Express or redefine what is and what can be

And as always, we gather as poets – steeped in our words and bound by the magic we wield. Creativity is the application of the skills we possess fueled by our seeing things just a bit differently than others. If we can get others to see things from our perspective, then we have created something that the masses can embrace. And maybe it will spurn them on to tweaking our processes to another new creation. Things are ever-evolving and we have been witness to many amazing things. Creativity helps us grow in our thoughts and deeds. What is and what can be! Tell us of creativity in your own special way.



When I consider He who made all things,
In awe, I bow before this King of kings –
This One whose creativity’s arrayed,
And in whose image, we have all been made.

Creator, He, and so creators, we.
He gifted us with this ability.
So all creative ways point to our God.
Let us then recognize, give thanks, and laud.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019




She draws what my mind envisions,
from draft through many revisions
translating with sketch pad and pen.
Her artistry draws me to see
her wonder as written by me;
my muse is excited again.
Collaborative creation,
our kinship in celebration.
The poet, the artist; the friends.

46 thoughts on “PROMPT #236 – MOTIVATION: CREATIVITY

  1. Marie, I enjoyed your poem, especially your use of “laud.” A great word, little used these days.


    I have gotten in my own way my whole life.
    I have allowed the past to rule my present.
    I have allowed my fears to restrict perceived choices.
    I have allowed other people to matter more than I do.

    Is it possible that many people do this?
    Do other people marginalize their own feelings?
    Do other people make allowances for the unforgivable?
    Do other people let false morality prevent fulfillment?

    Well, it’s time to move out of the way:
    to open my heart, my arms and my mouth
    and let the things that matter come freely in and out.
    Happiness can only reside where it has permission.

    They say you only live once
    but actually it is dying that comes only once.
    I can live every single day
    or not at all..

  3. Creativity

    C old and naked we arrive in this world
    R eleased into a life without instructions
    E ach of us destined for different paths
    A ll marching blindly through the darkness
    T rying to make some light of our perils
    I nnocently we try and fail and try again
    V icariously we learn right from wrong
    I n the end we hopefully discover our way
    T ime will tell if what we find is right
    Y ield to the still small voice inside

    © 2019 Earl Parsons

  4. What I See

    A cloud to others
    is a snorting
    dragon to me. Are
    the animals of sky
    at odds?

    A butterscotch sun
    beams down on sea,
    varying hues in
    rippling water.

    Rendering of a ship
    in which I see Captain
    and crew, a sailor
    smoking a cigarette
    on deck. What type
    of ship is this?
    Are they carrying
    cargo, prisoners,
    or maintaining peace–
    watchdog of the seas.

    Dragon rules the sky
    with a butterscotch sun.
    Sailors mop sweat
    from their faces.

  5. This is Darlene Franklin’s poem.

    R e d o n d i l l a

    Old newspaper article praised
    Schools teaching immigrants our ways
    And I think, there’s a book idea there
    The conflict’s spelled out fair and square

    A single line runs through my mind
    And then a bit of Melody
    I scribble down the notes in blue
    And finish writing lines that rhyme

    I can’t help it, I’m creative
    I’m made in my father’s image
    I take to it like a native
    In God’s plan, I am a smidgen

  6. Creativity

    I don’t make something from nothing like God did.
    I take a little bit of this from over here
    and a little bit from that from over there:
    Memories, bits of knowledge, photos, research.
    Add a little twist and there you go.
    I approach a blank piece of paper with faith,
    like I do with a jigsaw puzzle,
    trusting that bit by bit it will come together
    and make something worthwhile.

  7. Lovingly written Marie, your words full of honor and awe for our God.

    Walt, this portrait of anothers talent, and recognizing their works’ connection to your own, is the substance of this garden’s beauty, I think.

  8. Word Makers

    The Spirit hovered over
    vast cold waters,
    thought, intent, and purpose.
    in His heart,
    His mind.

    Then words He spoke,
    arousing sea and dirt and air,
    as creatures formed
    out of His voice.

    And when He brought them to us,
    a menagerie parade,
    we named them,
    each a word,
    what words that we would call them
    as we chose.

    He delighted, I am sure,
    in our uttered awestruck notions
    as each animal passed by.
    He delighted, I am sure,
    in every syllable intoned,
    each consonant and vowel,
    each guttural inflection,
    every whispered name.

    Hearing His creation
    create again on His,
    he watched our hearts and mind
    anoint the things He made
    with words anew.

    No wonder we are writers, poets,
    bards, orators,
    made in His bright image,
    but also,
    I think,
    created in the echoes
    of His voice.

    © Damon Dean, 2019

    • “Created in the echoes of His voice.” Be still my heart … which is pounding right now, with joy and connection to your magnificent/lovely/truthful vision. WOW.

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