Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    Urban Pen: The Poetic Writings of Linda J. Wolff
    Urban Pen: The Poetic Writings of Linda J. Wolff
    Urban Pen: The Poetic Writings of Linda J. Wolff
    Ebook161 pages40 minutes

    Urban Pen: The Poetic Writings of Linda J. Wolff

    By Linda J. Wolff

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    In, Urban Pen Poetry Series, you will find the poetic writings of Linda J. Wolff. She offers an extensive selection of urban acrostic, cinquain, free verse, haiku, tanka, and much more inspiring pieces to enlighten the mind, body, and soul.

    Each piece she brings enlightenment through words, such as the one below:
    "I find I need to seek out solace. Especially, when the day is crazy! Crazy in the sense that there’s no stopping, no breaks. As a single mom, life tends to work itself that way. A constant mirage of places to be, people to see. Not that I don’t mind it. But when I find that place that brings me to a peaceful solace I take it in and absorb it. Do you? Do you take the time to step out of reality?"
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBookBaby
    Release dateAug 3, 2017
    ISBN9781543910162
    Urban Pen: The Poetic Writings of Linda J. Wolff

    Related to Urban Pen

    Related ebooks

    Personal Growth For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Summer: A Love Story

      Apr 20, 2021

      It is a squalid time. The body grows tired of being a body. Sweat. Always. A thin film of it on the skin. Do not say dewy. Do not say glisten. I dream of endless green. Of wet. Of rain hammering the Earth. Of buds sprouting. I want to insist on life

      2 min read

    • Article

      An Interview With Xueyan

      Jun 24, 2023

      An Interview With Xueyan
      5 min read

    • Article

      Home

      Feb 25, 2019

      I once lived in a yellow little house. Each morning, birds convened and sang at my bedroom window. The gate was indigo and inside the garden all kinds of flowers rose to kiss the sunny walls. The yellow nest was filled with cherished books, colourful

      5 min read

    • Article

      The Healing Power

      Dec 12, 2020

      The Healing Power
      6 min read

    • Article

      Poetry Rx: This Is the Year

      Jan 3, 2019

      Poetry Rx: This Is the Year
      7 min read

    • Article

      Two Poems

      Jan 1, 2022

      What I love about the woodsis that you can screamand no one will come. Some dayssound’s the only way pain can fleethe body. I wish I was grownof wildflowers, but I’m all thorn. Years ago,my father came home alone from a bike ride,his face a broken wi

      1 min read

    • Article

      Artefacts

      Nov 4, 2021

      Artefacts
      2 min read

    • Article

      Named After the Animal

      Oct 13, 2020

      Named After the Animal
      18 min read

    • Article

      Five Poems

      Mar 4, 2019

      for William Gifford, 1928–2015 The river. Always the same, never the same.Poughkeepsie. A place north of where I am.To remember you is to remember Poughkeepsie.To remember Poughkeepsie is to remember the river.I am downriver now & you are a memoryI

      3 min read

    • Article

      Poetry Rx: Ordinary Sex

      Apr 11, 2019

      Poetry Rx: Ordinary Sex
      6 min read

    • Article

      Four Poems

      Jan 1, 2022

      followed—in front, as horses—into daisy& silver dancing, knowing the jaw who unkeysin the danced earth to drink me down to haints,& will go again. was willed. distrusted happiness, addicted to it.a god needs of a god. here, i don’t want to reachfor g

      3 min read

    • Article

      Poetry Rx: You All Have Lied

      May 17, 2018

      Poetry Rx: You All Have Lied
      5 min read

    • Article

      Noctuary

      Sep 2, 2021

      Noctuary
      11 min read

    • Article

      Four Poems

      Nov 1, 2020

      Sitting in the cafe of a local bookstore, I listen to the coffeecolored woman lull her child to sleep. A soothing tongue passes through the gap in her teeth and I can’t help but wonder if this were the song my ancestress sang to give me breath. Givin

      2 min read

    • Article

      Five Poems

      May 1, 2023

      Let’s be GodFor a moment, Shall we?That which invites Composition,That which is suspended From a great height,The presence Of approximationHeavy in the meadows, I’m not afraid,And yet My shroud vanishesIn these lines, I am so weptPast weeping, And wh

      1 min read

    • Article

      Learning To Fly

      Oct 5, 2023

      Learning To Fly
      6 min read

    • Article

      A Brand-new ending

      Jan 29, 2022

      A Brand-new ending
      7 min read

    • Article

      The Magic Of POETRY

      Aug 26, 2021

      The Magic Of POETRY
      2 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for Urban Pen

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      Urban Pen - Linda J. Wolff

      Gift

      A Drinking Tanka

      Summer’s dress, warm lace,

      and sapphire skin. Blessed flora.

      Drifting Innocence.

      Fluttering, hovering red.

      And drinking inspiration.

      Reflecting Rain

      I sat watching.

      Little raindrops fall.

      On the porch deck, then the ground.

      Some bigger than others.

      Transfixed. Enchanted.

      It reminds me of tears; I’ve cried.

      Each weighted, differently.

      Joy, sadness, pain, of loss.

      How they seem to disappear.

      And those standing on the railing.

      It’s like seeing reflections of things.

      Reminding me, of me.

      How beaten down, and yet how strong,

      I could be all the while.

      How can I fall, and stand?

      And find MYSELF breathing love,

      just to expel it.

      And despite it all, tenderness remains.

      My soul, my longevity live inside this universe.

      A constant reminder, I can dream,

      or self-destruct mine own self.

      A Song of Dance

      It is passionate that I dance.

      This pattern of a song from feet.

      Weighted with body, and soul

      and what of the body,

      and how much I choose to carry.

      I’ve trudged this countryside,

      cleared many broken limbs from the past.

      Fight off the savage dogs.

      Outran the cold to cuddle near burning fires.

      Peeled me a home to rest.

      And am still breathing.

      Feathered your ashes across mountaintops.

      Now you sleep in my memories.

      I massage my feet upon the pebbles of time.

      Trust in the caress of his love.

      Embracing tiny ebbs brushed from his heart.

      At day’s end, I smile with tired bones.

      But, it is passionate that I dance.

      Trusting the touch of the morning,

      and the kiss of the night with each step.

      I am Not a Poet

      I am not a poet.

      I am a girl.

      In a woman’s body.

      I cry. But not a lot.

      I feel too!

      Silly emotions erode places

      So, I keep my thoughts to myself, until,

      I’m ready to spin words into magic.

      I have found that politeness

      runs on bending roads.

      It’s the edges I get lost in sometimes.

      They wrangle inside.

      And yearn for white canvas.

      Learn to speak, to spill.

      Loudly too. Sometimes they’re quiet.

      Profound as they may be, they’re nothing, unless viewed through looking glasses.

      These twisted, squabblings do things-To people,

      Reaching, calling to their hearts.

      Like sand sifting through a fibrous paper.

      Falling. Falling. To the bottom of somewhere.

      In a trance, bound by each line.

      Then, there it is. That smile, teeth baring expression.

      Enlightenment. Like I said. I am not a poet.

      Just a girl, spreading insight from the inside to the outside.

      Rare Gem

      Some say

      I’m a flower.

      Of soft-spoken petals.

      Gentle in nature, extinct breed.

      Rare gem.

      Fall in To Yesterday

      Sometimes. I fall in to yesterday.

      Imagine where I had been, then.

      Morning coffee. Sun displaced shadows.

      Slighted breeze. Teases tresses.

      Watching drift boat shape clouds.

      Noises. They bring me

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1