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Alchemy

"Alchemy" Begin: Take a Chance on Love So you’re hurt. You hurt, you hide in your big words clever camouflage You say you're ok in blythe denial of all that’s past that’s ok, write it all away Take all the time you need to make sense of past bad ryhmes don't bury your dreams, turning of a dime "Simple"... beats sophistication every time Bleeds your heart in time with mine Try being glib and sublime with all the other jumping frogs in the mire Hey, you’re ok, your heart's beating time Hey, you’re tomorrow may meet mine (Lovejoy-Burton/Jan 2018)

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Lewis Raynes

Date: 1/31/2018 4:48:00 PM

I can relate so much to this Leanne, when I've been single it's a matter of just let the love come and devour me, such a simple idea, great writing.

Leanne Lovejoy-Burton
Date: 1/31/2018 9:34:00 PM

do you know Lewis....I quite enjoy being single. If it happens it happens, if it don't it don't. Sage advice, your words, thank you.

Tim Smith

Date: 1/31/2018 1:29:00 PM

Tomorrow always brings hope to an aching heart.

Leanne Lovejoy-Burton
Date: 1/31/2018 2:57:00 PM

Tomorrow, Tim, is a saving grace for many an aching heart.

Freddie Robinson Jr.

Date: 1/31/2018 9:59:00 AM

Pure consciousness elevating poetry, Leanne. It sings the soul electric! You sure are one wise poetess ... read the comment of "a great poem ..." Such depth of thought/simplicity of expression you muse-speak. I could wax on poetically, but I'll let your words speak my thoughts ... You say you're ok in blythe denial of all that’s past that’s ok, write it all away. Not this time my talented pen-mate. Your own words will cleanse my poetic malaise away. Love the taste of your ink. Love and hugs.

Freddie Robinson Jr.
Date: 1/31/2018 10:09:00 AM

Oh, btw ... this exquisite poem has a beautiful kiss-off romantic send off. Hey, you’re ok, your heart's beating time Hey, you’re tomorrow may meet mine. Keep giving us eternal Romantics rose-scented hope. A rose by any other name, of course, would be yours, dear Poetess supreme. May Love and more love be bestowed upon you always.

Leanne Lovejoy-Burton
Date: 1/31/2018 10:09:00 AM

X. You got the real magic. How'd you get that gift. Some voodoo you weave with that bold font.

Leanne Lovejoy-Burton

Date: 1/31/2018 7:41:00 AM

This poem is about "beginning" to look for LOVE...and it is very pure in the ideal of looking for LOVE. Romantic Love. Take it as you will. A valentine for all "True" Valentines. x

Leanne Lovejoy-Burton

Date: 1/31/2018 7:40:00 AM

"A great poem is a poem with substance, but a poem with substance is not a wordy poem,it is a poem that alludes to something behind,a poem with depth. A great poet is the one who accepts his limits,the limits of his language, and lets his poem take a life of its own, acquiring meaning he didn't intend for it to. He will know what he had in mind when writing the poem,but will also understand the many other meanings it can take,and will discover its true sense only later. The great poet is the one who knows when to stop clarifying, and the ones who choose difficult words and complicated techniques are the bad poets,those who deceive and whose futility is soon revealed. A poem is or is not,it is not built, it reveals itself,but existed before being written. There is no other poetry than spontaneous poetry,which does not mean there are no artifice and no technique involved. Only that this artifice and this technique must inspire and fashion the poem,not be put to work on it."

Leanne Lovejoy-Burton
Date: 1/31/2018 11:44:00 PM

You're a card, but you know that...guess which one. I can make my own cuppa, all good buster. lol ....now where'd I place that whip? BURGUNDY https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=llTdfnNKIIM

Silent One

Date: 1/31/2018 6:55:00 AM

Many people will hide behind words, some who do are not able to express themselves, some do not want to show others their true feelings... so in essence so much is lost in confusion..

Leanne Lovejoy-Burton
Date: 1/31/2018 7:08:00 AM

Well then Silent One, perhaps the "some", they're not the true poets...perhaps the magic is in the one who "feels" it in his blood, hears and sees it in his heart. Poetry has a tendency to be pathological. X