Creative Writing for the Creator

A dam in a river blocks (the natural flow of water) Creates a reservoir  To produce hydraulic power A river dammed:  A claustrophobic sight Walled up (and waiting) To breathe its suspended sigh Every heart is a river Yet some have been dammed  No passage: blockage. Hoarded emotions repressed Those obstructed hearts hoard  Their frugal, stingy 'heart-draulic' energy What will happen to that artery? (Will love ever stretch out of such misery?) The dam in the river. The dam in the heart. Consider the river...  Consider your heart.  

Something lives on the inside of me. I am possessed . It burns me. I melt. Is it Molten Lava?  It roars inside me. I hear it. Is it a Lion? It runs in my veins. I am taken by its force. Is it a River?  POSSESSION?  I will tell you the true story: Once upon a time, there was this girl... And this girl knew she had been created for the good. But she felt deeply separated from the Creator. Nothing she could ever dream could fill the void inside of her.  She talked to a tree, talked to her dolls and pets...  She read stories, drew, sang, danced... Still no answer to her empty heart.  No meaning to her laugh or tears. A long succession of days and nights. Emotions, words, actions, all so senseless.  Motions, motionless. Sounds, deafened. Until one day she heard the Truth. The Truth said that she had a choice. That she could open the door to the true Savior. His name, Jesus. The Great I AM. The One who had died for her.

Que delicioso reviver as musiquinhas da minha infância ! Can çõ es que mam ã e cantava e a crian ç ada ainda adora... Essas cantigas  que também cantei com os meus filhos... (e, quem sabe, cantarei com os meus netos?) Ah, aqueles shows de teatro infantil O entusiasmo nas carinhas dos pequeninos  (e dos pais e av ó s, claro!) Esta  é  uma das minhas favoritas: SABI Á  L Á  NA GAIOLA Sabiá lá na gaiola fez um buraquinho, Voou, voou, voou, voou E a menina que gostava tanto do bichinho, Chorou, chorou, chorou, chorou Sabiá fugiu do terreiro, Foi cantar no abacateiro E a menina vive a chamar Vem cá, sabiá, vem cá A menina diz soluçando, Sabiá estou te esperando, Sabiá responde de lá, Não chores que eu vou voltar... (Ser á  que ele vai voltar?)

SPRING is here! Uh-oh: Spring cleaning (and the TO-DO LISTS!) I don't know about you, but I am a list maker I am a 'jot-downer' I love tables, bullets, numbers, topics  ... and subtopics (Is that a sign of a cluttered mind in need of release?) I hate to even write this, but... ... would this mean STRESS??? When life gets too hectic, it usually starts in the mind! So much information. .. ... creating the need for more information... (like scratching  the itch that itches and spreads its 'itchy-bug' or  eating a small piece of chocolate  and catching the 'cocoa-craving') List it and hate it! This online world, too, can be overwhelming! Links leading to links Association to association Thought to thought Like plucking the first feather out of a pillow...  and watching the second come out  (and pulling it out too, followed by its feathery followers!) Or popping bubbles on an (almost) endless bubble wrap sheet!

Meu teclado americano sem acento Vai acabar me enlouquecendo E fico, assim, tentando evitar erros de ortografia (Sou exigente, tenho um 'olho' pra enxergar errinhos assim, rapidinho!...) Sem agudo, circunflexo, crase Sem cedilha, til... Nada disso! Rimas? Menos ainda! Na fala, acento cem por cento fica no som apenas Na grafia, a dificuldade aumenta Pela falta que faz o teclado brasileiro Foi quando minha irmazinha me perguntou: "Que tal eu te enviar um teclado brasileiro?" Dito e feito! Mas ainda tinha que configurar o bendito! (Seria o Benedito?) Tentei a pesquisa online Para configurar meu teclado brasileiro Li tantos sites e dicas (Inserindo acentos de uma tabela do Word Atalhos, aplicativos...) Que nem sei mais o que fazer Essa falta de acentos de grafia Vai acabar me enlouquecendo E foi assim que, exausta da batalha configurativa Decidi encontrar o positivo Que a escrita sem acento me permite: Comecei a treinar minha mente: Enqu

O que foi criado primeiro, o ovo ou a galinha? O que precede a escrita criativa? Pensamento, linguagem, palavras, tudo interligado! Resultado? Arte. Sou poeta!

This is the title of a song by Kathy Troccoli: "A Baby's Prayer" And below are the lyrics...  Read and listen with your heart...    Imagine... If a baby could talk, this baby had a prayer to say: I can hear her talking with a friend I think it's all about me Oh how she can't have a baby now My mommy doesn't see That I feel her breathe, I know her voice Her blood, it flows through my heart God you know my greatest wish is that We'd never be apart But if I should die before I wake I pray her soul you'll keep Forgive her Lord, she doesn't know That you gave life to me Do I really have to say goodbye Don't want this time to be through Oh please tell her that I love her Lord And that you love her too Cause if I should die before I wake I pray her soul you'll keep Forgive her Lord, she doesn't know That you gave life to me On the days when she may think of me Please comfort her wi