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 28 Jan 2006 @ 07:50, by judih. Ideas, Creativity
................
a gentle benediction. If the mood fits, claim these whispered words. More >
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 27 Jan 2006 @ 13:40, by silviamar. Ideas, Creativity
This is a poem written by our newest member, Shimanta. More >
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 23 Jan 2006 @ 03:34, by jmarc. Ideas, Creativity
We'd met at the antique shop on Madison Ave. between 81st and 82nd.
We found ourselves both admiring an old A&P baking powder tin, with
the label still intact. I had been at it all day, as was my habit on
my only day off, wandering the endless parade of shops in that area,
for the past was my passion, and these shops held the best. More >
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 22 Jan 2006 @ 01:29, by skookum. Ideas, Creativity
and you didn't believe.. did you.... *grins More >
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 21 Jan 2006 @ 07:42, by judih. Ideas, Creativity
one month past solstice
the hour's getting cold
as waves of winter prepare to cover our land More >
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 19 Jan 2006 @ 19:17, by jstarrs. Ideas, Creativity
Welcome to The NCN Poet Tree Anthology...we hope you'll enjoy this evolving, involving and revolving selection of prose from NCN poets, worldwide - submissions are welcomed. More >
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 18 Jan 2006 @ 13:18, by silviamar. Ideas, Creativity
I wrote this poem in Spanish a few years ago, but I've included also an English translation, so you can understand it :-) More >
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16 Jan 2006 @ 11:43, by swanny. Ideas, Creativity
Jan 16, 2005
Canada
Morning
To Live...
Ah bitter sorrow...
To let fall those tears of anguish, despair
and heart break and accept those sad truths
that in this life doth befall us.
Yet time that comical trickster, doth lend its
aid after itself and comfort us and lift the
heart anew to new joys and songs perhaps.
Alas who can rightly muse
of what the day and morrow doth and may bring.
More tears, to have the courage to let fall perchance to
comfort and ease our hearts burden in some strange and winding
way...
Or maybe a truthful and honest smile that can melt some
hardened heart
Per chance per chance
To live per chance to live...
Ed Jonas More >
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 15 Jan 2006 @ 15:56, by kernerewek. Ideas, Creativity
As in history. I once wrote in an attic. A large victorian house in Clapham. Though this attic was quite huge,with a single broken sash window, which I altered by removing the sash and replacing it with a casement window, so I could elbow lean and gaze into distance and sky.
I have been writing for well over thirty years. In the main poetry ,but now I work on a novel. I have gained slight recognition, by accident rather than intent. Of late I have begun to publish on the internet, and I am building an on-line anthology, using my free web space.
There are many works and many that have been destroyed over the years, including all the longhand scribbles that showed the build of a poem. What I leave behind me. Is not the mechanics of writing, but the thoughts from a Poets nature.
I write only for its own sake, not for fame or recognition. And I write using a computer keyboard, rarely altering any work once it is written. Even now. I fall into another phase, where poetry changes into a greater maturity of human understanding. Within an absolute that is undeniable. Held tight by a measure that has no mark by which to rule. Such measure contains another absolute. That of an awareness of human content. I recognize my human role, as the measure slowly fades into a return into the debri of stars. As I begin so I end.
Kernerewek More >
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14 Jan 2006 @ 01:39, by skookum. Ideas, Creativity
Beyond the Storm More >
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