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 |    10k views, 2x BestPoetryCollection. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind |
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I had a lover's quarrel with the world - Robert Frost | I'm sorry you got caught in the middle. - me This poet’s words collect, arrange on a kaleidoscope spectrum. The experience of discovery through writing is the truest reward that has allowed me to grow and learn who/what I am — what other people get naturally, immediately, while I stomp around in it. Been blessed, but pushing it — envelope, world and all inhabitants away. Push buttons, find boundaries to trip traps. No clue why cat curiosity, living in your dark. (Bored, perhaps?) Now and then, push dirt out of this hole; someone/thing/entity might envision me how I need to be viewed (if I knew what that was). Cryptic, yes. Try living in my dark, find comfort amid strange, virtual, wonderful walls that tower above, tempt me to scale. Been more than I could imagine or expect here. But, achievements aren’t going on a LinkedIn wall  . I dig deeper than I should, often without forethought. Aimless words, brave or veiled cowardice, flinchingly flung, inadvertently hit targets? Get a ‘back off’ shoulder shot when asking your motivations here. Not fair?No prize to eye; not incentivized. Dealt the worst two cards before the flop, do best with what’s in hand. My Pluggers: You are an icon here.  You suffer, but you suffer brilliantly. Wow, what a great writer.  It’s like plugging myself, but using other people’s (reviewers) words…Review of "Poetic Referendum(s) On Life"  Your poetic muse is on fire!  Some great emotion, well-balance(d), lovely lyrical qualities -- even the ones that were written out of sadness or anger came through in a clever cadence…It's obvious you've put a lot of work into each entry and the totality of the blog has eye appeal.  Published four times with one a literary journal, including…  "The Tender Core (Sedona)"  I don’t submit because it’s too much work. Truly alone, know no one cares to show they believe/support me. Lip service feeds delusion. I’ve seen a lot of smoldering and snow. Try not be cynical, work hard at openness and consideration — work, sooo…gut thing.   ![Merit Badge in Taboo Words
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Brian,
Congratulations! You won 1st Place in Taboo Words with your fantastic poem, [Link to Book Entry #1027659].
I absolutely loved this! *^*Heart*^*
Rachel](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Taboo_Words-2139481_13.gif) ![Merit Badge in Poetry
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Thanks you for supporting the [Link To Item #power] with an order to the [Link To Item #powergifts] ! We appreciate it. *^*Heartv*^* Keep writing the beautiful poetry. [Link to Book Entry #1027659] is an awesome poem! *^*Starv*^* ~Lornda](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/type-Poetry-2180.gif)  August 28, 2006 this blog opened ▼
No specific aim going forward (2014) ▼  Now: I was such a whore.  This is old….What? Oh, this? A rhetorical, self-motivational speech I'm working on. Don't just read the parts to construct your theory, as if to confirm (construed out of context) your opinion, mentally-stunted Neanderthal. Therapist wants me to be less negative toward myself. I see it as attacking, rather than being defensive. Fear I will chomp too many bullets unintentionally sent toward the unsuspecting. If you can be triggered for stupid reasons, then I? …just looked like me rolling around on the floor with myself.    What Was NEW Who am I, you ask? My mirror knows that question, repeated daily. Just trying to create a little buzz, not boost my ego.  #amwriting #poetry #blog #contest #freeverse #award #bestpoetry #freyaridings #lyrics #music #video #YouTube Can you believe it took this long for someone to put a quarter in me and push the button GET ANGRY? Mud 4 My Eye:  Is that you, Poo? 💩 Secret Back Door ▼ |
| millions of miles of road on an earth just eight thousand miles long no wonder i get lost traveling these trails to find someone before shine-struck she's a vision in yellow dress wiping tables at this truck stop i linger to pump this hollow vehicle full of gas i think i could stop fly like a bird to that window to smash will i survive the crash? pick myself up and dust the road ahead again any venue would do to bring me to someone who behaves like you as you pour that coffee from a distant look in eyes i assume forlorn wondering about a journey? a million miles long on a small planet with a lost soul like me? a heart wants to lose its wheels and fly, with a ten percent chance full speed arriving at her glass full blast better keep this ride warm it's a longer winter for dreamers like me. 10.18.20 upwards of a billion birds die every year from flying into windows. "Wheelbarrow Poetry Group (Be A Member)" BLOG: "SuperNova Afterglow: End Of Days" POETRY BLOG: "Poetic Referendum(s) On Life" 2020 WDC Heart Throb Poet:
Published poet, award-winning broadcast journalist, former literary editor, newspaper editor, columnist, professional freelancer writer (retired from all). |
| this chord i'm playing repeats repeating reminds me of you reminds what you were before must have been before my eyes cast their light upon you and how that might change your mind this chord i'm repeating old getting older reminds me of you now reminds me the you i knew then not the same since my eyes cast their light upon stars and how that won't change my mind still thinking of you when this chord starts playing on my aging guitar i know you want more so did i. 10.18.20 "collide" |
| their crescent shapes curve around and over strung cable connected pole to pole down our street. given autumn perms the hairy tops ripple. curlers fly out. black bobby pins drop flat. limber paper dolls collect, frolic and cartwheel down our street as their stern mothers root in city salon chairs. we wait for Mother Nature to close this blustery beauty shop before the white of Winter releases its hoard — a frolicking bunch and not a single twin. 10.17.20 10.1.22 edit to add lines and slight structure change. The crescent shapes are the trees cut back by village to unobstruct utility lines. They appear as crescent shapes down the block as their new colors grow. "Invalid Item" Become charter member: "The Red Wheelbarrow Activity Forum" and earn a commissioned activity MB![Merit Badge in Red Wheelbarrow Poetry
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Congratulations on your new merit badge! Thank you for supporting the Writing.Com community with your inspirations, participation and activities. We sincerely appreciate it! -SMs](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Red_Wheelbarrow_Poetry-2231099_8.gif) POETRY BLOG: "Poetic Referendum(s) On Life" 2020 WDC Heart Throb Poet:
Published poet, award-winning broadcast journalist, former literary editor, newspaper editor, columnist, professional freelance writer/stringer. |
| Emily, Dear Sweet Recluse Passionate Poet What if Emily Dickinson could only feel her poetry and could not elucidate it correctly from her tongue? Even though she might have braved the words she used to express, what if her mind and body failed her? Why be a recluse rather than boldly share epiphanies constrained to that cage called heart? Was she trapped in her beautiful house that we might dare enter? Do you muddy her worded rugs, supposing incorrectly what she meant? We can't fully know but draw near, hoping worthy to consider her poetry begging for freedom. As poets, we can only express what's in our hearts best we know, informed by life, informed by poets like her that compel us to near that flame, setting our quills to the ink of that fire. We hope our words indelibly burn a page with the passions we flame with every construct devised by a brain burdened to serve a lonely heart driven by guilted madness in its own uniqueness. 10.17.20 8.1.22 edited, revised |
| You want fuzzy go check the dryer for lint You want my head stick your finger in the socket instead You want soft go look in the past for a little one You want my childhood the fruited plain harvested dies doesn't renew again You want sugar taste my strawberry balm lips of '77 You want my lips now better have all your injections and mouthwash to get rid of the taste I could speak very plainly to you to help you understand I have spoken very softly to you but you misunderstand a boy raped by life a man who remains in strife a boy the man still shelters in misery not worthy of your adoration from these flaws not worthy of praise because he's opened up a shadow on your walls too hard for a heart that's overdo for a checkup 10.17.20 because I can't make you understand, or you just don't want to hear. I won't say you are ignorant. It's probably me. |
| My head is a place even I can't visit This soul is a place that shudders because its a ghost of itself This heart functioning no longer reminds me of former passion consuming this body, soft and gray won't seek the sun anymore doesn't seek the fields to play These arms that could slug through a body, into a heart reverb a soul to get inside a head won't lift anymore because my feet are concrete No head to obey anymore. Free to be enslaved No part of me speaks Free from the world indifferent, ignoring a dying one, once green. 10.17.20 I'm allowed to be sad. Don't take that away. Or, just keep doing what you're doing. Set to ignore. |
| If I could just look in the bathroom mirror and not see the intensity of a thousand bags forming when I first wake up... ...go into full supernova the moment my lips breach the brim, black lava slowly invading my system... ...by evening... dwarf star. 10.15.20 'breach'? when I've had more coffee, reconsider? Before I needed to lay down for a nap: 'Cerebralism tied to idealism in the face of elitism, usually faced down into defeatism. Not much creativism in tank to draw upon anymore. case for the cerebral creationist? creativisionist? Basically high ideas in the face of adversity don't lend to well to an artist trying to express oneself? I think I can boil that down more... ...after I've had more coffee. Better make another pot! It's really just work puke when you get right down to it. There ya go! gc6vl,.=lu3yec9k [m+nv j}vc22x<ds`1! somebody needs to clean that up |
| Pinwheel Dreams Of Flying My mind is a pinwheel But the only thing It's angry about Is being anchored in the ground 10.15.20 "Invalid Item" Become charter member: "The Red Wheelbarrow Activity Forum" get the soon-to-be commissioned MB, access to monthly lessons like "Invalid Item" BLOG: "SuperNova Afterglow: End Of Days" POETRY BLOG: "Poetic Referendum(s) On Life" 2020 WDC Heart Throb Poet:
Published poet, award-winning broadcast journalist, former literary editor, newspaper editor, columnist, professional freelancer writer. |
| So Much For A Camcorder So much depended upon a camcorder always rolling as life passed by and on video tape brief moments that could get lost between eject, insert record/play until one day medium obsolete because so much depends upon VHS cassette player non-HD tv connected by RCA cables and a technician sure of these devices operate until tapes wear thin so much depends upon digital media files transferred from one source to another except it’s expensive devices transferring VHS to CD rare to non-existent and copyright laws depend upon lawyers to repress infringement should you employ these devices steal Hollywood machinations dreams no longer in existence on black-thread film on cassette-reeled tapes since the turn of the century your home movies don’t mean a fuck in a digital age no developer to realize demand to restore memories that we depend upon basement decay ruined in attics our collective in boxes still motion photographs we depend so much upon and foggy memory sorry son can’t show you kicking in mom's belly a grainy print of when she was fat 10.5.20 10.13.20 |
 far from the doorway, windows and ventilation systems by the dumpster in an alleyway, dim-lit, they wear blue beards like amish men -- some ladies with red dragons clenched in teeth, the white sticks dart between drawn mouths and their fingers they roll, inhale these instruments. they wear wise expressions, examine a black vault. brief billows evaporate below the lighted exit. in no hurry, but tension informs the clad feet tap, tap, tapping with excessive over- postulating. their scrubs won't be clean tonight. https://www.military.com/daily-news/2019/08/21/smoking-ban-va-hospitals-will-soo... Original: the blue Amish far from the doorway, windows and ventilation systems by the dumpster in an alleyway, dim-lit, they wear blue beards like Amish men -- some ladies with red dragons clenched in teeth. the white sticks dart between drawn mouths and their fingers they roll, inhale these instruments, don the wise expressions examining a black vault. brief billows evaporate below the lighted exit. in no hurry, but tension informs the clad feet tap, tap, tapping with excessive over- postulating. Their scrubs won't be clean tonight. 10.11.20 I wanted to make this about people who have to wear surgical masks at any work where there's a designated smoking area, a suggestion old habits die hard, even when the stakes are high during a pandemic. But, also know those in medical field, stressed, smoke for relief, though I doubt in scrubs would be allowed. So, I'll get more info to make this cohesive and will consider a poem with a regular work environment theme. |
with your evil intentions to cut me open on this table, disembowel my ingredients--the amniotic--for all to see; I say to you, spare that blade, or I'll haunt your sick desires to slash me for an eternity and forever after. see the dead between my eyes as you cut me to the deep, having emptied my core, so that I will not think anymore . frightened of the monster I have become, you light the flame that glows within my dark skin, ready to begin this forever- more, while rotting at my core. You place me where a world can see eternal soulless apathy resides with a flicker and a flash, as if I might die out, but AHA! I fooled you. I crave even more until every last child's soul is consumed with my eerie-wanton, jagged reflection --that I might expose your waking fear of my insurrection, here upon the stoop for all to witness for eternity. The very thought of me having arms and legs, so I might approach and haunt the likes of you in night -- devour you in dreams with all my might, would be my final glory. "Invalid Item" Become charter member: "The Red Wheelbarrow Activity Forum" get the soon-to-be commissioned MB, access to monthly lessons like "Invalid Item" BLOG: "SuperNova Afterglow: End Of Days" POETRY BLOG: "Poetic Referendum(s) On Life" 2020 WDC Heart Throb Poet:
Published poet, award-winning broadcast journalist, former literary editor, newspaper editor, columnist, professional freelancer writer. |
| Just a thought, looking at a seal on an envelope while taking out recylcing... a scrapbook on a heap of possessions unwanted like her in memory of which she only knew as philatelist the grooved edges, inked markings whether to gently remove, as glue from the base before mounting exquisite gems from envelopes sent the notes within historical keepsakes their own who knows where they've been but for one sentimentalist spared by the innocence of one who would dare keep the legend living on cherish obsessive waste to them just something to pile on a heap of remnants -- a scrapbook. 10.7.20 Thinking how we throw out every little think, rather than collect keepsakes and mementos. This could use further reflection. not a stamp collector, but former scrap-booker. Not a good family archivist, which my mother was. Not a good poem titler. |
| i fired my brain bullets at her fleeting shadow cast across the wall that once towered shaded me where i dared stand in a bright field that i might absorb rays i fired blanks in those days at stationary targets laughing ridiculing admonishing one so foolish as to believe i could play tag beneath the willows chase them until dark into the alleys street by strange houses where neighbors rolled out told me to go home i stood in my front yard and waited for their cheery faces i went to their fields the woods into the dark places my mind would roam until i arrived home and looked at the clock tock tock tock and knew i was out of sorts i fired those brain bullets silent hard into a brick wall i'll never really know if i hit my target but i'll lay in the tall yellow grass alone for awhile and hope the sun will warm me when i wake tomorrow 10.5.20 you want to know if i feel guilty? the one who would be at the bottom of a well shouting for help? who with guile crawled out, got topside? you want to know if i still feel worth? if it's not a well, it's the bottom of a barrel no thanks. i'll take the sun. Reminds me of a scene from Community (NOT that show again!?) Bitter much? Response: Bitter much, much?? Another line from Community (with parody of some movie, I'm sure): We're losing him! Just think darkest timeline |
| when does it end? the self-affirmations to the mirror with just the right amount of lighting that I'm still pretty enough for someone to what? love? respect? stick up for me when down, don't feel the love of self? that once revealed as arrogant bravado only masking insecurity laid upon me from a man more ignorant and shaming? You know you can rise above that? You can break that mirror that informs you to shame yourself even while ageism still exists? So, you dim the light a little more, throw on a ball cap. You eat right, still exercise and boast, though you know... yes, feel that the indifferent eyes aren't the same eyes that once followed you as your roamed, as you dressed to impress, styled and coyly smiled for their appreciation. You don't hold their eyes in your eyes in that mirror. You hold your father's eyes in your memory. Tell yourself you're still beautiful... uh-uh, no looking. 10.5.20 Echoes of that Christina song... |
| What I Stew About She thanked me for the stew she made because I provided the meat, potatoes, carrots and seasoning she combined -- meat seared, potatoes and carrots boiled in separate pots, combined together in the blue roasting pan she placed in the oven. At 350 degrees, waited, then removed the lid, because of the special gravy she created from ingredients I bought (per her instruction) from the grocer. The stew thickened with the sauce, and she said, ‘Thank you’? for her stew? So, I thought: Would an astronaut thank the government for procuring the parts to build the rocket that launched them into orbit, after they put their lives in the hands of scientists and specially trained technicians who built a dream from special ingredients? tried and tested with expert knowledge to fly a craft directly at stars? navigate space beyond, outside our planet and arrive at a floating construct, gravitationally obedient, space station to dock, to remain as trusted scientists? Waiting for another mission, billions invested in outcome of precision technology, successfully launch and arrive to relieve and retrieve them for another presumed successful mission home? to a planet that could suddenly and immediately collapse from something bigger -- economic devastation to an eradicating world virus, stranding them in wondrous space, aboard a silent craft destined for nothing but an eternal, cold walk? Say thank you to a government that would recruit you, train you and trust them with your care? Yes. You’re welcome, and thank you for your sacrifice to prepare US supper. 10.6.20 To my nominators: This is a long, free verse (unstructured) poem (66 lines). -Stew Thank You to my MIL for this poem. Some one wrote 'You are loved' once in my notebook and I launched a similar reverie:
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| Peel bananas and lemons, thrown with yellow squash in the blender, hit puree and wonder what concoction it will render... Add the yellow pages for fiber, a half dozen No. 2 graphites  , too --sharpened by blades dulling, while chopping novel marvel. A light bulb  that glows?not the same if pulled from socket, leave it. Egg yolks, of course, a staple. Why didn't I first think...? Those leggings of hers she never wore, won't notice, along with his trading cards. Bye-bye Pikachu. What's buried deep in this closet? Ugly shoes! Forget it. I'm eyeing that noisy canary, in gilded cage, realize this quest has gone sideways. from beneath the sink, a sponge-minus-bob renders a yellow hue quite crusty, unlike the smooth-scented mop-and-glow from below. Tinge to a drink your toxic show. The chunky concoction I could drink, metaphorically I send down the sink, categorically -- this poem was just for show. 10.5.20 34 lines, vers libre |
| decode me decode me tell me what I am though I'm pretty sure I won't accept your conclusion Everything is open to debate in a restless mind that won't play nice always wondering the rules decode this plain existence give it context depth of meaning and purpose though you are not my maker you must have answers I can digest You must have what I need decode my dream the ones I slept away and forget the ones I made up it's delusion, I know though you might not stand in agreement of this restless soul you must know what it feels like to be lost decode this roadmap I'm supposed to have, follow and are there yellow bricks lining my vision for the horizon? I'm supposed to be following something -- know, it's not you or anything really as I ponder time wasted in these reflections, just decode me. 10.4.20 I'm losing this. No time to edit while I know there are other things I could be doing. |
| ancient Chinese wisdom lacking... she was hollow, gaunt eyed -- a beautiful marigold never changing, dutiful to me. she was vacant as the stare gleaming for mine, always deflecting, reluctant to the charms I longed, as we regressed at the clean metal table in the Szechuan Parlor where we neatly packed away red meat with vegetables in a pale winter scene, conversing regularly until she found someone less available who could reject tormented vision not as accepting as an idealist who learned to eat alone with Chinese takeout -- grease bags hold her memory. 10.4.20 I'm obsessed with unresolved memory. I couldn't think of a good title, constrained by time. |
| I already need a nap at 7 a.m. The quiet quashes — early. My thin knees need light for courage, tip-toe about a cat sleeping on the steps going down to the kitchen where the coffee maker should remain silent, too. Laptop warmly reawakens, flashes a pleasing view for idle hands aching -- but the mind cannot ponder words, but worry if hunger disturbs. Digitally glowing, unable to employ the squawksome microwave. I sit by a reflective window that sees me in this cell. Outside is heaven and black with one street light -- wonder of a wayward moon -- wonder —. when the sun will appear, why I just couldn't stay in bed when a fitful mind disturbs a poet early -- a caged writer with hungry cats begging the can opener -- a museless fool who cannot steam ground bean into flavor morning richly deserves. I write words like these to myself — can opener like an open letter to a world that isn't watching, sleepy as me who only employs a head, with fingers —. and these keys marking a dim, lonely screen. Even the car keys would jangle -- fire a vehicle within a garage groaning it must lift open, that I might find freedom from this space I should not disturb, woken early to desire, something outside this barrier. 10.4.20 7.6.22 just another ode to being considerate to others when I wake too early and might get yelled at if I make too much noise with my need for creativity. |
| The Annoyance Her annoyance is a man who drums fingers on the table Shakes his legs mindlessly when on the bed His habit of chewing his nails Putting off appointments for a haircut His excessive breathing after climbing the stairs How he eats food too fast, gets indigestion Or sips the drinks he savors She's annoyed with the way he goes on Unable to appease her by getting to the point Never wanting to visit with her family Stays home when they could eat out Because he's not hungry Rather not visit halls of somewhere Leaving her and just the kids His annoyance -- is hers 9.9.20 added 9.30.20 |
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— 21
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— 29![Merit Badge in Shadows and Light
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A huge congratulations, to you!
You have won a very deserved Honourable Mention in [Link To Item #shadows] , round 112 *^*Smile*^*
Rachel](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Shadows_and_Light-1936078_14.gif)
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Brian,
Congratulations! You won 1st Place in [Link To Item #shadows] with your fantastic poem, [Link to Book Entry #1037176]. Fabulous writing!
Rachel](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Shadows_=38_Light_II-1936078_14.gif)
— 9
MAY 
37![Merit Badge in Coffee Award
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Congratulations on placing 2nd in [Link To Item #2182602] with your poem, [Link to Book Entry #1031722]. *^*Coffeeo*^* Kindest Regards, Lilli](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Coffee_Award-2149524_14.gif)
APRIL 
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Congratulations on the third place win at [Link To Item #hpc] for your poem: [Link to Book Entry #1030482]. Thanks for making me laugh, and keep writing the funny stuff! *^*Bigsmile*^* ~Lornda A.K.A. The Queen of Comedy *^*Crown*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Humorous_Poetry_Contest-1875103_14.gif)
MARCH 
![Merit Badge in Contests
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CONGRATULATIONS for winning 2nd place in [Link To Item #2254385] !!](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/genre-Contests-235.gif)
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Thank you for your participation in the 48-HOUR CHALLENGE: " Thank You by Dido ." Media Prompt hosted by [Link To User support] March 2022! We appreciate that you tackled this challenge... *^*Smile*^* *^*Thumbsupl*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/WDC-WDC_Media_Prompt.gif)
![Merit Badge in Good Things Take Time
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Here's to a world where we wouldn't have to keep reciting the words woven in your excellent poem [Link to Book Entry #1027990].](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/Kudos-Good_Things_Take_Time.gif)
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Thank you so much for your poem [Link to Book Entry #1026670]! Please don’t ever stop being you, both as a writer and a visionary of love!](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/genre-Gay_Lesbian-680.gif)
JANUARY 
18
![Merit Badge in Quill Award
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Congratulations on winning Best Medium-Length Poem, Free Verse in the 2021 edition of The Quills!](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Quill_Award-1375927_6.gif)
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Thank you for your generous donation to [Link To Item #quillhome] ! *^*Quill*^* Every donation is used to celebrate WdC while recognizing quality work and acknowledging community involvement. Kindest Regards, Lilli](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Quill_Sponsor-1375927_6.gif)
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Congratulations on winning 1st Place in the September 2022 round of [Link To Item #quotation] !](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/WDC-Quotation_Inspiration.gif)
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Congratulations on winning day 6 of The Daily Poem Sept 2022!](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/genre-Artistic-125.gif)
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From [Link To User jayne] : With my apologies for the Redaction Poem prompt mishap. Thank you for taking on the challenge! I hope to see you next time for a redaction-free week of fun at [Link To Item #dailypoem] !](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/general-Problem_Solving-210.gif)
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Congratulations on being our Honorable Mention in March of 2022 at [Link To Item #2216416] !
Blessings, Sharmelle](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Inspiring_Love_For_Poetry-2259846_14.gif)
![Merit Badge in Action Adventure
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CONGRATULATIONS for [Link To Item #2229211] winning place as an Honourable Mention in [Link To Item #2254385] !](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/genre-Action_Adventure-100.gif)
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For placing 3rd in the Bard's Hall Blogging Contest, June 2022](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Bard=s_Hall_Blogging_Merit_Badge-2094227_12.gif){kind=icon}
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Congratulations on your 1st Place win in the April 2022 Round of Chapter One! Great entry! *^*Smile*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Chapter_1-2251918_14.gif)
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A work of art which did not begin in emotion is not art.
― Paul Cezanne
Thanks for your participation in my 'art' challenge via my notebook feed.
Keep on being inspired! *^*Bigsmile*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/Kudos-Every_Moment_Matters.gif)
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CONGRATULATIONS on [Link To Item #1145690] winning a place in "Honorable Mentions" in [Link To Item #2254385]](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/Kudos-Brilliant.gif)
