Every sort of idea ignites the page,

astonishes the writer , as much as reader;

A poet is compelled to uncover a poem

framed as something new, something true,

But while we crave original, we listen for the echoes

for #OpenWrite with this random word list: ignite astonish compel frame crave

Start with a greeting - more formal than friendly – and then a few notes to hum alongside with (maybe be in a minor key) – but the start of something longer belongs better in a letter, not converted into music manuscript, or else you'll be resigned to never being finished, for words elude you: this cover letter languishes

for #OpenWrite

Sound, of you becomes me, a symphony in a major key, a string of sixteenth notes strung together, harmony and melody merge together so that one voice is two, me plus you, resting beneath the sign of Fermata

An etheree poem for #OpenWrite https://www.ethicalela.com/etheree-revisited/

Where not so long ago there was nothing but winter, now there is color – forgotten bulbs blossoming into view, in brilliant yellow, purple and orange, a menagerie occupying a sunny corner of the yard

for #OpenWrite https://www.ethicalela.com/color-in-nature/

There is a nook inside a room inside a house - a small corner of mess and light with a guitar on a stand and pens and paper at hand, and the possibility of songs of love and fight – a retreat in the maelstrom of a mixed-up world calling out to me

for #OpenWrite https://www.ethicalela.com/finding-a-safe-harbor/

Some things stay whole; others, break apart; the heart, like paper, folded into intricate pieces, as worded creases displace the center, faded lines, forever: this is how we remember

for #OpenWrite

Zeytun Gospels

https://www.ethicalela.com/witness-celebration-poetry-for-armenian-genocide-remembrance/

What was it about Charlie Bucket that kept us sitting so long on that old couch - an antsy boy on either side of her – listening night after night, as she read aloud the story, the three of us always wondering who might be the last one left to win the factory, as if there were any doubt?

for #OpenWrite

I remember the first night in that apartment, that old brick building, the way the Mill River roared just outside the window, as if life were suddenly moving on

for #OpenWrite https://www.ethicalela.com/i-remember/

The forgotten remains of last year's discards wait at the top of the bin;

an old banana peel grinds from morning coffee a tangle of teabags bread ends moldy green peels of an abandoned orange

I stick a pitchfork in, and push, tilling the past to tend to the present

for #OpenWrite https://www.ethicalela.com/look-closely/

Depending on when you met me – you might have found me:

lost inside the moment of practicing my saxophone, lonely but not alone

writing little poems in a yellow notebook I kept tucked out of sight

teaching myself guitar, searching for a spark, somewhere inside the dark

turning poems into songs, singing words, ever so softly, even I could barely hear

for #OpenWrite https://www.ethicalela.com/depending-on-when-you-met-me/