We talked about the type of poems and forms we liked to write to some success. We are able to express these quite admirably.

Realtors have a saying they use when showing a house. “Location, location, location!” It becomes very important in where you choose to reside. It can also provide the inspiration you need to succeed in your poetry.

Tell us where do you do your best writing? Do you have a dedicated space in which you write? Is there an area outdoors that inspires you to pen your poetry? Can you write anywhere, anytime? Sitting at a desk or reclining in a chair? Living Room or Kitchen?

What conditions do you prefer? A little noise? Dead silence. Early morning or later in the evening? Give a glimpse at your process. Maybe it would inspire someone to try something different. Either way, where you write can influence what you write. Do tell.


  1. The when, where and why I write depends on what I’m trying to accomplish. My poetry needs no special environment. I find that I can pose my poems anywhere. It’s what inspires me at the moment that dictates that process. I can write at my desk, at my work computer, and outdoors if I can. A scribble pad is usually at the ready, and my cell phone doubles as a writing device as long as my thumbs cooperate.

    If I’m writing a script, it’s usually at my desk at home when all is quiet and late at night (read early morning) if I want to get anything accomplished. Unfortunately, my sleep patterns dictate that lately, and to sorry results. I find I can’t stay awake as long anymore.

    My music is written at my piano keyboard. Even if I’m writing lyrics, the sense of the “ebony and ivory” keeps me in music mode.

    As long as I’m writing something, everything else becomes less important.

  2. I write spontaneously, as far as place. Like Walt I may find a place anywhere. At random moments I’ll use a space in my planner (which doubles as a journal), or my phone when I manage to pay attention to a Blooms prompt, or a when a line hits me in the head that deserves a poem attached to it. One of the best “locations” however for me is alone on the road. Thoughts seem to congeal as I’m driving. I’ve been known to pull over and stop to start a poem on my phone, a paper napkin, or whatever. I guess there’s one other place too–my yard. Whether mowing or raking or gardening, poems visit me then, and its probably a brief word or line that emerges from an image, a smell, a tangible sensation.
    I do NOT find it easy to write poetry at my desk, I suppose because of years of working in an office makes me associate it w work. (That may change over time, now that I’m completely and fully retired.)

    • I think I get distracted too easily and that is why I need to be at my desk – with quiet not even soft music in the background. You sound very disciplined that you can use any location.

  3. I am very deliberate about my writing. I prefer to sit at my desk and type on word document. I edit as I go and use the thesaurus a lot because word choice and nuance are important. I write early in the morning mostly. I find it difficult to write on paper because I tend to make such a mess with corrections and editing. I do keep a small notebook in my pocketbook so I can jot down ideas or impressions when I’m not at home. I have gotten up from sleep to work on an inspiration but, honestly, mostly I am too lazy to be that disciplined.
    I love writing from prompts and using quotes and lines of other poetry as a jump start, like with The Golden Shovel and of course reading others’ writing inspires and broadens my perspective.

  4. I like writing at my desk, but so often the ideas come at more inconvenient times. If I’m in a restaurant or a doctor’s waiting area or at the base pharmacy, things will pop into my head that I know I’ll forget before I get home, so out comes the iPhone and into the Notes I start pecking away. Some develop there and others later, but at least I have an idea of the direction I was going to work on later. It’s the ideas that come when I’m driving that end up flying away into oblivion that frustrate me the most. If I’m alone, I’ll tell Siri to make a note. If not, then I try and repeat them several times in my head and hope the gray matter holds the thought for later. That rarely happens in this old brain. (any tips here would be appreciated) Since the 2016 surgery and all the drugs they pumped through me, my thought are more scattered, so I thank God for the prompts at Poetic Bloomings. Walt and Marie are Godsends. And the group that contributes are talented and interesting to read. That reminds me, I should comment more, but retired life is more busy than any other time, don’t you know, especially since I’m doing daily devotions on FB as of late. Hope y’all are reading them. Have a wonderful day.

  5. Now that we no longer have host-home clients, I have an office and a desk, but I still write from my recliner in the living room. An end table on each side of my chair holds the stuff that usually would land on my desk. I travel a lot, though, so I can write about anywhere. When we were in Ireland I wrote in the back seat or our rental car while my niece drove on the left side of the road. Writing helped keep me from thinking that we’d crash any minute.

    • “Writing helped keep me from thinking that we’d crash any minute.” hahahaa. I always tease my husband when he drives (because I fall asleep so easily in the car) that I just want to miss all the drama and wake peacefully in heaven.

  6. Maintaining my sanity, that is what causes and helps me to write. When some significant change causes in me a strong emotion, I purge it by writing it down. I write a letter or poem to whomever or about whatever is causing the issue, good or bad. Then when the feelings blossom, I read the letter or poem again and think, “yeah, that’s, it exactly!” And I feel triumphant for a bit. Repeated readings help me to process the feelings. I have angry poems, sad poems, love poems, empathy poems, etc. etc. I sometimes go back and read old poems and don’t even remember writing them. But Poetry has saved my sanity and I couldn’t be more grateful to have this wonderful outlet.

    At the beginning of the quarantine, I was emoting about it all and a friend of mine said, I think it’s time for you to write some poetry. So I have kept a poetic journal during this whole experience. It helped me a lot. The Cincinnati Museum Center is putting together an exhibit about the time of Corona and asked for journal submissions about the experience, so I submitted mine. Maybe it will help others too! I am hoping that all my poetry helps others the way it helps me, but that is probably just wishful thinking. But I am betting that a lot of you could put your poems of the last 6 months together and find a corona journal too!

  7. Most of my writing occurs in my office where it’s quiet and isolated. I am able to be in front of a window that affords a framed view of the fields and seasons. Back in the day, people became more or less accustomed to my locking myself in an empty classroom and grabbing a few moments/lines.
    From so many years using a keyboard, (preferring to do my own writing, technical, administrative, etc.), I am better able to capture the rapid flow of thoughts and ideas, than in longhand. I also prefer editing on my laptop; cutting, pasting, saving drafts, comparing.
    And yes, I’ve pulled over roadside to capture something in a tiny 3×5 notebook I keep in the dash, or now, in phone-notes. I have also written outside in the woods or on the shore after a hike.
    I try to take advantage of any opportunity: a traffic jam, long train (of which we have multiple & many), driving, waiting on someone or something. No need to get antsy. I take flight and write!

    • “I am better able to capture the rapid flow of thoughts and ideas, than in longhand. I also prefer editing on my laptop; cutting, pasting, saving drafts, comparing.” That’s what I like about it also. When I try to do it on paper it looks like chicken feet trails and I lose track of any clarity.

  8. Writing Into Oblivion

    It strikes, sometimes
    without warning. A word,
    a phrase, a feeling,
    and so, she writes,
    wherever she might be –
    alone, with her feet up
    in a quiet room, in the middle
    of a meal, with others while
    the TV grumbles in the background,
    weeding the garden,
    or just as she is
    falling into the arms of Morpheus.
    She writes lines from deep within,
    And lets the rest of the world fade away.

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