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Welcome to Day 28 of the 2012 April Write – the Poets Jubilee Olympiad.  

On Monday 30th April from 10pm GMT/BST  it‘s our Live Skype Finale. Go to the Facebook group for more details and to collect the list of words you’ll need to write your final poem.

On Day 28 of the April Write, everyone will start the first line of their poem using the same words

Watch the video to find out what those words are, to hear my poem and why I chose this topic.






3 responses »

  1. Bayley Marina

    I am as I began a poet, painter
    And all that I was meant to be
    At times the world does not smile at me
    But I continue to be
    As my pictures and words set me free
    Dyslexia is the thing that makes it be
    The glow in my soul makes it accordingly
    But I remain bound by the centre of my creativity
    Hidden as it exposing the inner me
    Defiling my flow I wish I could just let go
    And be all that I was meant to be
    Scared of my own capability
    Scared how you will react and if it was might to be
    Will you understand, if I spelt it right?
    I take a moment to roam for words to replace those in my head
    To simply put on the page
    As the things that defiles my flow
    Is that which me glow
    That which makes me, me
    The me that I was born to be
    My words upon the page would cause some to rage
    Ignoring the message, the pose, the flow
    The story that needed to be told
    Just seeing the obvious etched on the page
    I had stories I wanted to tell, a song to sing healing to bring
    Look past the obvious and read
    A bunch of letters peppered with grammatical errors
    Then you will see the beautiful world that stands before me
    Radical and exposed
    I set my own trap and keep my words under wraps
    Turning to the other part of me
    Here I could live my own reality
    Orange sunsets and purple trees
    I remember the teacher who would read to me
    As we draw, painted and played with the paint on the page
    Here I could set myself free
    Until my own inner fears stated to creep in and disable me
    What I put upon the page was no good enough for anyone to see
    It didn’t achieve the image held within me
    No the picture I wanted to see
    So throw away at the end of each day
    Made the teacher begin to rage
    Rage at the talent I would so easier throw away
    What I did was important to me
    Yet, I trapped myself in a sense of false fears
    Which I held on to for so many years
    What I did became for me alone
    I could not bared to be shared
    Exposing my fear of what I was meant to be
    A poet, a painter, but all the same
    I can not hide or denial that what was meant to be
    So I am as I began a poet, painter ready to be set free
    (c) April 2012 Marina Bayley

  2. Zita Holbourne


    I began as a lonely child
    Mellow and mild
    But with a vivid imagination
    Full of love for creation

    I began believing
    Carried on achieving
    Always longing
    But not always belonging

    I began on a path
    Where I would dance and laugh
    Dream and create
    But impatient to wait

    I began to cry
    Some days wished to die
    Became encompassed in sadness
    Yet strong enough to keep away madness

    I began to stand up for my rights
    Keep succeeding in my sights
    And a journey initially for me
    Became a path trodden by we

    I began to see that there was a way
    That I had much to do and say
    That my words could teach
    And my passion could reach

    I began to feel uplifted
    And understood I was gifted
    In the abilities I had been blessed with
    And through them I wanted to give

    It took a lifetime to comprehend
    But after my journey, in the end
    And all was done
    I knew I had begun

    (c) April 2012 Zita Holbourne
    April Write 2012

  3. “I Began…”.

    I began…
    As something I never imagined I would become
    I travelled a journey I never expected to take when I was 13
    Sitting in the school yard scribbling in my notebook
    Saying I wanna publish a book by the time I am 21
    And having people laugh at me
    Though it took me another decade
    I achieved that schoolyard dream
    With not 1 but 3 books done
    And more on the way
    I birthed a kaleidoscope of words
    That came from deep within me
    From a place of happiness and joy
    As well as sadness and tears

    I began…
    To discover the person
    I was always supposed to be
    When I put pen to paper
    And let my imagination do the talking
    And my fingers do the scrawling
    When I closed my eyes
    I saw visions of worlds
    That I wanted to bring to life with my words
    Adventures and emotions
    I wanted to carry to others
    Like a backpacker reciting tales of his or her travels

    I began…
    As something I never imagined I would become
    I am… a poet.
    ©28th April 2012 Angela Edgar All Rights Reserved


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