Tag Archives: poetry

It’s not about us


The neat square of sunlight in their front yard was all the sisters needed to enjoy the false spring day. The younger girl sprawled on a blue beach towel, her head bent over the pages of her chapter book, a … Continue reading

Posted in My posts | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Feeling the heartbeat


Ron Rash told the Charlotte Observer recently that a first draft is like “an ugly glob of clay on a wheel.” It is an apt metaphor. The best writers discard the unnecessary bits. They use imagery, actions and dramatic tension … Continue reading

Posted in My posts | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Practice makes better


With the insecurities, easily hurt feelings and sense of not belonging, middle school is still the stuff of nightmares. Yet, much as we might want to have avoided those years, middle school experiences are rough drafts for later life. Fortunately, … Continue reading

Posted in My posts | Tagged , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Departure


Dark clouds on my horizon creep in with summer’s heat. Weighing me down, making me sluggish, Like July’s humidity.   Encompassing blackness looms inexorably closer. Dragging my soul, consuming my thoughts, As oppressive as August.   Hatless officers sowed seeds … Continue reading

Posted in My posts, Random writings | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

Feast of words


I love the sensory sensuality of words. All those anticipatory Ts standing at parade rest in attentive. That D bumping into the G in nudge. Euphoria just dares those outnumbered consonants to hold down its vowels. And there’s something inherently … Continue reading

Posted in My posts | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

In defense of failure


The author of a recent New York Times opinion piece postulated that writers are “the real professionals” when it comes to failure. To support his premise, Stephen Merche ticks off writers such as Fitz-Greene Halleck, widely praised in their own … Continue reading

Posted in My posts | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

On fire


I faced the room of orange jumpsuits. We began where we had left off a week earlier, by composing a landay, the two-line poem of nine and 13 syllables favored by Afghan Pashtuns. Actually, three class members began where we … Continue reading

Posted in My posts | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment