selfhood rebirth poem image

Selfhood Rebirth Poem

In, “Selfhood Rebirth Poem,” yesterday was a day for Bianca, in teaching history, in teaching selfhood and having pride in our past. To the guidance in the growing up and being able to fend for oneself.

In, “Selfhood Rebirth Poem,” I want every day to give her something that will help her be a young lady of substance. One who knows how to keep her house, to cook, to bake, to wash her clothes. Beyond that too, a sense of pride in herself that grows from confidence. To explore, but to be able to speak wisely, in this, yes, it takes time. But, I want her to be able to walk freely and know all these things that are essential to life.


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Selfhood Rebirth Poem

Bianca stirred clumps of cookie dough in
a silver bowl until they turned crystalline and burdensome under
kitchen lights, bouncing off stainless like the
shimmering stars of night, the bursting flares of it
shattered in blackness, a New Year’s celebration
of sweetening candy, baked ham, legends of red poinsettias
unveiled under a new indigo moon.

Bianca rolled small spheres in the warm place between
palms and fingertips and I watch her and remember
myself, at the soft age of ten, was taller.
Her frame petite, and cheeks of a dainty pink rose,
hair cropped at the shoulders, had a life of its own,
every curl bouncing with laughter and delight. Perhaps this
means the world will be hers to yield, strong-willed, yet foolish.

Yet to surrender. But still, Bianca is a beautiful soul,
lovely really meaning an innocent, untainted pink rose,
someone who doesn’t fear to reach for the scorching sun.
Days apart from yesterday, she was just a baby,
unable to speak words, still helpless to give an
audible song. Today is colorful. She creates for me
circular crumbling, sweeten snickerdoodles of happiness

Where girls her age engulfed in mind-boggling video games,
the colors lost New Years bleed out by hours,
Their bodies, a mold in couches. But today, I smile wide
with adoration at the clumps of granules scattered
across countertops and floor, I tell her how
Baking was the only testament to being a woman’s foundation. But
now, these cookies are our history rebirthed, and in it,

We are resurrected, one by one; foolish daughters, older
mothers, and hope for another New Year.

©2018 Linda J. Wolff (Google), and “Selfhood Rebirth Poem.”




LINDA J. WOLFF (WOLFF POETRY) lives in Washington. She’s currently the editor of online journal Wolff Poetry and resource site for beginning writers. Her work published in an eBook Urban Pen; Poetic Writings of Linda J. Wolff on Amazon, Barn & Noble, and Goodreads. She’s received “Top 25 Poetry Blog of the Net,” and her poetry journal was used as a “Scientific Experiment” by the data team & company Automattic that owns (WordPress).


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      4. Daily Prompt: Encrusted
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Canvas of Life Poem Image

Canvas of Life Poem

On February 1st, 2008, Canvas of Life Poem, my inexperienced niece leaves her baby girl to be raised by me, with an empty house, and an open heart I give Bianca a home.

Now ten years later I’m here to write this into a poem. One can affect the future of children, too many are left to fend for themselves, as a foster mom, and mother, nurturing a child from an infant to a young girl is challenging and rewarding at the same time. But, I wouldn’t trade it for a second. Read Canvas of Life Poem below


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Canvas of Life Poem

Life set you reaching as a paintbrush.
The physician turned your breath inside out.
Paint its place upon a canvas.

Our colors stream, brilliantly showing your appearance.
New paint. In a stuffy art museum, your rawness
articulate love. We stare square vividly as murals.

I’m no more your auntie
Then a brush that blends a wind to slow,
through rain clouds.

Every morning your butterfly kisses
fluttering among round yellow daisies. I watch to see:
A stirring branch moves in my eye.

One whimper and I rise from bed, tousled-hair and green
in my fuzzy bathrobe.
Your arms flail openly winged as a baby bird. The window rectangular

Brightens and engulfs black night. And now you try
Your songbird song;
The lyrics grow like a flowering rosebud.

©2018 Linda J. Wolff (Google), and “Canvas of Life Poem.”




LINDA J. WOLFF (WOLFF POETRY) lives in Washington. She’s currently the editor of online journal Wolff Poetry and resource site for beginning writers. Her work published in an eBook Urban Pen; Poetic Writings of Linda J. Wolff on Amazon, Barn & Noble, and Goodreads. She’s received “Top 25 Poetry Blog of the Net,” and her poetry journal was used as a “Scientific Experiment” by the data team & company Automattic that owns (WordPress).


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      4. Daily Prompt: Compromise
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Three Painted Horses Poem Image

Three Painted Horses Poem

In, “Three Painted Horses Poem,” I get stuck in artist & writer’s block. A lull between not feeling well, caring for Bianca, and too much busyness.

My imagination slips between crevices of time. I find it hard at times to free the wild horses that come from within. Wild horses so visual and colorful. But, today is Sunday, and everything has now quieted. I’ve opened my mind and I am free to paint words and color. Three Painted Horses Poem


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Three Painted Horses Poem

She stands in
shifting sand,      planted in an earth’s core.
only she can feel

and when
she yearns for the vastness

thunderous music call to her ears
into the wind

crashing waves
with azure blue

beautiful as three horses

her imagination
once empty of colors
begin to paint

and the visualization
she scrapes across

a white canvas.

©2018 Linda J. Wolff (Google), and “Three Painted Horses Poem.”




LINDA J. WOLFF (WOLFF POETRY) lives in Washington. She’s currently the editor of online journal Wolff Poetry and resource site for beginning writers. Her work published in an eBook Urban Pen; Poetic Writings of Linda J. Wolff on Amazon, Barn & Noble, and Goodreads. She’s received “Top 25 Poetry Blog of the Net,” and her poetry journal was used as a “Scientific Experiment” by the data team & company Automattic that owns (WordPress).


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      4. Daily Prompt: Present
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thirty-four blueberries poem image

Thirty-Four Blueberries Poem

In, “Thirty-Four Blueberries Poem,” I watch her. After five days of being home, she’s restless. Restless with a little body and a heart that drives inspiration.

In, “Thirty-Four Blueberries Poem,” but five days kept her prisoner with a high fever. Containment is not for children. Pleading and begging despite a mother’s intuition she wants more than anything to walk from these four walls of this apartment. Finally, the gripping fever releases the hold on her body. A butterfly breaks free into a world of color and knowledge. I must let her go so that she can flutter and touch souls.


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Thirty-Four Blueberries Poem

Thirty-four blueberries and a
restless soul.

Trees stand.
Rising sun in a hustling land.

The coming solace
that holds a
child— leans into

graying blue
finger-stained
sliding glass window filled
with a new dawn
a daughter touches

blue then red then laughs
announces I have a magic touch.

©2018 Linda J. Wolff (Google), and “Thirty-four Blueberries Poem.”




LINDA J. WOLFF (WOLFF POETRY) lives in Washington. She’s currently the editor of online journal Wolff Poetry and resource site for beginning writers. Her work published in an eBook Urban Pen; Poetic Writings of Linda J. Wolff on Amazon, Barn & Noble, and Goodreads. She’s received “Top 25 Poetry Blog of the Net,” and her poetry journal was used as a “Scientific Experiment” by the data team & company Automattic that owns (WordPress).


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      4. Daily Prompt: Rube
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Invisible is the new bud yearning to burst from a branch yet formed.

Within time, and circumstances, splitting green skin will yield a pink rose.

Promises of dreams to come,

Gentle Perfume Rictameter Verse Image

Gentle Perfume Rictameter Verse

In, “Gentle Perfume Rictameter Verse,” today is Valentine’s Day for some and not others. The day or night has passed. But, for myself, it’s Valentine’s Day every day.

In, “Gentle Perfume Rictameter Verse,” Why should one day be designated for lovers, couples, family, and friends? To show love, I find a particular meaning, to reach out and touch souls. Across the world, love felt if it’s spoken and shown through a pure heart. It has no color, language barrier. It just exists if we are open to it. A quote and a Rictameter Verse for you to contemplate. Here’s to hoping you all have a very special Happy Valentine’s Day with your loved ones!

“When we speak from a pure heart we awaken butterflies in the release of love.”


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Gentle Perfume Rictameter Verse

Fragrance…
The velveteen
petals fall to a floor
softly, pieces of yesterday
cling to existence, fingers scooping pink
And layering a crystal bowl.
Sweetness drifts upward in
elegance and
fragrance.

©2018 Linda J. Wolff (Google), and “Gentle Perfume Rictameter Verse.”




LINDA J. WOLFF (WOLFF POETRY) lives in Washington. She’s currently the editor of online journal Wolff Poetry and resource site for beginning writers. Her work published in an eBook Urban Pen; Poetic Writings of Linda J. Wolff on Amazon, Barn & Noble, and Goodreads. She’s received “Top 25 Poetry Blog of the Net,” and her poetry journal was used as a “Scientific Experiment” by the data team & company Automattic that owns (WordPress).


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      3. Grab Urban Pen: Poetic Writings of Linda J. Wolff – Vol #1 Poetry eBook: If you are an avid reader of poetry and enjoy the poetry vibe here. Grab Our Newest Release of Urban Pen: Poetic Writings of Linda J. Wolff 
      4. Daily Prompt: Suspicious
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Souls in Open Paint Cans Poem Image

Souls in Open Paint Cans Poem

In, “Souls in Open Paint Cans Poem,” I am aware of the memories I’ve never experienced. What does it mean to see things I can not have. And I’m Ok with that.

As I child, mother and father did their best they could in the circumstances. With six hungry mouths to feed, clothe, and other means of expenses. I would appreciate the little trips to the ice cream parlor “Lil Bear. Mother would save every nickel and penny just to take us there; it was our favorite trip on Sunday’s, something that gets us so excited. My favorite was chocolate, swirl ice cream cone. In, “Souls in Open Paint Cans Poem,” I could only dream of being this teenage girl who could paint her soul on walls.


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Souls in Open Paint Cans Poem

The door to the basement creaked
an eerie sound replicating an old ghost moving
through the attic walls.

Step by step I went into the descent of
musty aroma and cobwebs tickling my nose.
Achoo, achoo, and again achoo.

The basement was a treasure chest.
Open a latch to GOD knows what you’d find.

Today, was the day I’d paint my soul.
Mother sent me on an exploration to find treasure in color.
The colors that come in small, medium, and large paint cans.
Colors that’d paint leaves green, and roses red.

Long ago she loved to paint on canvas; she would sit outside
on the old wicker chair and stare at the sky, the flowers, and the trees that
would go on forever in the farmer’s backfield.

She told me it was soul food, to be able to
eat everything through eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.
Poor mother couldn’t paint anymore, fingers laced with
arthritis she could only dream about it.

My bedroom size of 12 x 10 was a perfect white canvas and me with a
heart just as big bursting with creativity was symmetry.

One by one I chose the colors of lavender, lime green, and gray
from her selection of paint, and with each brush stroke I
painted my soul in color on white walls and brought back dreams from the dead.

©2018 Linda J. Wolff (Google), and “Souls in Open Paint Cans Poem.”




LINDA J. WOLFF (WOLFF POETRY) lives in Washington. She’s currently the editor of online journal Wolff Poetry and resource site for beginning writers. Her work published in an eBook Urban Pen; Poetic Writings of Linda J. Wolff on Amazon, Barn & Noble, and Goodreads. She’s received “Top 25 Poetry Blog of the Net,” and her poetry journal was used as a “Scientific Experiment” by the data team & company Automattic that owns (WordPress).


The First Things You Should do here at Wolff Poetry:

      1. If You’re New to Wolff Poetry: Don’t forget to SIGN-IN on the Meet-Up Page to connect with other beautiful bloggers. Sign in Here – Join WordPress Meetup
      2. Read Our Post:  “18 Free Online Writing Tools for Writers” to Grow Your Presence as a Writer & Get Your Writing Published.
      3. Grab Urban Pen: Poetic Writings of Linda J. Wolff – Vol #1 Poetry eBook: If you are an avid reader of poetry and enjoy the poetry vibe here. Grab Our Newest Release of Urban Pen: Poetic Writings of Linda J. Wolff 
      4. Daily Prompt: Lecture
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unpacking pieces poem image

Unpacking Pieces Poem

In, “Unpacking Pieces Poem,” I sort through the pieces of me. Some as old as time itself, but, every one of them has a significant edge and smoothness.

Through, “Unpacking Pieces Poem,” Each one holds sadness, pain, joy, and blessings. They offer more to others. For me, I’ve stored them too long. But, its when I open the package through open lips, that is when the actual, beautiful storytelling begins. Those seeking answers, those trying to heal. They want to eat it through eyes, nose, mouths, and ears. I didn’t realize for so long that I could help them until I learned to unpack pieces of me through words.


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Unpacking Pieces Poem

Before the rise of the sun, I would
Transform my thoughts. Unpacking bits and
pieces of contention and bliss;

stored away between my sleepiness and a
vacuum-packed jar of energy eager to burst.

Fluttering thoughts never touch white paper.

But it was the ink that excited me.
Like a magician, I spelled words from visuals,

cut out synonyms of yesterday with steaming
vapors off the rim of enamel painted coffee cup.

It breathed transformatively.

Just as morning evaporated, I would surrender,
leave my body behind and paint words into something eloquent.

Almost tangible, words touching storms,
words with guidance so kind. I watched them

leave me and enter eyes of others.
I knew now why GOD had spared my life.

In hopes of helping others unpack the pieces.

©2018 Linda J. Wolff (Google), and “Unpacking Pieces Poem.”




LINDA J. WOLFF (WOLFF POETRY) lives in Washington. She’s currently the editor for online journal Wolff Poetry and resource site for beginning writers. Her work can be found in a published eBook Urban Pen; Poetic Writings of Linda J. Wolff on Amazon, Barn & Noble, and Goodreads. She’s received “Top 25 Poetry Blog of the Net” and her poetry was used as a “scientific experiment” by the data team & company Automattic that owns (WordPress).


The First Things You Should do here at Wolff Poetry:

      1. If You’re New to Wolff Poetry: Don’t forget to SIGN-IN on the Meet-Up Page to connect with other beautiful bloggers. Sign in Here – Join WordPress Meetup
      2. Read Our Post:  “18 Free Online Writing Tools for Writers” to Grow Your Presence as a Writer & Get Your Writing Published.
      3. Grab Urban Pen: Poetic Writings of Linda J. Wolff – Vol #1 Poetry eBook: If you are an avid reader of poetry and enjoy the poetry vibe here. Grab Our Newest Release of Urban Pen: Poetic Writings of Linda J. Wolff 
      4. Daily Prompt: Mnemonic
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Transparent Words in Crossing Poem Image

Transparent Words in Crossing Poem

In, “Transparent Words in Crossing Poem,” I watch her goings and coming. Fighting to hold on to something she knows will take her. She forces herself to move.

With, Transparent Words in Crossing poem, I see her from my sliding glass window. Baby step after baby step. I have the most significant admiration for someone who doesn’t quit just cause everyone else says that she should. Does a rose die just because the fall and winter have stripped her leaves and petals? No, not at all. The rose waits patiently. When the sun rises and warms the dirt she lies in; she smiles once more in crimson red petals she wears. She burst from her new bud and gives life her best. Her very best. Below, you can read about a lovely lady who surpasses the word “effort.’


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Transparent Words in Crossing Poem

Every day, it was like clockwork.
Baby steps come from the frailty of 98 pounds.
Graying hair long enough to weave wigs for the less fortunate.

It was the visits from my love and hanging outside that brought Lilly to us.
With the soft, shallow words longing for longevity.
She would whisper; “Can I have a smoke?”

Granted, my boyfriend would always have a smoke before he’d come inside to visit,
and he would offer her two cigarettes.

She would smile. A small smile with pink petals.

She’d stand with us sharing conversation, puffs, and air.

My heart a heartache. For, I knew Lilly’s life days had a number.

It was pure if the sun sprinkled the ground with glitter, or
the rain-saturated clothing, there’s always an umbrella.

But, to listen to the transparent words in crossing, and know that life isn’t forever.
Is to relish in the stories of yesterday like beautiful blossoms that come for the spring and summer.
And then they’re gone.

So, every day, like clockwork. I would walk with baby steps, and pink rose petals.

©2018 Linda J. Wolff (Google), and “Transparent Words in Crossing Poem.”




I believe in something. That something to be, that we are everything we eat, see, and hear. I try to keep my eyes wide open other than sleeping. In doing so, I am able to see pink petals in the entity of people. I like to see the good in people, and even the dark side. It helps me to be centered, I don’t ever want to become of soul that doesn’t feel. With meeting Lilly for the first time, I saw a lonely flower. Standing outside her doorway as I would pass. So, I reached out and said hello, and since then our meeting has bloomed into a beautiful pink rose. I am grateful for my time with her now, and I will nurture our friendship as long as possible.

Thank you for stopping in and giving us your time. Hoping you’re having a gracious morning, or afternoon, and maybe a night.

Linda J. Wolff


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      4. Daily Prompt: Simplify
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Melting Chocolate poem and Rookie Image

Melting Chocolate Poem

In, “Melting Chocolate Poem,” I wake to the sound of rubber crunching against the pavement and the song from feathery friends on low branches.

Today, the sun chose to hide behind a few gray wanderings. I took many steps to place my sweet, adorable bubbling Bianca upon the yellow bus.

In, Melting Chocolate Poem, I stole even more steps to supercharge oxygen through veins and touch nature, to touch life outside of the four walls of my apartment. It’s what inspire butterflies to flutter inside my mind wall. But, there’s another entity in my life that spurs the energy in my heart. My little furry creature, Rookie. Below, you can read more about him and how he melts chocolate.


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Melting Chocolate Poem

I felt those piercing eyes, eyes that’d stare…
backed by a soft growl.

Imploring, pleading one more time. One more time.
Then the impeeding pounce against thighs.

Pricks were indulging the flesh.

I would have to put it away. Away beyond visibility.
Hidden. But then, the nose would twitch,
up into the air, then back down along floorboards.

Whimper.
Whimpering again as if
I have nothing more important than tossing a
tan fuzzy sphere.
Of course, I gave in.

Who really couldn’t ignore the sweetness,
and adorable brown saucers looking into
your hazel eyes with love enough to
melt chocolate on the floor.

©2018 Linda J. Wolff (Google), and “Melting Chocolate Poem.”




Dogs have enate energy that exudes from their presence. They also have a sense when one is suffering, or ill. My Rookie, he is my sunshine. And my Bianca my shining star. After we put miss Bianca on the bus, it’s a must to take a walk on the wild side. Every day is unique in itself. The things we see, the people we meet. We greet with eyes wide open, mouths carrying sunshine. And words that wake butterflies within one’s soul.

We hope that you’ve enjoyed reading our little storytelling and poem.
Thank you,
Linda J. Wolff


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      4. Daily Prompt: Tend
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