So stoked to share that I’ve accepted a freelance blogging gig at Read Poetry, an online community that celebrates poetry as a form of expression, activism, & self-care.
My first article shares 4 poetry prompts to support self-care and mental wellbeing. Check it out on readpoetry.com, and be sure to subscribe to their blog to get future articles from myself and the rest of the Read Poetry blogging team!
Are we vehicles
to propagate
nucleic acids,
or scaffolding
for feet that they
might erode the
topsoil, create
riverbeds, canyons,
or are we a chassis
for lungs that exhale
and push air and
move butterflies
effectively?
Having yesterday leftovers
today. I don’t feel meant
for the moment. Glances
and hollow helloes in the
back of the fridge, mossy.
Tough stuff thrown into
pot luck for simmering.
Achievements seem wilted.
We can always microwave.
Nutrition negligible. Chow
now, somehow.
I’m wearing sleeves
on my insides. All the
uncool kids are
internalizing shirts,
and well-dressed
emotions with
pocket squares
are nominated
for awards. They
like them. They
really really
like them. And
the award goes to
How is it possible to
have writers block?
I’ve been trying to
stop the words for
years. Nasty, insidious
things.
Oh I closed my mind,
but they bribed the
doorman. More like
I’m in the elevator
and words want
to talk. “How’s
yer day?”, they
ask. I’m jabbing
L, repeatedly.
Then <>
.
Hold callus in your hand.
Catch abrasions on knees.
Prepare skin for laceration.
When it comes, cradle it.
Gaping wounds don’t appear
overnight. Reassure it, aside
from the callous of the world,
it will always have a home
with you, as it weeps.
We can numb it with
ice. It might take time.
But o’clock we’ve got.
And at absolute zero,
frozen stares and
charges flow in pairs,
with even the halting
halted on stairs, and
hate might as well
be a popsicle stand
and it’s loving
standing still,
by the way.