Fruit that fails to decompose

From trees that never die

In fields that catch the rainbows

Spilling from my inkwell eyes

Where ash and dust on paper

Stamps eternal fingerprints

Perfume that lingers later

When my body’s heaven scent

To those of us who lie awake

Each night amidst our thoughts.

Words aswimming against the stream

Just longing to be caught.

To those of us who grasp at rest

Just outside our reach.

As schemes are being hatched between

Our waking and our sleep.

To those of us who've donned the hats

Of more characters than we can count.

Who've travelled all the world round

While never leaving the living room couch.

To those who dream beyond their reach,

Who paint without the brush.

Creating something out of nothing

Too glorious to be touched.

A salute to all who live by the pen

Who know not when genius will strike.

Who have forgone the clock

And refuse to live

By such simple restraints as time.

To those whose hearts spill out unabashed

Like ink overturned on the page.

Who get cut time and time again

But can only bleed in black.

Adding myself to this rank of dreamers,

The ones who can't stay in the lines,

Has truly caused no grievance as such

For where else could I be genuine?

So here's to us:

The lovers, the seekers,

The wild eyed dreamers.

The ones playing tag on the moon.

Who leap across rooftops,

Play hide n' seek with the stars

Then softly land back in their rooms.

So let's raise a glass to the poets of old,

And those just starting to sprout.

For a world without you would be oh so dull,

Your creativity truly stands you out.

Creativity is a leaky faucet

Constantly dripping

Often lost to the drain

Ideas often forgotten

Disregarded

But even twigs are needed

To start a fire

In the midst of the chaos, breathe.

In the midst of the storm, do.

On the verge of a break, try.

On the edge of the cliff, turn.

When it seems too much, go.

When it's getting too heavy, wait.

Breathe.

Creativity is the key to our humanity

It calls out to us in the midst of the mundane

It washes over us like the mist of our highest mountains

This is our reality now, the one we created

We keep on climbing, never satisfied

Not until our spirit is realized

At times it falls upon me

Like dust onto a lamp

At times I have to seek it

Like a coward to courage

As rain is to a drought

As fire to the cold

That is the godly breath

Rarely felt within me.

Breathe the breath of life they said

Into everything you do.

Don’t ever stop creating

For that is what we are meant to do.

What is life without art

And poetry too.

How about all the music

You listen to,

Don’t for one minute think

That life is not grand.

When we have all these

Words and paintings

Like we have blood in

Our hands.

Please remember you are important

And have something to say

For our gift to the world

Is showing our creativity.

So many diversities so many different hearts. My opinion is that creativity comes from the heart not the head. Each second of each minute of each hour of each noon day and midnight the heart is right there in it with us.

From the heart of man comes all kinds of things.

How does a heart fear? Some with intiencity so gripping the whole of the body can't take it. From this heart screeching feeling can come the most vivid creativity. Prayers poems sculpture can take on a form that the viewer may even become startled. Fear speaks it's own voice.

Hearts are so hidden and so mysterious we question whether to follow them or ignore them. When the following becomes joyful oh the reward of it all. Joy put to paper, film, clay, or paint can also give joy to hearts that come upon these joyful creations. As heart speaks to heart joy starts to grow

When the unsuspecting heart is given the opportunity to be exposed to works birthed through joy it too receives joy. Taking the time to be renewed and refreshed from art made from the joy of the heart has it's own rewards. Expressions of joy have characteristics that are cheerful I believe colorful and heart raising.

Creativity belongs to the heart where else could loss of love or familarality create beautiful words of relief. As a heart breaks and needs only to be comforted the creative outlet becomes the tool to begin healing. Put that never ending hurt, the hurt that goes to the deepest part of the heart into creating your expressions can conceives beautiful objects of literature and art. Most will feel some of that pain

So more than likely when you read something or see something created it has come from someone's heart. Creativity can become an outlet to start a new beginning. Reading an article that is confirming your own heart brings a higher level of knowing yourself and knowing the one who created all hearts.

God is the Creator and he created all hearts. Creativity then can find it's original origin in the place where God sits, the throne in the heavenlys far above our sight. Bringing God down to earth through hearts out of creativity, is a way of joining all of us under one heart. Something in common nobody sees, is all creativity is pure. Pure creation only becomes defiled by a corrupt interpretation that the heart never ment to be.

Creativity is a free word! It comes from the word create. I like to believe that creativity is a free and inpsired word for everyone who wants,tries to put their feelings down on a papper and give their say on what a few important things or people in their life mean.

It can inspire people who paint too to draw not only their feelings but let their mind travel and make something amazing that can change the way they see life and problems and anything they want!

It's also for every single soul out there who always tried to be heard but people never actually cared. It's for people who have difficulties on their lives or problems in general.

It gives the freedom to let us be heard! Do what you want to do...Be free!