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Star BG Oct 2019
I carve words into bark of vellum
as if tree trunk
standing pristine and tall.

My pen-like tool moves
in moment below blue skies
lightly peppered with orange clouds.

My breath merges with nature
while birds echo in serenades
that color mind with spiraling visions.

I carve as a master
with its title passed on
from generations inside starlit cosmos.

Come, partake in my flourishing garden of verse.
And may you be inspired
to take a bouquet into the heart.
Inspired by Eloise. Thank you for your inspiring poem.
Star BG Sep 2017
My poetic words hitchhike
into an open mind.
It moves near and far.
across countryside
planting itself so others birth a smile.

My words become a person
with thumb of ink
tickling far of places
as it travels.

My hitchhiker words
move with intention
to leave blessing  
for a short time before joining
with others in a parade of life.
inspired by Jamadhi Verse
Star BG Nov 2017
I am a walking tree of divinity
and poetry is my life.
Experience after experience
fills the many pages of life.

Some people see my beauty
so we feel oneness,
while others walk right by.

Fall leaves hold
happy and sad experiences
each to be woven in a tapestry.

Winter a time to reflect
and take things in stride
weather storms or blue skies.

Spring a time to blossom
as chapters expand.

And Summer time
to bond with tree
sisters and brothers.

I am a walking tree of divinity
scribing all seasons
for a readers eyes.
Inspired by snowflake thank you
Star BG Feb 2018
My words ferment in mind.
Churning and Expanding.
I pour them out in verse
as bubbles transmute to punctuation,
as I celebrate life.

Wine...bottled poetry
to savor.

Come get drunk on my phases
Afterwards, you can drive all you like.
Star BG Dec 2017
Born with pen in one hand
and idea in other,
I cried,
not tears but echoes of punctuation.
I screamed,
for paper yearning to share visions
in-between sleep.
I smiled,
seeing colorful spirits
urging me to be patient.

But when I laughed,
the world gathered
and conversations began
acting like building blocks for poetic words.

At young age
I molded phases in mind
like tasty lollipops,
as stick-like pen was my friend
and ideas clung to mobile.

By age four fate was sealed
while pen expanded,
and ideas sprouted like flowers of poetry.

Poems,
I share as a prodigy
creating smiles to celebrate life in verse.
Inspired by Amanda Shelton - a gift. Thanks
This poem is not about me I only started writing at 64
Star BG Feb 2018
A Poet ******
I am gathering words
into my vat of mind.

Fingers use diving board of keyboard
to swim, as my addiction
to write increases
below moon
and sun lit sky.

I am a poet ****** getting my fix
from a deep breath where words surface
to satisfy my cravings.

Gentle, silly, emotional
and fire y words  
mount moving through vessels of heart
to fingers.

A poet ****** I am.
expanding with visions in a journey
where needs to write outweigh
needs to eat, or work.

There is no cure
for my addiction.
Only a desire to have my habit soothed
soothed by a magazine
willing to print my work
or readers willing to past the time.
Inspired by Nat Lipstadt  THANKS
Star BG Jun 2019
A troubadour I be.
Playing my musical pen
for those who gather.

A balladeer be I.
One who parades cross page
to sing to readers ears.

A troubadour am I.
The minstrel of written word
who performs my hearts music.

A jongleur be I
gathering events from journey  
to birth a poem
I am a self taught musician /poet
playing from life’s experiences.
Star BG Oct 2017
I'm a poet of my soul,
meandering in earths realm.
Sometimes,
gliding through
tsunami waves of love.
Other times,
swimming in rough tides
that pull at heart.

I am a poet of the heart.
Playing it's sweet song.
Sometimes,
singing in tune
with divine birds.
Other times,
challenged with low notes
hard to reach.

I'm a poet
philosopher of heart.
Singing a tune
to merge with soul.
Singing,
to transcribe the moment
and carry all to a place of peace.
Inspired. By Saumya
Star BG Dec 2018
Into canvas landscape
to mirror journey I shall paint.
With word pigments as poet
sharing a mirror of self.

Sometimes colors are bright,
giving air of peacefulness for eyes.

Other times dark like night,
exposing just a glimmer of hope
from stars.

Tonight, I paint as hand heavy
lifts pen-like brush.

Grey’s for sadness
inside breath.
Red for pain of heart
from loss.
Brown for mud stuck to feet
feeling trapped.
Black for despair
that shadows me.
Tiny yellow specks for tinge of hope.

I paint to express
from deep carven forged from past.

Perhaps tomorrow my colorant will change.
More night time healing
Star BG Feb 2018
I shall sit in the airplane of a poets words.
Eyes a-fixed to keep nose up and balanced.

I sit flying with visions that cloud up eyes,
or sometimes show bright sun.

I am a passenger with seat belt snug
poet pilot guides so I ride turbulence in life.

Life that holds endless possibilities in an open sky.
Star BG Feb 2018
a means to immortalized
a soul already eternal  
and precious.

Poetry an artists tool
to carve I love you's
into many a phase.

Poetry a gift
I shall give
When I have a significant other.
Inspired by Alexa thanks
Star BG Nov 2018
Poetry acts as therapy
prescribed by
my counselor within heart.

Verse like blanket of security
allows self to vent and
not feel homeless.

Sometimes tears hide behind words
needing to be released.
Other times phases give insights
on paper to heal
and return to self love.

Poetry is therapy
where office is open anytime.
Where each letter like a medicine
gets dissolved on page.

Perhaps YOU are my counselor
ready to read between lines
to connect with kind word.
A therapist that responds with like or sun.
The reader who whispers a love
carried in either of an internet site.
Inspired by Marcella Kay
Star BG Jan 2018
Poetry is life
Poetry is love
and sometimes sadness
or anger
all wrapped in a word.

Poetry is fuel to expand thoughts
of writers hand,
and a breeze to move through eyes.

Poetry is a gift
that comes from landscape of heart.
A gift from writer to page
from page to reader.

Poetry a six letter word.
a package to be unwrapped
on holiday.

Poetry, Don’t leave home without it.
Inspired by Divine Dao. A gift of a poet. Thanks
Star BG Mar 2018
Poetry a navigational tool
to get through ups and downs of life.
The sunset that shine to fire up the sky.
The loss love that stabs the heart
The sounds of a laughing child.
The fear that comes when panic attacks strike.

Poetry a navigational tool-like microphone
to awaken minds who are asleep.
The children who stand in dark abused.
The light-workers who are here to aid.
The hungry, poor and war torn countries
needing exposure.
The love present inside Mother Earths song.

Poetry the gift that sings out
to all who gather.
Inspired by NuBlacSoul Thanks
Star BG Nov 2017
Poetry is an occupation
one trained for in the heart.
Train by evolution of one's perspective.
with seasonings of love.
It grows from inside out
where words germinate
in mind and then is processed.
Breath expands
as feelings take hold
in side daily experiences
that add to a scribes platform.

Bug of creative forces
grabs hard
as occupation calls from soul
to writer.
One who must tap into it's flow
It's part of the job requirements.
Thus the poet sage is born.
Born to anoint the page.
for eyes to gether
and hearts to contemplate.
Inspired by post by Lawrence hall  of           -John Steinbeck, The Moon is
I saw words poetry is an Occupation
Star BG Jun 2019
As I stand at alter
to marry poetry with heart,
I see the guests arrive.

They are letters that dance
upon dance floor of mind.
They are the ones
that bare presents of phases
to scribe another poem,
as marriage celebration continues.

Do you Star BG take
the creative spark called love
for better and worse?
I do
And do you Master Spark Vortex
promise to continue
to shower her with light?
I do.

I now pronounce you
Mr. and Mrs S Vortex

May you create baby poems
to be shared with visitors eyes
who watch them grow.

May you be bounded
inside passions
where the pen will speak
inside all experiences.

And may you live eternal
with fire of love
to anoint the Universe
and celebrate life.
Just playing with the thought of getting married to my poetic self.
Star BG May 2017
When I began to write
peace was mine.
I danced in steps
to the music of poetry in mind.
I wrote
sometimes in day,
or middle of night.

Eventually, my heart expanded
writing often until all my heartbeats
were of poetry.  
Every breath housed another poem.
Everything inspired me.

In time, I evolved meditating
connecting to source
and NOW...
Every cell in my body vibrates poetry.

Hooray, for me. I am blessed
with a golden pen, a waterfall of poems,
and loving soul.

StarBG © 2017
Star BG Jan 2018
A woman is like a beautiful poem.
Letters becoming her makeup.
Charm her verse.
She’s divine with gentle sounds
guided by a writers heart.
A vision that echoes love,
in a stature of poetic rhyme.
Inspired by Kataleya Thanks
Star BG Apr 2019
Poetry is life reincarnated.
Experiences that migrate to  page
for exposure to an eye.
The lens that acts like camera
to catch a vision
of poet
so they may ponder.

**
Poetry is the music of words
that plays loud or soft
depending on the orchestration
of its band leader poet.
who waves their baton pen gracefully.

***
Poetry is born from everyones lifetime
but not everyone scribes them.
They just carry the saga's in hearts
to explore later when leaving this realm.
Just playing in thoughts
Star BG Feb 2018
Poetry is the dance with words infused in a poets breath. A song that vibrates behind eyes to expand a vision.  Poetry the thing gifted to those who gather. A chain of verse with value of gold. Poetry the voice that is imprinted from heart that speaks even after one is gone.
Inspired by Wendystarry eyes thanks
Star BG May 2017
Poetry, is the music that tickles my ears inside a birds tune.
The wind that hugs a creative poets mind.
Poetry, is the sun at dawn, that graces sky to usher in morning thoughts.
A gift that becomes bridge as scribe is builder and reader can stroll.
Poetry, is the gift that illuminates ones passion,
to bring all closer inside oneness.
Inspired by a grand writer Jimmydon
Star BG Sep 2017
Poetry is in everything.
Shadows and sunshine.
Hardships and trymths.
The first babies steps and a mothers sorrow in loosing a child.

Poetry is in everything.
Nature singing in forest walls or a double rainbow across grand sky.
Sadness when lover leaves and someone is broken hearted.
A dream orchestrated from a creative mind.

Poetry isn't everything.
A fairytale put into motion through readers eyes or a star-studded sky causing one to make a wish.
The seasons weather making its claim on the landscape.

Yes Poetry is in everything
Real and fiction
Love and lust
And its a marriage made in heaven between writer and heart.
Inspired by Carmen Sutherland
Star BG May 2019
High in the sky of my mind
I write.
Flying inside a poetic song.

I sing from heart
as birds gracefully
paint the sky with voice.

I will stand
facing night sky
releasing a wish
on a shooting star.

A wish that one of my poems
will be the poem of the day
that goes out
to fill all inboxes
on the road
of a Hello Poetry site.

And thus said...
I echo
gratitude and AMEN.
Just a thought
Star BG May 2019
My stalk like pen
moves in wind
like corn on a summers eve.
Words call tickling air in breath
as pen takes a stance.
Corn husks feed the hunger
that grows to plant this moment.
A moment where poetry is within

And ink will mount stallion white page
as if pen needs to catch the words.
Words to be corralled inside a trotting verse.

Perhaps later I will sit by fire
inside my tire
and hear foal poem neigh--
I say with hooray.
Inspired by Christie Moses one word of stalk
Thank you. I can ride my pen horse across hilltops of verse but don't put me on a horse. LOL

I could have stopped after first paragraph but my mind kept going with dancing fingers so I kept writing.
Star BG Dec 2018
In world of poetry inspiration flows everywhere.

On butterfly wings, and birds that sing.  
Of gentle breeze, and a tickle tease.
Between zebras stripes, and inside Skypes.

On a drifting cloud, and person so proud.
In a heart that sings, and engagement ring.
Between the quiet breath, and in dream at rest.

On a plane that flies, and deep ones eyes.
In a dream that plays, and a foggy haze.
Between lines of verse and a persons hearse.

On a nice red cloak, and a silly joke.
In ballet dance, and true romance.
Between a sparkling star, and a door ajar.

On a summers night, and the stars so bright.
In a smile with love, and a flying dove.
Between line of text and some heavy ***.

In world of poetry inspiration flows everywhere
so do take care and now see clear, a poem is near.
I thought about inspiration
Star BG Jan 2019
Poet opens eyes
to scribe many a senryu
Reader is so blessed

Scribe opens hearts
to write many a haiku
Reader is yes blessed.

Reader readies self
to read on and get insight
They as well are blessed.
Just playing in playground of words
Star BG Feb 2019
And as I sit writing
I open my box of filament infused phases.
I thread my needle like pen
and scribe in delicate script
making sure each stitch is
divinely placed.

I am a seamstress poet, my wares being poems
carefully sewn onto colorful twine.
Care to wear them behind eyes. They fit snug
and are oh so delicate and soft.
inspired by HG  Thanks
Star BG Sep 2017
Delicious for eyes.
scribed inside mind
flows so divine
captivating rhyme
expands cells in time
Better than coffee I find.
Inspired by v V v Thanks for writing
Star BG Apr 2019
My consciousness drifts
as I move on soil
tweaked by a poets walk.

Their steps imprinted
in Mothers soil
as seeds to grow within.

Whitman tickles me
so I may create visions grand.

Thoreau echoes,
as I put pen to paper
and echo while sitting at pond.

Poe speaks in caverns of mind
giving perspective of the dark bird
that whispers “Nevermore.”

And Dickinson whistles in wind
so self anchors
to born a masterpiece.

Yes I am blessed,
to walk in a writers shoes.
To scribe from inside heart
where flowers grow,
and poets of past live.
Inspired by Crazy Diamond Kristy.
without her my words would be empty echoes
destined to line a garbage-can wall.
Thank you so so much
Star BG Jan 2019
I eat poetic words for breakfast
and spit out poetry.
I let my coffee jump start my day.
with muffin dipped in
waves of verse.

After eating lunch,
consisting of a jargon filled sandwich.
I start again writing from a full stomach,
as dust revels itself on banks of sky.
What happens when writing on an empty stomach. LOL
Star BG Jan 2018
I bless the page with my written words. Words inside a playground of phases
on street of poets mind.
.
Do climb ladder to slide with visions.
Swing with consepts that take life of its own to push one
back and forth on lines with eyes.

Spin upon swirling verses
that set mood careful not to scrape knee when words are dark.

Climb monkey bars like mother chimpanzee poet who loves
swinging on vines from heart.

Play in my playground
all friends are welcome.
Inspireed by chat with Brianna love
Star BG Apr 2019
In the scrapbook of a poets mind
there lies a photo.

A Landscape of words
that shines like sun
calling one to scribe.

Sometimes sunny scrapbook
burns
releasing painful memories
needing to be written
for peace.

Other times it’s
bright
beaming down a rainbow
of beauty.
flying like a butterfly
needing to be free.

Scrapbook contains
endless pages
to glance at
when posted or printed
in book form.

It's a gift
handed over by poet to reader.
Come gander at a poem.

For...A poem a day keeps the doctor away.
Inspired by Heinzlets statement "Every poem has a photo of its own."
Thank you
Star BG Feb 2018
Two happy poets makes for a grand feast of words.
Poetry delicacies to savor
at a journal-like table where fork is pen.
inspired by a chat with
John McFadyen
Thanks
Star BG Sep 2017
With breath taken,
the poet within is released.
She follows the melodies of heart.
Words tumble out with an exhale.
Verse builds with a focused gaze.
And soon, I the poet can rest,
knowing her words are anchored
in waves of text
upon an imprinted page.
Inspired by Emily B
Star BG Nov 2017
A poet writer yes I am,
as I write I'll eat some ham.
Eat and fill my stomach deep,
then to write I take a seat.

In between the ham are words.
Yes, I know it sounds absurd.
But it works words they do land.
Etched on paper oh so grand.

Words don't stop they come out well
Once they're out oh I feel swell.
Soon a poem completes so fine,
as I end my precious rhyme.
To All my Poet friends. :) If you are kosher change it to jam. LOL
Star BG Aug 2017
Poison ivy -  Mother Natures way of saying tread lightly, and don’t dishonor her garden.


Every summer Poison Ivy seems to find me.
Its in the air,
on others skin as they scratch,
and in Mother Earths playground.

Ivy, is on clothes if improperly washed,
mountainsides, and backyards.

Poison Ivy carries summers name,
and helps heal deep cellular toxins.

It's not very friendly spreading like wild fires,
BUT Mother Nature is,
if you honor her boundaries.

StarBG © 2017
just saw the word poison and wrote this.
Star BG Jul 2017
Inside a pool of words I swim,
connecting to thoughts that echo.
They flow inside wavelets
that dance gracefully.
They vibrate within heart
that beats in divine song.

Within vat of phases,
thoughts sometimes heavy,
spiral with memories like tornado.
Thoughts sometimes light,
become powerful as self awakes with wisdom.

Inside pool of creative jargon I drift,
experiencing force that guides pen to paper.
It vibrates to birth a poem into ones eyes.
It makes moment slow for
a beacon of light to bring peace.

Peace as a lighthouse of love shines
to lead an artists creative soul.



StarBG © 2017
Star BG May 2017
I play in a pool of words,
drifting with waves that keep me buoyant.
Ripples of wind open heart moving body poised to write,

Backstroke, becomes a phase worthy to scribe.
Butterfly, lets me move across untamed page.
Crawl, lets me ponder and write creatively and clearly.

With breath, I choose to glide through waves of thoughts.

Breast stroke, makes me in touch with heart rhythms.
Side stroke, lets me cut through painful memories.
Free style, allows me to advent a poem uniquely and elegantly to fill page.

With breath, I float gracefully through waves of thoughts.

Trudgen, stoke thrusts self across fields of bubble infused jargon.

Dog Paddle, brings life to my pen strokes as I flutter with dancing words.

Diving, I do deep into emotions to orchestrate a poem like that of a peal exquisite.

With breath, all waves carry my poetic human vessel to my island.
The place where pen and paper are at hand.
Star BG Feb 2018
I shall drift through a portal of stars.
Moving gracefully with purpose.
I will move with etheric wings
heading for a new world.
Progressing at speed of light
to reach a place
to expand consciousness.

A sacred realm called Earth
where I can grow and lean,
experience and heal,
conquer and triumph,
before, I turn back
and head home in the stars.
Inspired by NeverEnding's page. Thanks
He has a picture on it.
YOU ALL MUST SEE IT TO GET FULL EFFECT IF YOU READ MY POEM. It will help the poem make sense.
Star BG Jan 2019
And I shall mix my own potion,
fighting the dark to integrate light.
It bubbles and tickles throat.
Warm and cools at same time
taunting senses.
It travels to heart
burning away old emotions
lodged that inhibit.

A grand concoction valuable but free.
Try it for a better tomorrow.


POTION:
  One part love
One part forgiveness
One part trust mixed with dreams
and one part inner light.
Take as often as needed,
below full moon for best results.
inspired by chat with gabriella garcia  Thanks
Star BG Apr 2017
Potion of love I make today,
from deep inside my heart.
It does radiate outwards,
to move within a spark.

It is da-lish so take a taste,
and you will be in awe.
Drink it up and feel blessings,
then you’ll fly high to soar.

You will be anointed strong,
with light and trust to be.
Grounded inside special gifts,
to wander oh so free.

Maybe inside gifts you’ll write.
Maybe you will speak.
People will come gather near,
to bow and kiss your feet.

Possibly you’ll learn yourself.
and find out who you are.
You have special gifts within,
so drink cause your a star.

StarBG © 2017
Star BG Jan 2018
Power to the writer the one who scribes from heart.
To the one who chooses to use a baronet-like pen to fight
and climb the mountainside of life to share a vision.

Power to the scribe who sings like mockingbirds
To the one who swims gracefully in footsteps of poetic verse
and is willing to release the dark to replace it with light.

Power to the poet who taps into their creative minds
To you ______ who moves as a gift inside path as your guides, higher selves, angels and The Divine applaud.
DO FILL IN YOUR OWN NAME FELLOW WRITERS.

Inspired by chat with Francie Lynch Thanks
Star BG Sep 2017
Dieing without a voice,
does plagues the soul.
But alas the scribe,
a voice he surely has,
speaks from heart gallantly.

Powerful words intrigue all
who gather as
sadness penned explodes
with its energy to transform.

They strike page
with hammer strong.
Echoing feelings often hid
behind walls of mind.

Phases etch into one
burning readers eyes.
They open wounds
hidden in shadows.

Purpose...to release lower vibrations
cleansing hurt festering within
for freedom of soul
for both scribe and reader.
Star BG Nov 2018
Inside my breath and imagination
I sprouted fairy wings to fly like bird.
Body tingled in wind.
Senses became heightened.

Melodies grounded
as voice pitched to heartbeats
echoed.

Freedom was mine
in a moment of spiraling
leaps and bounds.

Love’s energies integrated
and life’s reality changed
in a magical moment.
Just playing with words.
Star BG Mar 2019
Prattle not with ego’s limiting jargon,
for the heart does beg for attention.

Prattle not the dark mind of thoughts
for the heart is full of wisdom.

Prattle not in words useless
better yet move in self love
for it’s far more rewarding.

Prattle not in sea of sad songs,
rather swim in ocean of non judgment
as it’s the anchor for peace.
Inspired by Frank Davis Jr. A grand writer. Check out his work. He taught me a new word prattle.
Star BG Apr 2019
Oh sprit of mine,
do pulsate inside me
with your divine wisdom.

Come tweak my thoughts
so I hear thee,
and move
in grand dance.
with you
as my partner

Oh Spirit divine,
light my way
as candle in heart
expands and
angelic guides
gather
to serenade inside winds whisper.

Come anoint me in moment
with knowledge
of my journey
so I may feel harmony
inside abundance of breath.

Oh spirit of mine
team up with me strongly
as I roam in lifetime
worth celebrating.
As I feel my inner power
and stand tall to
tweak the world.

Fine-tune the globe
and all inhabitants
with loves light
so vibrations rise,
and all remember
from where we came.
First poem of the day Inspired by a grand poet named Mary Gay Kerns.
Thank you
Star BG Sep 2018
May you wrap your words of heart
in blanket of poem
and continue to write expanding the world.

May you remember who you are
and take barton-like pen
to scribe your message inside grace.

May you find peace in your journey,
knowing you are a gift,
deserving to have your dreams.

May you expand in these changing times
to align with Spirits guidance
so you feel harmony.

May you open your hearts,
and take action to make a difference,
inside love and the written word.
I sent a response to a fellow writer with first stanza and then it expanded into a prayer for all. Thanks Patty m
Star BG Feb 2021
Prescription for soul
to radiate inner peace
is to share loves light

Prescription for soul
to experience grand love
is to look into heart

to in breathe deeply
to go where no soul has gone
celebration time
First poem of day
Star BG Oct 2017
When in the PRESENT moment
we HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY
to realize that
We are a present
to self, and rest of the world.
THAT is why they call it a present.



Open to the PRESENT
and all its possibilities
like it is your birthday
everyday
because you are a
GIFT


THE PRESENT of today
is to open it
and forget about
THE PAST.
just playing with the word present as something we open up to and can celebrate to focus on the good.
Star BG Dec 2018
Oak trees crown of leaves does sit,
reminding all of its sacred stature.

It stands giving shade in summer,
and beauty with leaves of color in Fall.

It’s rooted in Winter season of sleep
with snowflakes that sparkle in splendor.

And its eminence tall sends out fragrances
against showers that bring Spring flowers.

Yes, Oak tree you are a prince I bow to,
as you have my allegiance forevermore.
Inspired by Paul Hansford Thanks
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