Write With Adora

Reset.

Open. Close. 

Better yet, hang it on the door.

I’ll wait until no one is around,

So I can freely stick my head out,

Grab between my fingers, hold tight,

Take command, break night;

And then, slowly, unbutton, unzip, untie,

Uninhibited simulations of what it holds

To get a glimpse of what could come to be.

On. Off.

Or perhaps, a fixed blank stare; that, 

Leaves me unable to read 

What your eyes now eagerly try to disclose.

I can’t understand them for mine remain

Distant in that blank stare you first gave

When you shook my hands, and politely tried to

Fake delight, when it actually resided elsewhere.

In. Out. 

Or right in between. Stuck in the middle.

Too afraid to move

Up or down; 

    a definite position is terrifying to embrace.

Living halfway, just as unbearable.

What to do, I ask myself, over burnt toast

     and an emptying glass of hope.

Wait, replies the draft that escapes from under the door.

Same door that hung uninhibited simulations

Of what could come to be, but hasn’t yet come to pass.

Reset. Wait… Enjoy. 

By Ginel Salvador

 

 

To Sun

Sun who feels the changing of day

Modestly like an unending

Cycle of beautiful life

How fortunate! For us

That we may live on this earth!

 

O Sun! Be thankful

Of your people’s worship

You are one of many names

Yet in the end, you are the same

As Sunset you are a beauty show, the

Winding-down of the day

 

As Sunrise you are majestic

Like a queen you rise

To greet your subjects

Hope disguised in gold

How fortunate we are! Yet often

Ignorant of your beauty and

Importance!

 

Without you what would life be

On this world shadowed in darkness?

Colorless, tasteless and bland

Without you to guide the plants to sprout

There is a fragile cycle of life

Of which you are the beginning

 

And as you age, ever more

Stunning

Your sunset deeper

Of more marbled shades

So becoming to your

Perfect figure

Let us embrace you

When you come, for

How fortunate! For us

That we may live on this earth!

Two queens poem - by Ginel Salvador

(I would appreciate your critique on this) Queen of Concealment. And, Queen of acetate White. The wind does not discriminate When it dances with their hair; Yet luck has kissed Concealment’s fleshy cheeks And teases the other with a song of promised favor. In Whiteness, all colors can shine through, But Black keeps the eye comfortably unaware… Too much of a good thing can overwhelm, and too much of a bad thing numbs. Such intoxicating stupefaction has the starved and thirsty peasantry feeding off of poisoned dishes and salted water. Foods that, in the darkness of their senses, they can’t tell is killing them…  Translucent queen can only offer reality: A basket with a few rotten apples, almost stale bread, and forgettable meals; blended ups and downs, balanced joy and sorrow, a melancholic smile with bright, beaming eyes, sharp words laced with the softest whisper of good will, The beauty of variety entwined with the calming consolation of imperfection… This Raw queen’s heart longs for an embrace that won’t break at the sight of tantrums or demands of affection, and This queen weeps because no one can withstand the clarity. Capricious, sweet queen; and, Tempestuous, genuine queen. Hidden trash is better than exposed truths, it seems. Pretense has become the Capricious queen’s favorite perfume, and she wears it under the sheets and when she speaks to God.   Pretense has become the Explosive queen’s most hated scent, yet she is forced to breathe in its stench. However, in the end, light swallows the shadows and truth triumphs over the best construed lies. The queens are left to mend themselves: one for murdering all who loved her, and the other one to clean up the carcasses.  Ginel Salvador

candyland - by Adora Svitak

The Power of Friendship (written for a homesick friend)

Submitted by Sarah.

The world may seem a lonely place

Where comfort is brought by a familiar face

And when one travels far from home

And finds themself so, so alone,

It is hard to find warmth, and comfort, and care,

When you’re far away, and your loved ones aren’t there.

When thought of them brings on a tear,

Being far from the ones whom you hold most dear,

It is hard to be brave, to be bold, to be strong,

But to feel alone can’t be nearer to wrong!

Because no matter how far away they are,

They’ll love you forever, you’re their shining star.

So whether you’re sad, or you’re caught in a snare,

Remember: your friends will always be there.

Anonymous asked: Can we submit some haiku poetry?

Of course!

Anonymous asked: how we can continue to write and write without feeling bored? I love writing novels, but sometimes I'm bored and I made not to continue writing.

Try writing about really crazy ideas that you haven’t dreamed up since childhood. That should bring anyone out of a bored funk :) But it totally is possible to over-write; sometimes you just need to take a break and switch to another creative activity like dance or drawing, or maybe even try some geometry, to appreciate writing again.

Anonymous asked: hey, do you give critique? thanks!

Not really, just because I’m super busy this year, but I definitely edit the work that gets uploaded here to WWA if it needs editing to meet the blog’s guidelines.

Anonymous asked: Have you ever read any of Rabindranath Tagore's poetry before? What types of poems do you usually write?

Yes, I have! I’m a big fan of “Let My Country Awake.”
I used to write pretty much exclusively rhyming poems, but now I write a ton of free verse stuff. You can check out a lot of my recent poems at adorapoems.blogspot.com (I post pretty much everything here, so it can be a mixed bag) to see more of my style (to the extent that I have one.)

Sharing Poetry: Nicolette Stasko, "The Moth and the Moon"