artist poem



Helpless, blue in the face
Because I can’t take a breath
Until I quench this thirst.
I look outside and see
Nothing but poison rain.
A rising flood of feeling is inside of me,
But no words to let it out with.
A silent forest:
Sickly branches scratch my eyelids
But still, I cannot move.

I look up at a dry sky
The ground is thirsty,
My pen is thirsty,
So I open a vein but nothing comes out,
No blood spills to relieve my pain.
Staring at the ceiling
As if waiting for it to say something;
Waiting for words…
Where are the silvery word-wisps
That usually flow like rain?
Where are the fables, stories, tales?

My words are locked up
With a key I cannot find
Swimming in limbo,
Lost in the labyrinth of my own mind.
All pent-up inside: Prisoners; captives,
The ember has died;
Only cold ashes left behind;
A flower that refuses to unfurl.

A lovely little worm stirs in my brain,
The tiny brush of a feather.
But then it’s gone and I’m all used up:
A fire out of smoke,
A cloud out of rain,
A pen out of ink.


Hello, I am the author of an ongoing poetry collection here on Image Curve, and I recently published an eBook called “Em”. It’s a picture book for kids that I also illustrated. Click here to get your copy on Amazon:

buy Lëaf Ednïwinga’s book on amazon: Em: A Picture-Book Fable

more by Lëaf Ednïwinga

photograph Sylvain Reygaerts

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Lëaf Ednïwinga

Artist, dreamer, coffee addict, vagabond traveler and world's most creative adrenaline junkie. I'm in love with poetry & dream to spend my days writing Steampunk fantasy, drinking tea & drawing what butterfly wings look like under a microscope. I have always been most drawn to writing about legends, whether that's retelling them or completely re-imagining them, because there is so much mystery and potential there. I believe that the most inspiration comes from our darkest days, not the ones where we are happiest, because if we are happy, we don't have much to write about. A few years ago, I spent over 9 months in Karaganda, Kazakhstan where I taught EFL during the day and wrote poetry by night. During that time I was at a really fragile point in my life, so writing was really my only escape. I wrote over 200 poems during my time there, which sparked my love of the genre. I don't follow any particular type of poetry or rules, I just write what feels right, sometimes all rhyming, sometimes only partially or internally rhyming, and sometimes not rhyming at all. Besides reading other authors' poetry, I am most inspired by Hans Christian Andersen's and Grimm's Fairytales, and well-written modern fantasies. I like a style that is reminiscent of Tolkien as well as fantasies that borrow a lot of material from preexisting fairy tales, folk legends and mythology. My writing strengths, as told to me by those who have read my work, are a great talent for visual description, especially in my poetry, for example, putting words together that conjure up vivid imagery in people's minds. I like to call that "word-art." I write about people's emotions, I describe feelings that they know very well but can't put into words, and that is why my writing is personal and easy to identify with. One by one, the poems come down From their flight on high Like so many wild, winging birds And alight on my paper, mine at last. To get chapters of my NEW Fantasy series Raven delivered to your inbox every Friday, visit Raven's webpage & enter your email address in the form! Besides weekly chapter of Raven you'll also get: ~Exclusive Freebies, giveaways, discounts, gift cards, prizes, special offer, event tickets, and more!

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