Birth of a Poem 1 (poem) by John Herlihy on AuthorsDen

Birth of a Poem 1
by John Herlihy → (All Poetry by John Herlihy)
Saturday, May 9, 2026 Rated "G" by the Author.

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Birth of a Poem by John Herlihy These poems – well, they just keep on coming, They come from where, humming – drumming On the balcony, at the bus stop, or on the bus, I dictate them on my phone, to us, to us, to us. Rhythms soon begin to gather, then to mount, Ideas begin to spill forth I cannot rightly count. Breath to make us breathless, hard to breathe, Fresh words filling the page that cannot deceive. Bright sparks to capture before riding the wind, That turn into a conflagration unable to rescind. Fire as smoldering embers burning in the heart, Left behind ashes, aromatic incense to depart. Felt not as pain but ache as the poem is born, The verses, flow, finish, from imagination torn. Hand-scripted with an ebony ink-tipped feather, Dandelion seeds in the wind ride thru heather. - - - - Copyright © John Herlihy Tuesday 6 January 2026

Reviewed by Jms Bell

Reviewed on May 21, 2026

WHAT A FINE WORK, MY FRIEND. YOU'RE A POET, JOHN. CALLED AND SANCTIONED...AND THERE IS NOTHING YOU OR ANYONE ELSE CAN DO ABOUT IT, INDEED!!! YOUR MUSE FROM HEAVEN'S COURTS RELENTLESSLY FILLS YOU...AND NOT FOR NAUGHT. FOR THRU YOUR PEN 'THE DEN', AND SO MANY OTHERS, ARE BLESSED TOO. THANK YOU FOR SHARING...I AM DELIGHTED THAT YOU RESIDE HERE IN OUR NEIGHBORHOOD. LOVE, BLESSINGS AND FAITH...HIS+INSPIRATIONS

Reviewed by Odin odin@aflx.com

Reviewed on May 10, 2026

A bit of magic in this piece... in that a reader should find it paradoxically intimate and first-person identity, while knowing the words are those of another, finding singularity in poetry, poets, and those of us unafraid to express, even if for but a few readers. Kudos.

Reviewed by Ronald Hull

I noticed how you started out with straight description, and then, automatically started rhyming. I do that, too. I can't write without rhyming anymore. Sometimes when I'm writing a straight prose story or article.

But how you come up with a new poem every day is difficult for me to fathom. I find myself repeating themes and even titles, writing only one poem a week.

I can see how your phone helps you because you can dictate your poems from anywhere you are whenever you get the muse, and are not engaged in other things, like riding the bus or waiting for the bus on the corner. That's one aspect of modern technology that helps both you and me with my poems and yours.

Keep writing�I enjoy every one of your unique ways of presenting your poem each day.

Ron

Reviewed by Richard Cederberg

You chose �birth� instead of creating or writing a poem. Like the poem is the child of your thoughts and you are its mother. Or perhaps like a quiet internal storm where the poet in his daily walk is preparing to gestate something new. Where the whole experience (how the words and images emerge, and are shaped by personal experience, emotions, and unique discipline) is as much about release as it is about arrival. Thanks for arousing thought John. Enjoyed this. Peace.

Reviewed by Rebecca McKeehan

Reviewed on May 9, 2026

Know these feelings well. You describe the process exactly as it is for me as well. A poet's descriptive journey.

Rebecca