I perfectly understand what you mean by writing from the heart. Writing becomes a lovable and purposeful occupation only when it is written constructively.
Mere grammar doesn't make a story as it would be possible without grammar if you have a story to tell. Some of the African writers practiced it in the early stages of African English writing. Of course they did it deliberately to bring African rhythm of language to the poem.
The point about writing without control appeals. Indeed some use writing as a weapon to spew poison which should be discouraged,
There several lines on what is good writing and what is not.
It is a common enough mistake. I mean not respecting yourself in order to know what exactly you want and how do you want to be in love. However, it is not easy to understand what makes you respond or fall apart after the first flush.
"my only regret I have is not loving myself enough to see you were getting the best of me."
(the only regret I have is not).
Irony plays a role in the poem.
"Thank you for freeing me of loving someone who is incapable of being loved by me."
Pain comes through almost all the lines.
Imagery is vivid.
Perhaps lines could be shorter and a bit more straight.
Silence is depicted as an enormous problem.
"Stiffening silence
I reflect in silence"
Reflections in silence could be profitable. This process could tell you where and what went wrong.
Being enveloped in silence that seems infinite suits the sages. For the people of the people it would be hard to bear with it.
The poet paints an elaborate and vivid picture of infinite silence.
Silence is shown as a life changer.
"This changes everything"
The poet has little preference for silence. Change is needed. It could be imminent.
Even before the start of something, it seems to be coming to an end.
There is a story here left to our imagination.
Muse has her own ways to play with anxious mortals.
Sometime she lights up the day without warning much to our delight.
Quite often she leaves a trail of disappointment for days on end.
But she is definitely responds when time is ripe and the writer is ready.
The poet's confession is heartening, but not for long I hope. We all have our days when nothing is written. But we stay hopeful.
".No words jumble inside trying to get out, nothing new
In so long, I wonder why and I sit here sad and blue."
Well written rhyming lines strike well.
Muse is already working.
wonderful lines with right word choices and the rhythm is in balance with rhyming.
Imagery brings to my mind the poet waiting while the muse plays hide and seek.
The interesting things that take place as we walk on the road are by the score.
However, it is admirable that the poet makes it a point to observe the carpenter's work with a keen eye. All the small details impress the viewer.
"Using first sandpaper, then rubbing on oil.,
Penetrating the dryness of the wood."
The way his work is followed and recorded, the poet herself seems to be on the road to becoming a promising carpenter herself. There is no denying the absorption and attention paid to the craftsman's job.
It flows well. Imagery is visual and clearly defined.
An evocative love poem on thirty five years of togetherness. No doubt the occasion calls for cebration. Reminiscence of the meeting years ago is still clear and fresh on the poet's mind. Color blue signifies an important milestone in his life.
You are right about returning home from what looks like a colorful party to celebrate at home. It is a rare privilege to stay steadily in love.
The past and present are well harmonized.
Word choices reflect feelings appropriately. Imagery is visual.
It might become old but it is strong in the roots. So strong that it moved not till the end.
The comparison between the oak tree and a mother is apt. A mother is as resilient while facing undesirable changes in life such as separation from her offspring.
poet has a way with words that precisely carried her sentiments and memories.
I apperciate the figures of speech used with effect
Imagery is from nature and life.
It flows well.
Broken hearts are hard to mend.
The poet vents her hatred at the person responsible for the obvious pretentious attachments,
"misconceptions, miscomprehensions
Misdemeanours of love.
The agony of failure in love is shown clearly and with a certain amount impact.
"A suffocating layer that surrounds the heart and chokes it"
Matters of heart are challenging facts of love. Love is not love if it is not steady and loyal.
The indigestible bitter and heart rending, dream- shattering truth that broke her heart into "Into a million little pieces"
It is every true lover's nightmare.
It flows well with images of disappointed love. Quite appealing.
Only a heart charged with faith and devotion to the Almighty alone can write a psalm like this.
For the poet the Lord is omniscient and omnipotent. He is everywhere. There is an affirmation that He is the Creator of the Universe and the power of God is supreme and infinite, and He has the inherent ability sustain all creation.
There is nothing ever to grieve or fear for a believer, for his or her faith leads them on.
Utter surrender to God's will comes through the psalm.
"You take my hand and lift me off the floor,
Then open the gates that lead to Heaven's door."
Innocence lost with childhood and experience in the final phase proves useless.
That's how cruel life can get to be.
However, the note of self dependence comes through clear and loud. An assurance that all is not lost...yet.
"Because if I stay in my lowest state,
I just might miss out on
What trophies my courage will bring..."
Really? what a nice way of working on finding courage.
Life doesn't pause, it moves fast and so one needs to move on taking challenges and such.
Faith in the One behind many seems to provide enough courage and freedom to take risks.
The poet's experience is more or less the same as that of mine.
"I was unable to pen a good poem,
and prose was just as unknown."
But we do learn quiet a bit after joining a cite as inspiring as Writing.Com. Wasn't I green behind ears when I came here?
Those different ways to pen a poem or a story finally made me scribble some of mine own.
"Since landing on
this site, writing dot com,
I now have no need to be shown"
Isn't that just wonderful? The poet oozes confidence that he is the best.
Great! Keep going, thanks to the encouragement and inspiration one finds here.
Mother's absence is never to be filled once she is gone.
The poet's remorse and the keen sense of sorrow come through lines that touch my heart.
"I call out to her
evoking the need of my infant self,
and find that I am alone in the crib,
looking at an empty doorway,
waiting for her to come through."
Visual and meaningfully metaphoric.
She is the only one that understands your mind acts like an alter ego.
Mother and daughter relationship is not always on level.
"despite the
often thorny divergence of mother and daughter,
is no more."
These lines and many other lines are so realistic that we are reminded of our own little and big quarrels with mom.
No wonder, "I teeter with sorrow and
bend to the frantic madness."
I do call out to my mother when distressed or hopelessly sad.
This last line answers the question in the first stanza. Why else do they call it a "gift?"
That's all that matters for this "This thing called living;"
Nice little poem that is effective in making me think of life, reflect on the way I lead it on, taken for granted by majority.
"Homo Sapiens" are so unique.
"advantage of existence." You mean we lord it all? It is much more. Right?
It looks like a casual poem, carries deeper thought.
A delightful little story of Cinderella from a cat's point of view. its observation is keen and its sympathy for his mistress is large.
Rat hunting keeps us engaged and the cat's nature highlighted just enough.
" but there's something so satisfying about the hunt. "
The story is familiar but the point of view makes difference.
Summarized, yet it covered all the important points.
language has no deterrents and the style is unique.
The furry animal departs for the palace with his mistress, feeling cozy, yet making his own plans for a new.
hunt.
"I may have to find new prey to hunt in the palace, but as long as I have Ella, I know I'm home",
I can see the reasons behind your writer's block. You are right about your apprehensions regarding getting into trouble should a certain person happens to read what you write.
"but if certain family members read it, I could be in some deep doo doo."
The easiest way to write about anything you want to write about is to write a story in which you can claim that all the characters are fictional.
Well, if you search for topics to write about, there is always a wide range. I am sure you will stumble upon some topic or the other, which might interest you.
Here is a romantic poem that embraces universal love.
"That love is universal no matter who you be."
Real freedom according to the poet is the ability to love no matter how far you are. I think it is a great idea.
Beginning with an appealing description of the sun breaking through the clouds, the poet takes us to the kind of love he finds, shining brighter and better. Love is all that matters.
"But I only see the brightest light to send my love to you"
Nature imagery dominates the poem.
Word choices and rhythm are apt and hold my attention till the end.
The attachment to the baby that a mother carries in her womb is stated in visual terms.
The bond of love an affection is already forged.
"I haven't met you
but I love you with all my heart."
The poet takes us to her own private world of joy with very first line. It is a very exclusive world, which familiar only to mothers.
Every moment reminds her of the infant inside and makes her to take care of it, in terms of nurturing with love right from there.
"Each passing day" attains a special significance as the promised meeting draws near.
How very true!
An idea comes in a flash and lucky is he or she , who could catch it on the quick and put it in practice, while it is still glowing bright like a star in the dark sky.
"There it was, like a bright flash bang"
Brief and bright this poem is a real to life observation. Like in "Gather Ye rose buds while Ye may" one should seize the idea, enjoy and embrace it while it lasts or before it flees.
There is a kind of sense of disbelief in the second stanza, which clearly is an after effect of getting a precise and brilliant idea. A shock effect no doubt.
It is great to see, Somewhere She and Somewhere He, combined to Somewhere We.
"Our lives transformed with laughter
Together we’re a WE"
The poet's description is happily romantic and the sharing is highlighted so as to make the reader understand the delights of it.
It has the tone of a lyric as though the poet sings along the happy journey together. It looks like a golden period in life's journey where laughter rules.
Rhythm and rhyme are perfectly matched and I admire the visual images brought to the reader's eye with ease.
The title is a metaphor for expression of a certain experience. As per the poem, the poet is on the brink of saying it all on paper, pouring the feelings driven by words. Sad words.
To me some words are impressionable, which one remembers, recalls and reproduces via writing them down.
Words are a power and they carry immense possibilities. They bring images and imagination together to influence a person's life, changing fate as well. "As fates come unsealed."
This short but to the point poem dwells on the fact of needless use of words. It is not words but the true feelings, which are more important.
I think the best part of life is spent on speech rather than concrete action. Everybody is fond of talking instead of listening. A grave mistake. And the sad fact is that most of the time, they are useless words.
"Inconsequential in size alone"
As the poet points out, the faculty of speech is developed later than actions.
"...a child walks before words" How true!
Using speech with discretion is an important part of personality development.
Imagery says it all.
What a nice way of saying that one can impact society in a beneficial way in different ways. Human touch is all that matters.
The example of two friends who followed different professions, nevertheless shared the point of serving humanity.
All roads lead to Rome they say. Similarly, all good intentions lead to the common goal of doing good.
Setting and dialog are helpful in understanding the theme and the way story moved to the end.
Language and style appeal to me. The story ends with a fine finish.
"Their paths may have diverged, but their impact on society, each in their way, has been profound. And isn’t that what matters in the end?"
It is true to life honest poem on quintessential friendship. Here the poet finds a real friendship bond. The poet's friend is a friend in need and so he is a friend indeed.
"...you put a smile back on my face."
There is emotional connection, support and loyalty and shared experiences. I can see that friendship doesn't have to be obligatory. It is natural and made of mutual trust.
It is also complementary.
Blessed is a person with true feelings for a friend. They are ready to help each other when need arises.
The poet's confession feelings for a friend comes through with visual imagery and high emotion.
The first line in each stanza is off the grammar point.
"used to" is used for describing past habits, which no longer exist.
For example, "I used to swim" or "I used to write" etc.
The use of " I used to no" perhaps could be changed to " I am used to no" which means you are accustomed or familiar with being said no.
"I used to no
But now I know"
would perhaps be changed to "I am used not to know /But now I know"
your meaning is clear but the expression is not. Rhyming alone is not enough.
The artist makes an effort to capture the colors of Nature on her easel. She wonders at the amazing color spread before her which leaves her somewhat overwhelmed. Her doubt is justified because there is nothing more original than nature. Originality is not easy to copy.
"How does she capture these stunning hues?"
She seeks to paint the colorful scenario with an apology to nature, which seems apt. It is kind of tribute to the beauty around as well. Her respect shows. Her plea to allow her to paint comes through quite eloquently as well.
"Please let me capture"
Imagining the warm breeze as approval from nature is fantastic.
Rhythm is something I can't miss in this nature poem.
un: 
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