Today Marks A Year Since I've Started This Blog. I'm Thrilled To Express My Appreciation To All The Wonderful

Today marks a year since I've started this blog. I'm thrilled to express my appreciation to all the wonderful people I've met here.

Last Feb 1st, I had little idea where this poetry writing pursuit would lead to but then that's art. We do it because we love it, no matter where it leads us.

Over the year, so much has changed yet some things stayed the same like they always do. Through it all, there has been so much support from the community of poets, writers and artists. I hope we keep supporting each other this way.

This blog is open to prompts, collaborations and is a safe space ♡

Love,

The Creaky Writer

Our planet has finished another lap round the sun and while it did, billions of stories occurred through our experiences and actions.

As we live through them, walk, run, fall and fly, I wish you all a happy new year.

I hope you usher in 2022 with the ever relentless hope and have a great year 🌌 ✨

Strum Of The Strings

There goes the melody

That tugs at the strings of hearts

Craves the companionship of nobody

A beckoning of the calm it imparts

With backs bent double over stress

And mind laden with worry

A note to elate from the distress

Disguised as melancholy’s place of bury

As the sweet tantalizing of the strum

Promises tunes soothing to the soul

No matter what tongue it comes from

So competent of making a part whole

An ocean of emotion you may feel

A thousand feelings to the forth it brings

To hear and to heal

There’s nothing you can’t express with the strum of the strings

More Than Meets The Eye

There is so much more than what meets the eye

One runs when they’ve learnt to fall

One smiles when they’ve learnt to cry

Yet, there is so much about triumph that beguiles the folks

That which shades your struggle 

As do the tallest of oaks

The darkling of the day and the rising of the sun

Every time, all the time

Are but the vestiges of a reminder that could evade none

That every ounce of light

Was born from taunting darkness

That every trouble gives an opportunity to harness

And know that the most dazzling glory

Is found relished by the bravest of hearts

And every struggling person in the story

Concludes with the brightest of sparks

Two Cloaked Figures

Two cloaked figures at the end of the street

Sneaking and lurking in the dark of the moonless night

Beware of their nimble hands, lest there be knives in their robes



How would we know they don’t possess knives but only scars?

Scars from their bondage and resistance, hollow trust enveloping like second nature

A path to choice they seek, to a free nowheresville and to life



Two cloaked figures at the end of the street

Sneaking and lurking in the dark of the moonless night

Beware of their fiery spirits and eager appetites



I would know that they’d steal your hearts and make you want to fly

Two cloaked figures at the end of the street

Two lives inspiring hundreds, if only we would see

-The Creaky Writer

Anticipation

Days spent in a haze

With anticipation the hours glaze

Along with the hurrying wind

Racing and hurtling with adventure it brimmed

Nearing the nightfall and a thousand moments later

The midnight sea roars as it does with ardor

Sleepless nights and starless skies

A void showing the deepest possibilities that belie

-The Creaky Writer