A run by fruiting is how I see poetry,

tis like a woman questioning,

‘should I change it or just let it be,’

by adding more accessories

to add proper balance and fit

showing off my best, so…

Do I add ‘splash and punch’

to this poem

or accent it with tenderness?”

Build structured blocks of thought-

slowly entwining aligning

sorting through invisible connecting dots…

a writer seems to weave

placing here and there

drapes with ocean views

giving words character

which are polished

then caressed using finesse

Create movement based on images-

‘a man frog tosses a pebble

skipping it across a pond,’

then rearrange so it sounds…

‘a man tosses a frog across a pond,

like a skipping pebble, similar to James Bond’

Direct flow and sprinkle Words’ with water-

*don’t overpower with fertilizer*

give each word a voice

give them life, not laziness

give poetry depth,

with room to grow in an alligator pond

~filled with six-star reviewers~

*nourish ripe tomatoes*

cherish the blooms

working, trimming, weeding the dirt

on your knees with a hoe,

forgetting not to flirt…

please remain noble

Evolving an idea-

is sometimes not that easy;

it is like stealing a pirate’s map,

tossing his crap then sailing

over a shallow reef,

as he sleeps underneath

a blanket of morning stars

shining like Chernobyl

Forge long-ass streaming sentences past your knees

then double back baby to yer heart does beat

and please don’t breathe till you have reached the floor

falling slowing down normal rhyming meter

switching gears while following

the leader dropping a meter

pick up from the beginning as the ocean does roar

then recite Macbeth in furbelow whilst holding your breath

and asking for more

Gather images by tossing fish to a barking seal-

visualize walking into the scene

apply to paper, use scissors rearranging the decor

Hold tender moments-

whittle ideas

toasting life’s breath

by using crystal-like sentences

being real, opening self
Ink and paper write it on a pad

where you can jot down Ideas

when a computer can’t be had

~ write it on a pad~

frog jumps into idea

mac clogged swamped unplugged

Journeys begin my friend

by throwing words upon paper,

then editing, thereby releasing stinkers,

which might sour more than soar

and where they drop and float no more

adding lessons learned to your drawers

Keep to a schedule and make a list,

they really work, from eight to ten walk and so on,

wrangling words will wait

and when you are ready to run,

make it a steady pace

Let’s blow this whole thing up

and change to stylish lace

and kick this can,

down the road to a more

secure and secluded place

May you always write with faith and feeling

Not knowing where it leads

Only stopping to…

Pause, if only stopping to breathe

Quilt words

into mathematical directional patterns,

remembering too,

thesaurus’s rule!

Relax; stroll alone in thought,

absorbing moments, breathe and wait for sparks,

turning ideas into fuel

Stay not hypnotized, and if that occurs

please exercise, till ideas begin to brew

Truly write in visuals thinking outside the box-

as the parade of beautiful outriggers

begin to whisper past

and palm trees gently sway,

we stir our morning tea

as our jaws begin to drop

in my cup goes a seagulls plop

Upside down in a juggling mess-

like this monster

which I have trimmed till it

overflowed into a coffee pot brewing

full of grounds and sediment

still, I’m filtering diamonds, rubies and wine,

then sip

slowly stirring, looking for twigs

till contest deadline

Vibrate words, using commas,

sort and sift, then read aloud to self

Waltz with your poem,

take it for a spin,

and see if it holds passion,

if so click send

X marks the spot where I freeze in time,

but in closing remember to add mystery

within subtle lines, it can hide until discovered

with an “Aha,”

revealing artistry refined

Yoda made me write this thing

that guy who looks like bubble-gum.

Just one more stinking line…

I’ll get that dirty scum

Zorro, zesty, zany, who can make an anything using a Z, not me?

My pacing back and forth turns me into a nervous lady,
while waiting for reviews, so with tissues by my side…
you must please excuse,

‘Mrs Doubtfire,’ needs lots of Tequila shots. Cheers.”