Every now and then
With every grip of the pen
I’m reminded of the art form
That is poetry.
An art shunned
In relative environments
A point of view
I liken to saw dust
Protruding on my shoulder,
I brush it off.
The survival of poetry
Has gone beyond the days
Of the achromatic overlay,
Painting pictures with words
Naturally with cross-over ability
Colorful ideas are portrayed.
With my mind and pen in hand
I fight to close the generation gap
To show otherwise indifferent individuals.
That the art is
By no means
– Original-Dante ©2016
Photograph by: BenHeine
Daily Prompt – Survival
Look no further
For a glimpse,
Of hope and direction,
As the sun
Does more than play a part,
In lighting the sky
With the most elaborate bonfire.
– Original-Dante ©2016
Photograph by: chevyhax
Daily Prompt – Hope
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Golden Hour.”
6:00AM: the best hour of the day, or too close to your 3:00AM bedtime?
– I’m pretty sure this poem will answer the question: A Taste of First Light
Congrats — you’ve been handed a robot whose sole job is to relieve you of one chore, job, or responsibility you particularly hate. What is it?
If the prototype name didn’t already give it away, the only thing I need this robot to do for me is wash the dishes. I have so much experience in the field It would be nice to have someone else share the, um, privilege. 😀
The Daily Post – You, Robot
Daily Prompt: An extra room has magically been added to your home overnight. The catch: if you add more than three items to it, it disappears. How do you use it?
I’ve always wanted a room filled with absolutely nothing. Don’t get me wrong, I love furniture and all it has to offer, but sometimes, I want to be in an environment that reminds me of absolutely nothing. No pictures, no chairs, no colour patterns, just plain white. A space in which I can lie down on the floor and meditate, provided the room is sound-proof.
The reason for this is quite simple, at times when I’m alone I like to close my eyes and picture myself in certain places. Sometimes I’ll be by a waterfall, sometimes I’ll be in the desert, it provides escapism. However, I never feel fully immersed, because when i’m in my room and I start trying to clear my mind *BAM!* someone slams a door in the next room, or someone screams and hinders my concentration.
This extra room would be perfect, I enter, close the door, and sit (yes, on the floor). I wouldn’t have to worry about noise or any other hindrances. From what I hear, if you concentrate long enough you can tap into the part of your brain that stores your memories, among other things. This magic room, would be the perfect instigator to such an achievement in my point of view.
The portal, to my Mind Palace.
The Daily Post – Breathing Room
The idea that the weather and people’s moods are connected is quite old. Do you agree? If yes, how does the weather affect your mood?
The rain, it always gives me ideas. The way the sound of raindrops dominates and makes all other sounds seem irrelevant. I believe many would agree with me that they love sleeping to the rain’s lullaby.
Second in line, is overcast. The different shades of grey in the sky always give me peace. I’ve never really been fond of the sun, or summer for that matter. I only like the sun for light, that’s pretty much it. The heat part I can do without; I easily get sweaty palms.
When it starts to snow, am I the only one who feels like celebrating Christmas? Sometimes half-expecting to see a man with a strong fondness for red, on a flying sleigh. I believe the weather changes my mood at times, but not all the time. When it does however, I get a wave of inspiration like no other.