Madie writes "A Different Time"

Madie is one of our most gifted writers. Here she describes a moment when a one responds to the touch of another. Great poem!

A Different Time by Madie
The clock-face hands
No longer measure time
When you’re in my space.

It’s metered by an oyster
Tipped to my lips
And by warm sand
Beneath my naked back.

Or a boat trip where
You slip an arm around
And pull me to you.
This is how it flies

And how it lingers.
Carried on a laugh,
However fleeting,
It can fill a day.

And when your will
Is buried in my mind,
It stands still.
JLS

Michiel Seaton's poem "How purple can it be?"

Michiel Seaton is a new member of our group and shares with us some moments of passion from his experience.

How purple can it be? Michiel Seaton

As purple as the haze
Which hung around Hendrix
As he trail-blazed
The decade I lost my innocence

As purple as the valley
I entered with Ry
Where I finally found
The second love of my life

As purple as the wine
Which we drank on the bank
Of the river in France
With our first-born inside us

As purple as the Cardinals’ silk
Which means nothing to me
As I own my own sin
And won’t lend it to Christ

As purple as the prose
That springs in my mind
When I can’t find the words
That would sing of my love
[Michiel Seetan]

laika karu "Watusi"

laika karu is a prolific writer in the creative writing group. Here she writes about a moment in time. The detail makes the poem exceptional. ENJOY!

watusi by laika karu
dirty windows imprinted by god knows what
rays -- dust swirling in a light hazelike memories

this cafe has really gone down hill
I hope no one touches me

reflections of weakness
she thinks to herself trenches a little too deep for defence
eventually swallow you whole

listening to the cry babies at the next table - a reminder of a family
wondering if they could would they put you "down"
like some inconvenient dog....

rousing yourself to focus across the room
where the watusi sing songs of revolutionon National Geographic
but there are no subtitles
so you don't really know for sure

The Snow by Randi Grigorovich

Randi is one of our creative writers. Her poetry is personal and passionate.
Here is one to share with everyone


SNOWS.

Outside the snows fall on the red bricked streets.
All is silent.
All is clean.
As if death him self had come to call.

In his room cotton cries.
Yet no one hears.
No one really cares.
After all he he no bruises.

It’s just he has seen love.
Yet love not directed at him.
But his half brother.

What would it feel like to be loved ?
He wonders.
What would it be like to told I love you.
So he cries.
The snows fall.
and the silence of death reigns.
RANDI GRIGOROVICH

Creative Writing Is Here and Now!

The Roissy/Blackthorne Creative Writing group is here for everyone. One doesn't have to be a poet or a pro. One simply has to show up. The group is here for anyone who want to share what she has written. One can simply come and listen and appreciate the talents of those who love to write of their loves, their passions, their tragedies, their hopes and their dreams.

If you want to come and share with the group be prepared to be accepted as part of others who listen and accept. Be prepared to be encouraged and appreciated. Be prepared to become part of a group who want to listen to you and respond to you. Be prepared!

And of course you may simply sit and enjoy the fun. YOU are there to part of a group who loves writing.

The Creative Writing Group meets on Wednesdays at 5:00 pm SL time in the Palais Brew, the coffee shop at the Palais Gallery. We meet again on Sundays at 12:00 at the same place. Come to one or both.

The Creative Writing Group sponsors a Poetry Slam every three months. Miss Zena of Body, Mind, and Spirit sponsors the event. The sharing is exciting and the poetry is great.

The next Poetry Slam is the last weekend in June. So be prepared.