Author: The Expressionist Literary Magazine

Writing Outside of the Office Desk

Writing Outside of the Office Desk

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By Kathryn Harry, Content Writer

Writing is often considered a uniquely sedentary practice. While it has the power to transport writers across worlds, many of us only do so from the confines of our homes. There is, of course, nothing wrong with this, however the monotonous nature of this setting could dampen one’s creative spirit over time. Naturally, it would be great to switch things up every once in a while, and what better way to do so than by stepping out of the self-made writing bubble and into the outside world? As the spring season approaches for many, here are some different exercises to try incorporating the outside world into your writing process: 

WALKING IT OUT 

If you find yourself stuck in a plot hole, or you’ve written yourself into a corner, or perhaps you’ve just been staring at a blank page for too long, you may find it beneficial to put aside your work and take a leisurely outdoor stroll instead. Not only would the change in scenery act as a nice refresher for the mind, but moving the body could help generate new ideas on your own accord. Carrying a device with which you could voice record yourself as you walk could also be helpful, so that there is no need to stop and jot any particularly striking ideas down. 

OBSERVING NATURAL SCENERY 

Sometimes what the creative mind needs is to just sit and watch the world around you. Find a bench in your local park, a nice stump or rock to sit on, or even a nice clover clearing to station yourself at for a while. Use this time to really take everything in: the scenery, how the sun feels on your head or the wind against your cheek, any smells or textures and the emotions they spark within you. More importantly, write everything down. This could be in the form of a journal entry, an exercise in your chosen genre, or even just bullet points for future reference. What’s important is absorbing the scenery with which you have become a part of, and using that for creative fuel. 

PEOPLE WATCHING 

For this, you’ll have to find an area that is slightly more people-dense; perhaps a seat at your local café, or around the grocery store. Once you’ve found your spot, really pay attention to the people around you. Focus on the way they interact, how they carry themselves, the intricacies of their actions that catch your eye. Perhaps you’ll overhear a snippet of dialogue that inspires a scene in your next short story, or the striking color of an elderly woman’s bag becomes the center of a new sonnet. Whatever it is, these observations connect the writer to the world around them and create a social aspect of the activity that isn’t regularly explored. 

No matter how you choose to go about it, it is important to consider how breaking the stationary routine of writing from time to time can be beneficial for both your writing process and inspiration. Even taking a break to open a window and get a breath of fresh air could be enough to refresh the mind. They may seem like simple tactics, but a short walk could take you a long way!

Two Tiny Poems by Nicole Kimball

Two Tiny Poems by Nicole Kimball

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Spring

I learn to grow

the flowers I keep.

I flower the grief

that splits me

like birds

practicing vaulted

V’s in the air.

Go into the water

& fill your lungs –

the flood of

girlhood says,

a river

where memory has

unraveled me. Song

after liquid song –

I should be the

first to wild my

ocean mane,

growing me in

a world that won’t

last forever.

I am addicted

to the smells of lilac

that nibble me into

the ground,

making me born

over & over again.

Field

Congruent shape –

hold me as I am.

Under the tulle

pinched meadow,

a village

sits. Inside is

every woman

I am to be.

Girlhood, arrive.

Hold this,

Hold this

all of me.

Nicole  Kimball (she/her) is a Jewish artist and poet from SLC,UT. A four time Best of the Net nominee, her poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Radar Poetry, Atlanta Review, Lit 202,as well as others. You can find her critically acclaimed artwork on display in the Urban Arts Gallery, located in downtown Salt Lake City. 

Two Tiny Poems by Alisa Lindfield-Pratt

Two Tiny Poems by Alisa Lindfield-Pratt

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After

Green glow after storm
Silence, smell of rain, moisture
Soon to dissipate

Loss

I am lost to her
Taken by the sea sirens
Never wed widow

Alisa is an aspiring writer of queer short fiction and poetry. Alisa’s work has appeared in an anthology by Tim Saunders Publications and a collaborative issue of The Minison Project and Moss Puppy Magazine.  She lives in Australia with her partner, dog and toddler.

Five Tiny Poems by Jigeesha Mukherjee

Five Tiny Poems by Jigeesha Mukherjee

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Red

Red is loud.

I hear it when I see it, in its rumbling cacophony as it

Stands out in a crowd,

Rolling off shoulders of confident signages,

Dripping from brimming canisters of words outspoken

I feel it when I see it.

Viscous as it clings adamantly to those

Who fearlessly painted themselves to show up for those

Who couldn’t.

I smell it when I see it.

Imagining a metallic tang, charred sugar

Around the edges.

Red is history written in the color peeling off people

Who stood like a benevolent barricade before us.

Home-coming

You didn’t come crashing in.

Nothing cinematic. No curtain call or all

That hypothetical pomp.

You didn’t come rolling down

With rainclouds and presage. Or shutters

And film, eulogy, or songs.

No. The way you came was more like

How words bleed themselves into letters

Of ink and love. Blurred.

Between my knowing and unknowing,

Everything was silent. Except for your breath

Knocking against the wind-chimes, told me

Of your homecoming.

Senryu: Shelter

Indecisive. I

seek quicksand castles that hold

me but still afloat.

Senryu: Cheese-trap

A clockwork mouse steps

into the cheese trap. Man in

cage of his own making.

Senryu: The biased healer

When wars end, the night

balm soothes but only gilded

Men of Gilead.

Jigeesha is a Microbiology student in Canada, working on mushroom genetics. She is active in the slam poetry and improv/playback theatre scene and seeks escape from the academic world and lab experiments through written and oral poetry performed to self-composed music. Jigeesha is also the co-founder of science magazines/blogs like InquiScitive and loves to integrate scientific jargon in her literary writings.

Three Tiny Poems by Alicia Turner

Three Tiny Poems by Alicia Turner

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Alicia Turner holds an MA in English and is an English Instructor, poet, & storyteller. She believes that writing is welcoming yourself back home. You can find her jotting down confessional, conversational tidbits of every-day life somewhere in WV. Her work is featured or forthcoming in Four Lines (4lines), CTD’s ‘Pen-2-Paper’ project, Voicemail Poems, FreezeRay Poetry, Drunk Monkeys, Luna Luna, Defunkt Magazine, Sybil Journal, The Daily Drunk, ExPat Press, Rejection Letters Press, Screen Door Review, J Journal Literary Magazine, Sledgehammer Lit, Taint Taint Taint Magazine, Cartridge Lit., Space City Underground, Anti-Heroin Chic, Pink Apple Press, Luphyr Magazine, among others.

Five Tiny Poems by Shamik Banerjee

Five Tiny Poems by Shamik Banerjee

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To My Cat

Find my peace like you have found

The hamster in the nook;

I get it not on earthly ground

Or in a holy book;

While you or it, an obeyer

To Nature’s charter be,

But ‘Unrest’, the sovran preyer,

For self joy it kills me.

Morn Song

The Bellflowers are dancing,

The patron goes to labour,

The mammy and child are plump,

Endows them the cottage spar,

The plowland’s crops enhancing

Hath God’s freshet of favour,

The gallery green with clump,

By no means, heaven be far.

When Falls A Life

When falls a life, shrivels or dies,

Near to me or apart;

My sprite joins theirs to share the cries

And the palpitating heart!

Remote or dear, I partake each–

The loudest, the largest, the small.

I grieve with the ones with lowest screech

And those with nothing at all!

But for them most, my heart is torn

Whose close-knit bosoms live in dearth,

Whose passing will make none to mourn,

Whose occupancy knows not earth.

Chit Song

I in mantle’s chest,

Starling’s in her nest,

Bees and buds abreast,

Dame’s jetting flower,

Sire’s employ’d hour,

Maid’s doughing flour,

Toddlers sweeping ground,

Rabble’s hustling sound,

Sun breaks the day,

Fresh morn in May!

Hoard Not Every Brick

Hoard not every brick and stone,

Want not ev’ry wood and fire,

They will desert thy cairn alone,

When thou art empty of desire.

Thy most rich resource is the sleep

That not on ev’ry eye doth rest,

The only wealth which thou shalt keep

When breath is seiz’d by life’s unrest.

Shamik Banerjee is a poet and poetry reviewer from the North-Eastern belt of India. He loves taking long strolls and spending time with his family. His deep affection with Solitude and Poetry provides him happiness.