An Artist, Photographer, Writer, Poet

Daily Archives: October 3, 2013


Prompt:   Write  a Poem

about Why We wrote

that very first poem.



Accidental Poet



I don’t remember

the first “real poem”

I wrote.

When I started writing,

at first it at was journal style,

and  I would break the sentences

down poetry style

so I could edit them.


They were unintentional

free form poems.

I have poems from the


that just popped

into my head

and I wrote them down.


In school I must have had

some reference to poetry,

and I have a small collection

of poetry books

from over the years.


In the mid-nineties

I met a man, a poet,

that taught at University.

To this day I can remember


“What can he teach

…. what is there about poetry

that can be  enough

to teach so someone

can get a  PhD.”


Along came a memoir class,

and I had gotten a computer.

I needed prompts/inspirations

and started Googling.

It was October

and there were


that filled my mind

to over flowing


Along came dVerse


“Imaginary Toads”


I found out how a poet

must work, and sometimes

meet difficult standards

…. oh my goodness,

out of the dark gray matter,

I realize somewhere

…high school

or nursing school

I learned about

poetry rhyme and meter

and different styles.


So my answer to

where do I get inspiration?

From the dear folks

on the poetry blogs.

It has opened

up a new world

for me…

thank goodness.


The prompts

swirl around

in the subconscious

of my mind,

And all of a sudden,

a something I read,

see,  hear,  a news story,

starts the flow of words.


I guess you can call me

an accidental poet.








Two siblings
one knew there was three
one didn’t have a clue.
Family secret
but not a secret.
Just being kind it was said. *
Two siblings.
No clue about the other
as a person.
but true.
Time is of essence
to get to know
each other.
Younger on West coast
Older on coast
of Downeast Maine.
It is said,
that a lifetime
goes by in a flash.
By golly
that is so true.
Decades passed,
with only holiday cards
Two siblings.
Matriarch and Patriarch
of their birth family.
Two monarchies:
centuries apart
or years apart.
No difference. 
There is more
than just distance
 between the siblings. 
But that is
the rest
of the story.
*  There was a sister,
born between the two.
She lived a month,
then never spoken about
to save the Mother
pain of remembering….
I believe
she never forgot
about the middle child
and the pain
was deep,
’til the day the
Mother died.




pilgrims  ~  scholars  seek


secrets  hidden  by  wind  ~  stars


stones will not  break down