Snowflakes ~ A Poem

Hey Writers! It’s been a long time since I’ve posted on here. Today, I wrote a little wintery poem for you guys, to get into the winter spirit. I hope you enjoy!

I saw snowflakes

spiraling through the air

As I looked up at the sky.

I smiled to myself and thought:

Snowflakes are a lot like people

Each one unique

One of many

Making the world

a better place,

and lighting it up

One snowflake at a time

♦♦♦♦♦

I hope you liked my poem. Does it snow where you live? Tell me in the comments below.

Keep writing!

Advertisements

Submissions for InkCraft Issue #2 (Designs and Entries) OFFICIALLY OPEN!!!!!

Hello there, writers! Sorry, I haven’t been posting on here for who knows how long. I’m really busy with what is called school.

Anyways, time for some exciting news!

Divider

I’d like to announce that the submissions for InkCraft Issue #2 are officially open!

For those of you who are new around here, let me explain.

What is InkCraft?

The Writing Writers Magazine {InkCraft} initiates to feature your work, from stories, to poetry, to writing tips or just any other piece of writing that you will be willing to share. It is a biannual magazine with two issues per year.

How can I enter in my work?

There is a link in this post, which allows you to submit your writing/ cover design.

What can I enter?

Any writing or writing-related articles, tips or other works that can be grouped under our theme is welcome to be entered.

How else can I take part?

If you are unsure whether you want to participate or not, there are also other ways in which you can participate anonymously. We will shortly conduct a magazine design poll in which you can vote for your favourite design and participate without revealing your identity.

When is the deadline?

You have till mid-October to submit your work! The date is not yet decided, but either Mukta or I will notify you on the deadline.

Interested? I hope so!

We really hope for a lot of entries this time, we love featuring your work in our magazine!

The first issue of InkCraft was a great success, seeing it was our first time, but we hope that we can make this issue even more successful by keeping the designs also open!

Please note- Both readers and authors are allowed to submit in your work.

We have some great news this time- We are now also open towards cover designs from you! InkCraft is now an opportunity for writers and designers alike! Find all the details for our newest features in a soon-to-be-published post.

Now for the exciting part, links for submission!

Go ahead and submit your pieces of writing by clicking right HERE or HERE !
Get designing the next cover of InkCraft and submit your designs by clicking right HERE.

So, what are you waiting for? Go ahead and enter!

Thank you for your continuous support! ❤ We hope that this issue will turn out to be even more successful than the first.

Please spread the word by re-blogging this post, or posting about InkCraft on your blog.

Mirra's TWW Signoff

Lifted Wings- A Poem

Hey there!

I’d like to apologize on the behalf of the Writing Writers team for not sharing our writerly goodness with you all! It makes me, and hopefully everyone, delighted that we have over 100 followers now! ❤ Thank you for your continued support to this website. You are our greatest motivators. Today, I’d like to share a short poetry piece. This was inspired by a saying on a piece of clothing of mine- with brave wings she flies.

Lifted Wings

With brave wings she flies,

out of her nest, 

into the air,

her wings lifted with the calmness of the sky.

to be,

set free

The Girl Afraid To Speak Her Mind (a story)

Whew! That was long title.

Hello everyone! I have not posted here for a very long time. I was on vacation for a while, and I have been scrambling to get the rest of my to-do list done.

Today I have a story I wrote for Loren’s CWWC! I obviously won’t post all of my stories for CWWC, but I was feeling specifically proud of this one 😉 Here it is!

***

There once was a time where I was afraid to speak. I hid my thoughts and desires, fearing what people would think of them.

Because I was so afraid to speak my mind, I wrote down my thoughts.

And then I found a way to break out of my shell, and it was called, Summer Camp.

Summer Camp

I was internally screaming just thinking about it. I didn’t want to go. Instead I wanted to stay home, marathon the Lord of the Rings, and read Jane Austin novels.

But my parents said I had to go, and I wasn’t the person to fight back. I never fight back.

I packed five days in advance, so I would have time to make sure I hadn’t missed anything.

I checked over my packing list again. Looking at my suitcase to make sure each item was there. Once I was finally sure, my eyes wondered to a chair in the corner of my room with my journal.

I had written on the front with silver Sharpie. “Everything I Want To Say.”

It was a fitting title.

I yearned to grab it and stuff in the bottom of my suitcase, but my mom didn’t want me to bring it.

“Just this once, Lisa,” my mom said, “I want you to speak your mind at camp. One time. You can’t bring your notebook.”

I wanted to protest, but instead I nodded and went to write down what I had really thought.

I though my mom was being unfair. I didn’t want to speak my mind just one time at camp. I wanted to stay silent and keep to myself, but deep inside I knew I needed to speak up on my opinions.

It doesn’t matter what people think. It doesn’t matter what people think, I repeated the words over and over in my mind, trying to convince myself they were true. I was currently failing.

All too soon it was time to meet up for the camp buses. My heart was beating wildly as I left my bedroom without my journal. I nearly turned around and grabbed it, but instead I forced myself to march out the door.

“Goodbye sweetie!” My mom said giving me a quick hug. I waved to her as I boarded the bus. My hands began to sweat as I sat down.

“Hey,” my friend, Martin, said as he sat down next to me.

“Hi,” came my quick reply.

“You excited?” He asked.

I nodded, but I’m pretty sure my round eyes and sweaty hands gave away the opposite, and he knew I wasn’t.

“I heard we’re gonna make pizzas for dinner tonight,” He said. He knew he wasn’t going to much out of me today.

“Cool,” I replied. I don’t like pizza. It’s too greasy.

We spent the rest of the bus ride in silence. I was reading a book, and he was listening to some strange band on his headphones.

Kids were laughing and joking with each other, but to me the bus felt dark and gloomy. I felt like I was at my own funeral. How was I going to survive this? A whole week without my journal.

I considered it death.

The bus finally came to halt, and kids cam pouring off, talking excitedly about the week’s coming events. I was the last one on it. I considered hiding under one of the seats and letting the bus take me back home. Instead I forced my feet off of it and onto the campgrounds where Marten waited patiently. We walked in in sync to the cabin loop where we separated into our assigned cabins.

Girls were already placing their colorful bedding on the bunks and hanging posters and lights on the walls. Some had even brought beside carpets so they wouldn’t have to step on the cold concrete floor in the morning. I must admit I wasn’t much different with decorating my bed space.

I climbed on the last top bunk and began to spice my space up a bit. I brought portable twinkle lights to tape to the ceiling and little bookshelf that I could hang on the edge of the bed. I figured the girl below me wouldn’t mind if I put my beige bedside mat, so I spread it out on the floor. I stuck the three books I had brought into my shelf and then put down my bedding.

I just brought plain white sheets with a pale blue pillowcase over my pillow, and my fuzzy comforter. Just because I was shy of words didn’t mean I didn’t have good taste.

“Wow!” One brown haired girl told me, “Your space is so pretty!”

My cheeks flushed and my hands grew sweaty again. “Uh, thanks,” I said.

She smiled and went back to her bed, which I noticed was almost all white with a cartoon unicorn on a small pillow and twinkle lights in cotton ball clouds she had hung. And then I noticed her photos of friends and her family strung on the wall. Wow. She had gone all out.

The day went by fairly quickly. We did crafts and learned knots. Then we had hamburgers for dinner, following with free time.

Finally bedtime came, and I had not spoken my mind once.

We showered, got our pajamas on, and brushed our teeth. I climbed on my top bunk, exhausted. Everyone was quiet except for a few whispering, giggling girls, so it wasn’t hard for me to fall into a deep sleep.

My dream was vivid, and I almost felt awake. I was in a garden with lush bushes and colorful flowers. Statues and pavilions were scattered across it, adding a fancy look.

Walking around in wander of its beauty, I came across an old man watering the plants. “Who are you?” I asked, curious.

He simply replied, “I am the gardener.”

I watched him kneel on the dirt and pull out some weeds. He then pulled out scissors and began to trim the longer stems at the base of a bush.

“What are you doing?” I questioned.

“Trimming the bush,” he answered.

“Why?”

“Because if I don’t, the bush will look messy. However, if I trimmed a persons words, it would be the opposite.”

“What do you mean?”

“A person needs to grow, so if I trimmed their words, they would always keep to themselves, unable to reach out.”

The dream faded against my will, and moved on to something about cupcakes sabotaging the Oreo factory.

Fourteen years later…

“Good morning students!” I said, “Today we have a very important lesson. It’s on speaking our mind.”

The students groaned, but I just smiled. I picked up a basket and went to the first desk, “I want phones, tablets, fun books, fidget spinners, and slime all put in this basket. Then I want everyone to sit straight and look at me. There will be a test on this subject, and as there is no books and chapters you can study, I advise you listen.”

The students eyed each other nervously and stuck all their occupations in the basket.

I went back to my desk and placed the basket on it. The pupils made sure their eyes stayed fixated on me as I began to speak. “I am going to first tell you a story.”

Groans and rolling eyeballs filled the room.

I raised my eyebrows, but continued, “Once there was girl who was afraid to speak her mind…”

***

Sorry if there’s any typos and stuff 🙂 I hope you enjoyed! Have a lovely day! ❤️

A Big Day in TWW History: InkCraft is Released to Public!

Hello to everyone stopping by!

Today is a big day in TWW history. The first issue of our magazine, InkCraft, has been made public! Let me rush by everything today, because I’m so excited to show you the outcome and I can only drag things so far. XD

Firstly, a big, fat THANK YOU to everyone! We couldn’t have come this far without you! Every deserving contributor, designer and voter has been acknowledged in the magazine. Continue reading “A Big Day in TWW History: InkCraft is Released to Public!”

Revealing the Winner of the InkCraft Design Poll

When the idea of InkCraft got publicised, I didn’t for a second even imagine this moment. Though I knew it’d come. And now we’ve come so far. I feel like running and tugging my hair and screaming and everything, but then I’d be openly termed an idiot, so… no thanks.

Welcome to the announcement of the winner of the InkCraft Design Poll, everybody! You may remember this post that had all the designs and instructions for voting and things, and I got a very neat response, 32 votes precisely, so thank you to all the voters out there!

I also want to take a moment to reveal the designers, Mahriya@ My Bookish Life, Mirra@ A Young Writer’s Dream, and… ah, me. 🙂 Thanks so much for your contributions, Mahriya and Mirra! Also, one more thank you to Mahriya for coming up with the tagline!

Time to reveal the winning cover.

Deep breaths. Cracking knuckles. Here we go.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

May I present to you… design five!

ink craft six

A big thank you to all the designers and voters once again! The deadline for submitting entries for InkCraft is tomorrow, the tenth of July. If you’d like to send in last-minute entries, do hurry up! The page will be made inaccessible to the public once the deadline is crossed.

Until next time!

Mukta

Like or Love~A Poem

There was a girl,

she liked a flower

So she plucked it

and pinned it in her hair

There was a girl, 

she loved a flower

So she watered it everyday

and watched it grow

 

In a few days,

the flower

in the girl’s hair

withered

and she threw it away

The other flower

was trampled

by a basketball

The girl’s heart broke

seeing what had taken

weeks to grow

die in just a second

 

In twenty years

The girl with the flower

in her hair,

was posing for a picture

with a fake smile

plastered on her face

The other girl

was watering

a flower

with a

beautiful smile,

radiating sunshine

♥♥♥

Hey Writers! It’s Arunima. This poem is inspired by a quote by Buddha: “When you like a flower, you just pluck it. But when you love a flower, you water it daily.” I really loved that quote, so I decided to write something about it. I love poems that tell stories, but I never really wrote poems like that until i saw the quote. I hope you guys liked my poem. Tell me in the comments if I can improve on any aspects of the poem. I’m always open to constructive criticism. Have a nice day!