Tag archive: poetry
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 »
"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 »
Txt Msg
Sometimes this is how I feel. Also, I never text like this. — Txt Msg God, why ddnt u answer my txt? I sent it ystrdy at 2 pm rght aftr I rolld out of sin It said help me… continue reading »
Unsaid
Some things are better left unsaid. V. “Talk to me,” he says, caressing her hand and fondling the wrinkles of her numb fingers. She says, “I’m fine.” Not that he asked. They walk with naked stares into the night. She… continue reading »
Future/Present poem
I bought an e.e. cummings poetry book: this is what resulted. (Okay, this hardly exemplifies my admiration for cummings, but I did split a word between two lines.) Also, it’s fiction. Geez. Also, also: three syllable lines!! IV.Dear futurehusband, Iam… continue reading »
Grace grows in winter
Grace doesn’t grow in the springtime. Grace grows in the winter, when everything’s dead, when life is the brown sludge beneath your rubber boots. It comes as a surprise. We talk about life as having seasons. In the spring, life… continue reading »
one by one by one by one
3.Late Novemberand God is deadlike the maple trees and the leaves falling out of them. You did itwith a handful of the foliage of God, yanking leavesone by one by one by one—just so you know he’s gone:he’s dead. God… continue reading »
and green and green and green …
II.Late Octoberand the Norway maple hasn’t turnedred or orange or whatever colorNorway maples turn. Todayand tomorrow:an endless cycle of greenand green and greenand green and green. Through the windowthe masochistsslit their wrists,crying but with bliss. — Author’s note: “Things that cause… continue reading »