Friends, if you’re interested in taking a one-day creative writing workshop with me, I’m teaching two of them in Minneapolis next month. May 5: The Freedom of Form. May 6: Writing through Pivotal Points. Click this link for more information and to register. I’d love to see you there! Long ago I wanted to write a … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Reiner Kunze
Five years ago this week my older daughter and I were sitting on the porch of a cafe in Istanbul, smoking a hookah and eating mezes and pita bread. Later, we walked the streets of our neighborhood, which was on the Bosphorus. At one point the muezzins began their call to prayer, the sound of … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Jaime Manrique
Hey there, little guy. It’s been almost a week now. I washed your blankets and hung them on the line. The mats and small rugs we scattered around on the wood floors to help you with traction are stored away. The Painter put your bed in the storage room and washed your food and water … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Mary Oliver
The way the dark-to-light green concentric curves of artichokes, halved, look on the wooden cutting board. The way the round radishes, sliced thin, fan out on top of the slices of blood oranges in the white serving dish. The way baking powder biscuits can be a love letter if you cut them out with a … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Ada Limon
Once, a long time ago, I went to a jumprope exhibition in the gym of a middle school. There were teams of tandem jumpers, rope dancers, and synchronized twirling. The students had practiced for many weeks prior to the exhibition. This was back in the days of big VHS camcorders, and I had one on … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by David Kirby
Goodies from my mailbox and camera
Telling all sides of the parenting story
Waking Up to Your Dreams
On James Baldwin and Diverse Literature
Putting those recalcitrant toddler cancer cells to bed...
your own PDK for writing
a collection of beautiful words.....
Objects, Memory and Meaning
If it can't be said in a hundred words, then it can't be said in a thousand.
sewing a handmade wardrobe
"drink from the well of your self and begin again" ~charles bukowski
Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.
Thoughts on the world around me
the literary asylum
