Sometimes I have no idea of what to put on my watercolor paper. Today was one of those days. I like drawing lines with my dip pen (more so with the broad tipped nibs than the more narrow tips). My pen strokes weren’t as smooth as I would have liked. Instead of fullness of convex […]
whoop whoop, hello to my dear readers
the big reveal is finally here, honestly trying to come up with a poem every week or month is a hassle and it drained me emotionally , since i need inspiration to write but there is something i have daily inspiration about which is writing on things yes ! i know how to rant in a peaceful and angry way because it can be triggered and i can go either way excessive happiness or sadness and the only way i release it by yes ‘writing ‘
we are going to call this the on series
so my non computer tech self will try her optimum best to design a new segment for this series insha Allah.
The series starts on 14th of may 2017 , this sunday that is
i can’t even begin to imagine where the time flew to , it just went by like a snap this blog is officially two years old, i know i have been MIA for the past few months but I’m back and better hopefully.
my special thanks from the bottom of my heart yes !( you, you know the
half hearted thank you) to all my readers from the thoughts club
Dear Lady Justice, You are here without a summons. Voices insist you be taken upstairs to crowds waiting to watch you, hear you proclaim their imperative. Refuse, at last, dirty from use, long stationed in rooms of churning bile and duty shirked. Move outside now free as spring’s robins. Have […]
Dear Lady Justice,
You are here without a summons.
Voices insist you be taken
upstairs to crowds waiting
to watch you, hear you proclaim
their imperative. Refuse, at last,
dirty from use, long stationed in rooms
of churning bile and duty shirked.
Move outside now free as spring’s robins.
Have nothing of these scripted circuses.
Search for space not up for auction
by men who claim you without scales,
without blindfold. Rip off that gown,
grey, tattered, and go among trees
thin as girls’ legs. See small waving
fronds, the hands of children who need you
to pick them up right now and run.
Copyright 2017 Billy Clem
i have been having a writers block for quite some time now, well i almost forgot about my blog for quite some time, until yesterday , yes chordates is about to take me where invertebrates never did, school has been hectic. my sister was ill all through february , but yay I’m about to start something really cool, so guys stay tuned and apologies for the lack of poetry posts, well its a copyright thing until i renew my blogs copyright and others i can’t post new things much but my wattpad is there for you.
In the detail from Botticelli’s painting, the one of the oranges in their deep green trees at twilight, I’m able to feel it again. As a child, I didn’t see the brush strokes but the painter’s pure vision, standing between the real and the oils that caught it. What floats between the thing and […]