Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Building a Community of Writers

Within every human soul is the gift of writing, whether we believe this is so or not. Everyone has a thought deep inside. Some thoughts explode on paper and some through oral communication. Others do not surface because of a lack of confidence in the writing process. As an educator and a proponent of writing, I have always encouraged others to have their voice take flight. 

Words can come forth and flow if we just let them float freely, proudly to paper. 

Join me this month in a March Madness campaign. 

As Springtime is ready to burst open, let your words explode.

STOP, JOT, SHARE your thoughts:
Pen to Paper
Keyboard to Print
Tweet to PLN

All thoughts welcomed.

Let's bring together a community of writers!

As Ernest Hemingway once said, 
"We are all apprentices in a craft where no one ever becomes a master."



Thoughts that have taken flight:

Reflecting in the Stillness of March
Carol Varsalona

As March briskly marches in 
Time bows its head and Winter salutes
Reflection jumps forward
And all launch their campaigns.
Winter lingers.
Time fidgets.
Reflection pauses
In the cold stillness.
March holds on tight
To stop the madness
But Time passes by,
Letting Daylight pass through 
While Spring awaits its resurrection

Kevin Hodgson

Somewhere below,
flowers bloom just out of sight
color explosions below the surface-
and all we see is the white of snow
smothering Spring like some criminal
on the loose.

Back on track – back in focus by Starr Sackstein
In honor of "Reflecting in the stillness of March," I wanted to share a short poem in reflection of today. 

Incapsulated in a moment, insufferable frustration.
Adolescent regression like falling into the rabbit hole, 
Temporarily drowning in the anguish of senioritis diffused
And suffocating  beneath the weight of authoritative decree.

Resonating power oscillates outward from the source,
a lone teacher, deftly avoiding opportunity 
to demonstrate what not to do for her mirror,
a room full of eager minds
looking to the beacon.

Resilience, the destination of sorted injustice
Time, the cure for misguided mumblings
easing into the ample arms of acceptance
with genial gratitude for those backs which bore the weight
of the momentary mental transgression.

The water sits now, unrippled  and serene
Beneath the cover of a cloudless sky
Ever so remarkable is the placid easement
elucidated by the echo
of the bell.
On March Madness
Richard Varsalona

Nothing more frustrating
about the March Madness experience
than watching your team
eliminated in first game
by a team they were supposed
to Easily Defeat!

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