About Eve Poetry – Poetess
Deanna Ramirez is the creator of Eve Poetry and Eve Poetry Magazine.
Deanna lives in Portland, Oregon with her husband and three children. The photo above is from a recent family vacation to Disneyland. Photo shows Deanna, her husband, and two daughters.
Creation of Eve
In June of 2018, I selected the pen name Eve Poetry. I created a new Instagram account with this handle, and began dedicating some of my free time to writing. The pressure valve of my soul was about to blow, and Instagram was a solution for the creative outlet maintenance that I needed. The name Eve Poetry would effectively hide my identity, so that I could keep my writing a shameful little secret, too embarrassed to admit my heart’s desire (like so many other writers and creatives – you know this is true!). Sharing my poetry in this way enabled and empowered me to fully convey a message or feeling and fit my words on small square post size that is permitted on the Instagram platform. It was a natural starting point for me.
Why the name, Eve?
Why the name Eve? There are a few reasons I chose this name. The Oxford Dictionary defines the word eve as: the day or period of time immediately before an event or occasion. Seems fitting, right? Creating the Eve Poetry Instagram account was the eve of my acknowledgement. The acknowledgment that I am a writer, a poetess, and that writing is what I want to do with my life.
The name Eve means to breathe or to live. Penning and sharing poetry, and writing my first novel, feels like a most fulfilling inhale and exhale. It gives me breath. Owning and acknowledging myself as a writer is me living.
Finally (and I saved the best for last), a reason that includes my husband. I met my husband in the fifth grade. We attended a small private Christian school in California (a school I only attended for two years). I was the only fifth grader at this tiny school until Reese showed up just before Christmas break. Fast forward to our sixth grade year, and it seemed like he and I were repeatedly paired together for skits and school plays. In one such play, Reese and I were selected to play Adam and Eve. Never in a thousand years would this sixth grade girl imagine she would one day marry Adam. Fortunately, Reese and I reconnected many years later as adults, and married in 2017. That’s the short version (you’re welcome!).
She built a Wall One after another Until she built a box
There she stays Stored away Without any doors or locks
No one cares to figure her out Who cares what she’s all about
Her only company Her cries and screams Because she can’t get out
Love Is, by Ashley Thompson
Love is a blessing, Love is a curse Love can be better, Love can be worse Love can make you rich, Love can leave you broke Love can be the punchline, Love can be the joke Love can be as cool and refreshing as iced tea Love can be robust like wine Love is to choice, as back is to spine Love is a rebel that crosses the line Love can be angelic, Love can be demonic Love is a drug that makes us all a bit moronic
I reside in Topeka, Kansas. I’m a homemaker devoted to my son and spending time with family.
My focus for writing began in my teens and into my adult life as a creative outlet to relieve stress and express my innermost thoughts.
Readers can follow me on Instagram: @ashrthompson1
One fine evening they both met Strangers to each other
She was a delicious blend Of sultry hot and dark With an unforgettable taste
The moment poet’s lips Tasted her for the first time A creativity residing within Started oozing out smoothly
Towards the end of their date Poet felt an instant burst of energy An exquisite parting gift from her
Tejashri Pathak an electronics engineer by day and an accidently turned poet. Her journey to walk on the route started by scribbling some words in her journal.
She belongs to a small town from Maharashtra state in India.She always enjoyed the company of books. She has completed her Masters in Engineering and worked as an assistant professor in an engineering college.
While writing the research papers and her project thesis she realised she could do something with words but it took her 3 years to actually start creating poetry. She loves to convey raw emotions through poetry.
Currently, she is planning to publish a book of her poems and her future plans include writing a fiction novel. She has an Instagram account where she shares her creations: @soul_lost_in_poetry_
I paced myself through a forest of fire, Where the woods served a purpose of Destruction.
Hunger and thirst parades my body. There is no nutrition to satisfy this hunger. No stream to quench this Thirst. The blazing fire of an insidious forest surrounds me, I am waiting on it to consume me. Run! Run!
With a shy strength I ran towards the unknown, However trembling by the hoarse roar of flames chasing me. Run! Run!
The muttering of my panicked soul Alert me. I looked ahead, and all I saw was pain and horror. Every tree reminded Me of fear and sorrow.
But I grew tired and Weary. I fell on to my knees. Desperate to catch a breath, yet all I inhaled was Toxic fumes from the unforgiving flame.
I became confined to my knees. Then a steady voice told me to look up at the sky. As I raised my head towards the vast atmosphere, the blessed rain poured from the sky putting to death that insidious fire. As that rain tapped my face, I felt whole again I closed my eyes to immerse myself in its gentle touch. When I opened them, I was at home.
My name is Catherine Fasoro. I am a 19-year-old university student studying English Literature and Creative Writing in the UK. I am originally from Nigeria and lived there for 8 years until I moved to the UK 11 years ago with my family.
I started writing at 16 and writing came randomly to me. I was outside with a pen and paper and suddenly felt the urge to listen to what my soul was saying and translate this into writings in a paper. After this experience I became in love with poetry.
Since then, it has become a denomination of therapy for me. It is a way to express that part of myself that yearns to use art as a passage to come out.
Writing is something I take seriously and hope to have a career in. I desire to become a published author with novels and poetry collections. I have the intentions of writing a book and have already mustered ideas about this novel and also a title. Writing to me is a gift that I want to use to bring about light in this world. Through writing, I want to make a change in the world, using it as a voice for many who resonate with what I write.
Another love of mine is dance. Especially contemporary dance which I regard as an art, which to me is poetry which uses movements instead of words to express emotions. Overall, I am an INFP overloaded with many ideas and constantly trying to find meaning in life.
steps crunch into snow
disrupting the silence of a world weighed down by cold
and exhaled frosty breath lingers in the air
like the icy ghost of a last kiss
before disappearing without a goodbye
Fortitude by Jaimee Boake
Rolled out like a welcome mat
I let you in without thinking-
didn’t realize that with each step you took/
I would shrink.
Now your footsteps are
etched like a tattoo along the memory of my spine/
and I’ve struggled to shrug
your weight off my shoulders
I am starting to straighten
on top of vertebrae on top of vertebrae
like the stones of a fortress wall
so you’ll never walk over me again.
Having long been fascinated with reading and writing of all forms, Jaimee Boake is a high school English Language Arts, Creative Writing, and Leadership teacher in Sherwood Park, Alberta.
When not working she loves playing sports and board games, hanging out with her dogs, spending time with family, and drinking lots of coffee.
She is happiest, always, in the mountains. More of her work can be found in Purple Fire Publications Write Connection Magazine. Instagram: @jaimeeannethology
Life gifted me many lemons, but I didn’t know what to do with them.
I don’t particularly like lemonade.
I thought, “I’ll give them to some friends,” and then had fewer, but the rest continue to hang in the basket
Cortni Merritt is a mom and entrepreneur living in Orlando, FL. She earned her M.A. in English literature and has served as an editor, ghostwriter, and book coach for 100+ fiction and nonfiction authors.
Her poetry has been featured in Bear Creek Haiku, Ariel Chart, Halcyon Days, and Former People, and she self-published her first collection of haiku and accompanying artwork, Slices of Silence, in 2019.
Cortni posts poetry and details of her writer’s journey on Instagram: @cortni.m.dreams.
maybe one day you’ll get in your car and never come back as this road finally takes you where you were supposed to be all along maybe one day you’ll get in your car all alone, but never lonely you’ll turn on the ignition and start driving without hesitation with no destination and no restriction just you and your car maybe you’ll make friends along the way maybe you’ll pick up some hitchhikers and who knows, maybe you’ll even find love in some stranger’s eyes but even if you’ll just stay on your own you will wake up one morning somewhere you’ve never been before where no one knows your name and you’ll feel free like you never have before you’ll find beauty in not belonging anywhere you’ll find happiness inside yourself again you’ll be that person, that you love so much but said goodbye to so many days and nights ago along the road you will find yourself again hidden somewhere between bushes and stones between the eyes of strangers and small villages you will find yourself standing in front of a dirty restroom mirror looking at a completely new person wild and free smiling despite the knots in her hair smiling, no matter what one day you’ll get in your car, and never look back
Flood, by Lina Heller
I can go days without thinking of you but then, out of nowhere my mind gets flooded with all these memories and pictures of you and no matter how high and how strong I build my walls eventually they’ll always cave
I’m 20 years old and from Germany. Currently, I‘m studying literature, art & media at university.
I’m music addicted, happy when it rains and I love photography.
Writing has always been my way of talking without having to open my mouth. It is my way of coping with reality; I guess. I hope, that someday I’ll get to publish my own poetry book. But until then I’ll fill page after page of my grey notebook.
but those tiny shreds
that I once had lost!
in your soul
And I found my peace.
The emotions settles within
A silhouette touch,
craving for your dark,
Your beats are my home.
I’m Rachita Praharaj, I belong to Odisha, India. I’m a student of Commerce and I’m 17.
Other than Writing I love to dance and read, I read a lot of web novels and poetry.
To me, writing is an escape, from this chaotic world to a place of my own, a place where my chaos finds peace. One day surely I would want to publish my poetry book, but not working in that yet.
My Instagram account is @the_closet_lines, I post all my words there!
If one night I was sitting in my bedroom by my lonesome Illuminated only by the glare of the moonlight With the weight of the world rested on my shoulders Squeezing tears out through the cracks of my eyelids You’d come over, right?
You’d rest your head between my chest and make melodies of my heartbeats as the moon gives in to the sunrise The clouds swallowing her whole and as the rain pours down today turns into yesterday There, I am under the pavilion thinking to myself You’d come over, right?
If my heart was in my hands and my soul bled through my chest You’d come over right? To stitch me up and make me whole again? Because if I’m going to be honest with you I can’t keep filling my cracks with gold because I’ll just be looked at as an object not a treasure Thieves will only try to take the valuable pieces that remain and leave me broken I don’t have enough left of me to keep hoping And all I ever do now is lie awake dreaming of feeling your warmth again Knitting our fingers through each other hands And with one blink it all disappears You’d come over, right?
If I called you late at night with no words on my lips The sound of dread in my breath waiting for your voice to pull me back down to earth I’ve never needed anyone Not before love anyway But now after heartbreak and heartache and headaches and long days My exhaustion became my existence I reminisce on a past that only brought blades to my skin I dream of a future that is out of reach yet I would rather tear myself limb from limb and build a bridge from my bones to get to you because in my mind I know that if I did that You’d come over... right?
Hello, it’s Christian! I’m originally from Long Island, NY but I currently live in Boca Raton, FL. I write poetry as a side hobby, along with my other hobby, acting (I’m a Theatre major at FAU).
Dear Best Friend, All that time we spent together Yet I wonder how I clicked with you You are the one to spoil me Yet people think I am the one who spoiled you You have lots of my ugly photos Just remember, so do I Now that we have our own ways Yet we make sure, that at some points our paths converge You are my mentor You are my friend You are my partner till our end
Dear Best Friend I remember the day I met you That day in the lab You walked straight towards me With a smile you greeted me From that day till now You are one of the best friends I have found No matter what time or day You always know how to make me laugh Even though we don’t meet as often But whenever you see me You still greet me with the same crazy smile For five years I have known you And I wish to know you till the day I die
Hi, my name is Alina Mirza. I am from India. Reading books and writing poems (only when inspiration strikes!) are the hobbies that I enjoy the most.
For me, writing gives words to my scattered thoughts. Writing along with two of my friends motivates me to do better, whether it is writing or any other activity. Together we created an Instagram account named “The Memory Cache” where we share our writings with the people.