Q: Does writing about hard things ever make you agitated and upset, so that you have to walk away from the writing and regain your equilibrium? A: Nope. Life is what’s hard. Writing is always solace. This exchange took place in a university undergraduate creative writing class a couple of weeks ago. Writing is how … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Tony Hoagland
A few years ago I sat in a crowded auditorium listening to a speaker lecture on a topic I don’t remember. What I do remember is that fifteen minutes into his lecture, he was interrupted by an audience member who jumped to his feet and, under the guise of asking a question, began to harangue … Continue reading Excuse me
Long ago I left behind the simple prayers of my childhood, the ones spoken in unison with others in church, or around the table at a special meal when everyone named something they were thankful for. I’ve never known what God is, and I don’t know what God is to others. If forced to come … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Keetje Kuipers
Me to a roomful of high school students last week: “Raise a hand if you’ve lost someone you love to murder.” Every hand went up. Every hand. At least that’s how it looked to me, standing there. How do you make your way through something impossibly hard? That was the premise of our conversation, and the … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Olav Hauge
If home is defined as the place where you don’t have to think –you can just be— then you can find home not just in a place but a person. I believe in love at first sight –it’s happened to me–and I also believe in recognition at first sight. Sometimes they’re the same thing. A knowing. … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Tim Seibles
Picture the scene: Me arriving home to find my youngest plopped on the couch happily watching tv alone, surrounded by her stuffed animals, blankie, and an assortment of the pretzels and crackers that at the time comprised most of her body weight and were the reason my nickname for her was Dry Salty Crunchy Carbohydrate. Me, … Continue reading Dear Sister, the backstory
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
“My mother is a poem I’ll never be able to write, though everything I write is a poem to my mother.” ~ Sharon Doubiago
The Good Things Black People Do, Give and Receive All Over The World
Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.
Thoughts on the world around me
the literary asylum
Bipolar is my superpower
