Category archives: Poetry

Wishing writing could change me

Sometimes I think my writing can change me. And it always can, but only to a certain extent. I want writing to bring me peace about a situation, but it’s only temporary. I think of my smoking poem from last… continue reading »

Screaming alongside us

Eli, Eli My God, my God, why do I forsake you while I hang on the cross of my screw-you, my hell-no, my let’s-just-get-this-over-with, my it-couldn’t-get-worse-than-this, my lies, my leanings and inclinations toward the better-for-me-worse-for-you? You’re the only one who… continue reading »

Cross-train

So I write a lot — go figure, I’m a writing major. But, I don’t spend a lot of time writing for fun. As outlined in my last Scriptwriting blog post, I do a lot of everything for my classes,… continue reading »

Why I hate when you smoke, a poem

How I hate when you smoke Revised with a new title and everything. A special thanks to Mary Brown. On the rare occasion I want to stand outside with you while you hold and light, inhale and exhale in puffs… continue reading »

Losing, a poem

Losing Sometimes I think I’m a sadist.                 I want change, even if                                 it means losing blood                                                                                 or sanity,                 even if it means                 taking my things back and                                                 leaving or                 telling you how I… continue reading »

Poetry as Therapy pt. I

I’m working on a blog post for Scriptwriting about poetry as a form of therapy, which will go up this weekend, but for right now I thought I’d post an example of that. I hate that Dr. King and IWU… continue reading »

I love you.

I call this a prose poem.  I also call it an apology. — I love you. Okay, now say it with more feeling. I love you? Better, but with more passion this time. I love you? Close, but it’s missing… continue reading »

"Let’s break up," a poem

VII.“Let’s break up,” she saidjust to rile him up. She liked the wayhis eyes turned glossy.If she were luckya tear would ski downhis cheekdodging flags and treescalled frecklesand she could catch it on its final turnon a lower peakbefore the… continue reading »

The Incarnation, a poem

The Incarnation Let’s talk the “Incarnation” because it is a big word for something easy for me to describe: God the baby. God, who has the power to shape-shift, turned himself from a God into a human. Sort of. It’s… continue reading »

Finals interlude

Okay, so I haven’t been inspired to write at all. I’m just trying to get everything finished: finals, classes, papers, projects, etc. So here’s a poem I wrote for creative writing this semester. It’s about — guess who? VI.On his… continue reading »

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