Day 16: January Mindful Writing Challenge

Ink falling by MycatkinsNew Vegan

Her first tattoo –

brand against branding,
badge of compassion;

ink from animal bones.

Gareth Trew

*

We’re on the sixteenth day of the January Mindful Writing Challenge - please post your small stone in the comments below. If you’re not already signed up, our 31 Days of Waking Up daily email package was designed to accompany you during this (or any) month of mindful writing. Keep writing!

Ink falling by Mycatkins

Comments & replies

64 thoughts on “Day 16: January Mindful Writing Challenge

  1. Linda

    My pen creates lives that never existed.
    Gives them feelings, hopes and dreams, free will.
    They grow, become individual,
    make decisions,
    deal with consequences.
    They become real.
    They exist.

    Reply
    1. oakhart

      Isn’t that interesting, especially when you think thoughts become things.
      Lots of parallel universes out there thenx

      Reply
  2. Brinda

    *****

    bold and beautiful
    the croccus flowers jump
    within sight only a few inches
    away from the heavy shoes
    of civilisation’s fuss
    over beauty
    polished outside
    empty inside

    the croccus colours
    beam with delight
    their pistils charged
    with the sweetness
    of a new day
    the softness of breasts
    ripe with milk

    *****

    Reply
  3. Kay Walker

    Her bright roundness shines down upon me
    Shines upon osprey I met this morning
    Shines upon eagle I met this afternoon
    Goodnight my grandmother moon
    Goodnight my winged ones
    Dreamtime is at hand

    Reply
  4. Susan Sleepwriter

    The platform seems to quaver beneath my feet. I realise it is me. My pulsing blood after running for the train.

    Reply
  5. Maaike Klaster

    Dutch:

    Adem in
    Geluid van kreukelend denim
    Adem uit
    Hetzelfde geluid

    English:

    Breathing in.
    Sound of denim wrinkling.
    Breathing out. Same sound.

    Reply
  6. A.D. Stankowicz

    It doesn’t matter
    that I cannot see
    the whisper and growl
    of the ocean before me,
    that hides
    behind
    the dense
    morning fog

    Reply
  7. JulesPaige

    a tanka:
    tried and true
    *
    trepidation – gone
    no excuses left – to do
    that list an arm long
    *
    service not needed this time -
    home again; jiggity rhyme…
    *
    ©JP/davh

    Reply
  8. Kathy Nguyen

    grandmother,
    today I thought of the ache
    of losing you to cancer–
    I kept going back
    to when I stroke your hair
    as you rested on my lap

    ***

    these small tears
    mean little as they
    won’t bring you back–
    driving home I watch
    a young hawk thread its wings
    into the deepest pine wind

    Reply
  9. Lizzie Carver

    Tears punch upwards
    As I return the last dress my mother wore to the very back of the drawer I rarely explore.

    Reply
  10. Nicole

    This has been a day of rain.
    I planted a few oignons given by a friend.
    Hope it wasn’t in vain
    Winter time is coming to an end… Well…
    Soon !

    Reply
  11. Paul L. White

    A gentle hand assistance gives
    To change the way this person lives;
    And I incline in gratitude
    For comfort which is soon ensued.
    *
    Oh, how life matters More to some
    Than shadows, masks, or gains to come.
    In place of social malcontent,
    Their acts of kindness woes prevent.
    *
    And I, in turn, must better be
    At reaching out in kind to Thee!

    Reply
  12. SM Jenkin

    Yellow, blue, green,
    white, pink, purple
    repeat

    like every other dark
    afternoon inside the single
    story extension. Perched on the
    back of the ex-council house
    next door

    Yellow, blue, green,
    white, pink, purple
    repeat

    lights flash in succession
    through the window of the single story
    extension
    and the spaces in the arm of the tree
    next door

    Reply
  13. Kylie Whyte

    the willow’s usually elegant fingers are now pointed angrily
    at the fierce and gusty sky
    electricity flying in all directions

    Reply
  14. sue

    Moments before setting,
    slipping beneath
    the grey cloud blanket,
    Rumplestiltskin sun
    turns hillsides of straw
    to gold.

    January 16, 2014

    Reply
  15. larry p

    My little brown friend and I
    see a fox dash into the small woods
    they’re hoping to raze for housing.
    Last night, three bunnies
    dashed off similarly.
    Br’er fox, it seems,
    knows where to be.

    Reply
  16. Julie Gengo

    Big Orange Cat – #smallstone
    Day 16: January Mindful Writing Challenge

    Big Orange Cat

    Big orange cat
    Paws spread out like eagle wings
    Paint chipped house blends into the background

    Reply
  17. De Jackson

    Good Night, Moon

    I’d slip her into my pocket
    if I could, this shivered slip
    of silvered sigh. The sky’s
    her bulletin board and she’s
    pinning something just for
    me: the silence of these trees,
    the glow of her own song.

    Reply
  18. Carol A. Stephen

    I thought I had already posted this, but it doesn’t seem so: Jan. 16, 2014

    Truly to sing takes another kind of breath.
    A breath in the void. A shudder in God. A wind. – Rilke

    Some days the poems flow, words
    tumble one over the next, as if they
    come from somewhere beyond thought.

    But as I try to write the dark shadowed words—
    as thought turns inwards—

    I become blind and mute. Today,
    I stumble and tremble to sing my song.

    –CAS

    Reply
  19. Nerissa

    Sore swallow
    With aching narrowed voice.
    I am thick-throated

    I dream dense and sweet
    Of hot honeyed potion.
    I am fever-floating.

    Reply
  

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