I eat bad poetry like a goat, and
eat good poetry like a gourmand.
—Terri Guillemets
I eat bad poetry like a goat, and
eat good poetry like a gourmand.
—Terri Guillemets
Poetic words flow out much better in pleasant climes
Springtime and autumn, more friendly for rhymes
Winter’s good too, the self reflects well in cold times
But blazing summer melts words and numbs minds
—Terri Guillemets
3 a.m. ink is pure and unfiltered,
specks of truth glimmer in candlelight
—Terri Guillemets
Love letter: an inky heartprint.
—Terri Guillemets
A writer’s aura is the color of ink.
—Terri Guillemets
After all these years I’ve finally pegged my writing style — simple, soulful, silly.
On the days I’ve had too much coffee, my writing style turns to overcaffeinated spiritual warrior.
After thirty-four years of writing, I feel that I’m finally about to break free from my juvenilia phase. In a few more years.
—Terri Guillemets
Blazing starshine ink bled from her midnight pen and left glittering trails of angel words.
—Terri Guillemets
The ghost traipsed over the typewriter keys and left wordprints in black ribbon.
—Terri Guillemets
awareness, audacity, awe
authenticity, acumen, angels
coffee, curiosity, cats
dreams, decision, desire, direction, devils
erasers, endurance, experiments
fearlessness, flexibility
grit, guts, goals
honesty, hyperbole, hunger
ink, ingenuity, insanity, insomnia, insecurity
intention, intellect, insight, intuition
purpose, pain, passion, perspective, personality
rawness, reverie, reference
soul, style, spunk, sense, solitude, silence
substance, stubbornness, struggle, sweat
sagacity, skepticism, stationery
typewriter, tea, time
wit, wisdom, what-ifs
wistfulness, wine, window, wings
—Terri Guillemets
Other than actually putting pen to paper, I can’t think of another more important duty of the writer than to stare wistfully out a window.
—Terri Guillemets
i typed my tea
and drank my words
brewed every thought
ink whistled in the kettle
—Terri Guillemets
CONTEMPORARY POETRY —
paying at the tollbooth with pretty words
then swimming naked under the bridge
—Terri Guillemets
Poets swing too high, until the chain kinks and snaps
—Terri Guillemets