I heard a plea To flee This temptress Bewitching me A wicked glint In her pale eyes I couldn't move As she bit her lip To bleed The last part Of my heart Right before he fell Under her spell as well ©Entirety...
Dear Poet Let me sink in To the way You overwhelm So I can do nothing But inhale and exhale The pieces of you That have fallen from the sky To nourish beauty In my soul ©Entirety 2017
Soaking into my skin In the sweet summer warmth Sending a frisson along my spine As nakedness And shame drift aside This rain Shreds my facade Like tissue paper And I am home this season In myself ©Entirety 2017
July 28, 2017
It’s nearly the end of July and back to school still seems like eons away. I’m sure there are plenty of parents who can echo this sentiment while we do our best to fill these summer days and break up fights of bored siblings.
We spent a week camp nursing and now we are two days away from heading to the Canadian shield for my family’s annual lake adventure. I have been going since I was born and now so have my kids, it’s a tradition that is embedded in the Martens family which I hope we will never shake.
In the last month Dear Poet has sprouted up on Amazon in print and Kindle, on Barnes and Noble online store in print and today it went live on KOBO, while ibooks and Google play are just around the corner from being live as well. Navigating this territory has at times felt overwhelming but have had a few hand holders along the way which has made it manageable.
Here’s to another month of summer fun, and hope you are finding a bit of relaxing to enjoy what you love!
Entirety J Roberts
Meet the woman behind the pen
Some days writing makes me feel like a mad scientist, mixing words with feelings for a reaction. Other days it makes me feel like a god, creating worlds and people inside of them for the sole purpose of worshipping the beauty of words.
Some days writing makes me feel like a midwife, helping birth ideas and stories into life. While other days I feel like a mourner, saying goodbye to what was and what will never be again.
Some days writing makes me feel like a physician, passing out elixirs in words to alter well-being. But it also makes me feel like a patient, waiting for a cure, for that unceasing ache, that comes in the presence of beauty, sensuality, under the hands of love and lust.
Whatever it is, whatever role I play, I know it’s here, I’m meant to be; carving out a life that fulfills, that brings me both meaning and pleasure. Letting me be found, as a chemist, a femme-sage, a curer, an ailer or even a griever.
Letting me be all of these, simultaneously, unapologetically, so I can just be me.
That’s what writing does for me. This is why I write.