Emma Sedgwick

These are the beginning
Of universes
In another version
Of reality
Dark encrusted light
A worm of illumination
In the soil of space.

Thomas Moore

Illustrations
For an unwritten book
Extolling human freedom
Beethoven stands
Amidst the chaos
Jonah is alone
In his living cage
Who will write this book?

Featured on the 'Start Somewhere' blog today, a website about emerging artists and beginning creatives.  It's chock full of good advice from a whole range of artists from writers like myself to chefs cooking food.  An excellent place to help you get started and to help you keep going.

https://startsomewhereweb.wordpress.com/2016/10/06/i-wouldnt-understand-not-writing

Johnny Hogland

Cracked in glass
An eternal yawn
That speaks of pain
Coldly frozen
In the prism of art.

Megan Rose

Nature's emotion
Bleeds
On this canvas
Seeing the essence
Of the form
Being born.

The Story

He began the story without knowing how it was going to end.  That was not his main problem.  No, not at all, in fact his main problem probably would not reach an ending;  he was having trouble with the bridge between the beginning and the end.
  The beginning was easy, syrup in the mouth, all that was needed was a few opening words.  Words to greet the reader into the comfy climaxes of the story, to lower down the reader's mind onto a page.  That was all it took.  A few gentle words to coo the reader in.  After that came the increasingly difficult follow up, to take a reader's hand and to walk them through a journey of delight and amazement.
  This could have been achieved in several different ways.  First, he could introduced a hero, the main character of the story whom the reader could follow the misadventures of the plucky fellow.
  Second, he could have introduced a minor character who ends up as a significant symbol of human goodness.  In some sense the writer has already put into practice the first suggestion as the hero of this story is none other than the writer himself.  His particular adventure is, at the moment, to finish this story as it is delaying his drinking time down at the Calf & Hooves.  So far it isn't much of a story but the writer is optimistic that this story shall turn out well, and not ill, as in his previous attempts.
  The writer would like to clarify that this is not a tortuous procedure for him, but a stimulating one.  It is a task that he very much takes a lot of pride in, just as any craftsman takes pride in his work.  His pleasure comes from carefully selecting words that does service in sentence, both in sound and meaning.  

Deceived Wisdom

We all could be wise

If we prised into the

Knowledge that books hold

Or the experience

We've made mistakes form

Cultivating wisdom

Is an art that's

Never done

Never knowing

What's accomplished

I see dead sparrows

To the way of work

I learn nothing

That is not evident

No piercing mystic

Insights

To form a framework

Of my life

Just the days

Lined up like drinks

To be drunk

With a fondness

For bees

Who stand for

Good metaphor

Storing sweet honey

For better days.