bus to downtown segregated Memphis to get a box of stringed colored indoor / outdoor lights which replaced our familiar, aging and ailing bearer of the bright holiday light and happy, big laughing smile.
And now, I see holiday lights each and everytime I light a candle. I feel insurmountable joy when I glimpse a Kinara or Menorah and even the Star and Crescent and too...the Locust Blossom...as well as the trailing smoke from deer skin covered Sweat Lodge domes...
I feel now days, holiday cheer each and everytime I pass through old neighborhoods and witness the signs and symbols of fimilial and economic stability, pride and increase...
I hark the herald each time ( no matter the season) I see "amount accepted" on my laptop screen, when I sometimes make the minimum payment of life sustaining bills. Being willing and able to pay the righteous debt is undeniable conduit to our cooperative~communal comforts and joy...I am beginning to know the celebratory revelance of everyday's holiday quality and essential relativity.
I hear the melodic strain of angelic voices whenever I switch on the lights, answer the phone, check Email and too, as I ride in our vehicles, as we work and live empowered and dedicatedly in these so many, ever increasing welcoming rooms....
I rejoice with historic gladness, remembering within the fondest recall so many merry holidays...as I light obligatory candles and pray for individual and world peace & global blessings...at the portal of my altar...the Zawadi bust of Queen Nefertiti gazing as ever on & on...
When I think on the reasons for the season, I remember Christmases past and I am pleased that vestiges of them yet live in me...I bear FULL witness to that fact that gentle love, basic respect, environmental and cultural consciouness all indeed help us know and value ourselves...ourstories... our peace...our names.
Who are YOU?
Why are YOU merry?
Why are YOU here?
When did you last bask in and share the simplistic joy of REmemory?
PEACE & BLESSINGS...joyluvALLways!
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