Writing prompts from the Laurels
by S
If I don't write, the words crumble inside me, falling into cracks between my bones.
My body sleeps, but wide-eyed words slip out to crunch and jostle.
Kaleidoscope, alight. A shift, a sliding synthesis.
Wake up, they sing. Wake up, and write.
by A
To write or not to write…
If I don’t write,
My brain begins to dry
At the edges,
Crinkling crispy,
I fear the pieces will fall away,
taking memory, vocabulary and syntax with the,
If I don’t write,
the words will evaporate
into the ephemera of time—
no record of brilliance or stupidity.
No way to prove I was ever here.
If I don’t write,
the silence will deafen,
my heart beat unheard in my own ears,
my breath caught in spongy lung tissue
with no exhalation.
If I write,
the garden goes untended,
blackberry vines pulled along by their thorns
overtake the roses and win.
If I write,
the dust builds on every surface,
dirt and detritus cake my floors,
and dust bunnies procreate madly.
If I write,
my voice gets clear and clearer
until it pings like finest crystal--
simply ringing out my truth.
by R
If I don’t write
Words become a dam of debris
In the river of my mind
They push
And press images against my vision
Until I am blind
To everything
But their need
They will hold my dreams
Hostage
Leave me gasping
Until I put pen to paper
Let them flow free
And wash myself
Clear again
