Dear Lovelies!!! In celebration of my 26th birthday this week, I am happy to mail the first 26 people who inbox me their address a handmade poetry postcard! BONUS: let me know if you have a favorite quote from a poem. (don’t worry, I have no other use for your address)
(Source: andreahope.org)
If you want to restore your faith in love,
become a spectator at airport arrival gates.
Bright sky faces and celestial bodies,
arms stretched out in full extension;
hearts on edge like runway lights.
9/30 Medicine for the People Haiku.
Dear Earth,
you have always moved in devout rotation around the Sun.
Yet, scientists once affirmed that this process was absolutely reversed.
Exceptional men delivered exceptional speeches
and well-informed dissertations
about how you
are the center of the universe,
the daily inspiration;
how the Sun moved enraptured by the vibrancy of your beauty,
and this It does.
For how can One not adore that which was created by the fire of Its love?
Dear Earth,
the Sun is shining brightly;
It will burn.
It will burn.
It will burn.
It will give light,
and warmth,
and light.
All that remains
is for you to take your turn.
We are whispering soft secrets to the midnight air. We are telling boogiemen and bedmonsters that we refuse to be scared…"
(Source: andreahope.org)
We had our first Sharpening the Pen: Haifa! (sister writing workshop to Sharpening the Pen: Portland!) I am sharing our prompts if you’d like to join us…
Prompt 1: Write a metaphorical nature poem based off this one below by Doc Luben.
We chose to write about being a mountain.
—-Day 9 - Doc Luben
I have been replaced by a tree.
I believe it is an elm.
Reach to touch me and I will be hard and air temperature.
I move only when blown or pulled. The crack of an axe will not even flinch me.
Scientists imagine this process
would have to have taken years,
a lifetime of lifetimes,
but it was quick, I changed while no one was looking at me.
I am still shaped the same, my bark is the color of skin
I still have a round grotesque belly and
wear collared shirts in unflattering colors
but I am an elm, we can be sure of this.
Peel back the layers of wood on the outside
and you will find more and more wood.
I will not even feel the peeling.
I no longer pick things up or use them,
just slowly grow around them
until they are difficult to retrieve.
The process of being me
has become quite gentle and free of consequence.
I rustle pleasantly. I provide shade.
I make a nice spot for a picnic.
—-by Andrea Hope
You are finally a mountain.
After all the pressing and pushing yourself together,
you are now compact.
Your head is a cold that few could survive in,
it can no longer absorb oxygen or memories,
so I share few thoughts,
and I rarely come up there.
I stay here on your side where a person should stay,
trying to initiate the crumbling of avalanche from your shoulders.
—by Johnetta Jordan
I started gathering dust at a very young age. Collecting as many particles as I could from the vast supply floating in the air around me.
Some of the dust is pretty; yellow and green pollen from the flowering trees in the garden. Some of it is dirty; ash and smoke bellowing from the industrial factories outside town.
All of it is collecting on me.
What started as a little dust collecting on a very young soul has grown to a mountain of rocks and boulders, trying to prevent me from making progress in the future while holding me back in the failures of the past.
(Source: facebook.com)
i am watercolor:
i have been waiting my whole life to paint your pieces back to beautiful…"
Humility Haiku inspired by the words of ‘Abdu’l-Baha “a little seed, through the outpouring of rain, the favour of the sun and soul-refreshing breeze, will become a tree with the utmost freshness, full of leaves, blossoms and fruits. Therefore do not consider thy capacity and merit, but rely upon the infinite Bounty and trust to His Highness the Almighty.”
