Category: poetry

therapy in words

When I was in my teens, I wrote poetry daily. Granted, most of it sucked. I was a very different person back then and my exposure to the world was limited to small-town upstate New York and my very religious mind-frame. But, that isn’t the point. The point was in the joy of just writing

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life, writing, and muddling through

It feels trivial somehow to talk about the mundane aspects of a mundane life when around the world people are suffering and dying in zones of war, bombs falling from the sky, buildings reduced to rubble and scared populations huddle in the dark or flee desperately to foreign lands. At the same time, for those

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nesting

I have arrived at my favorite part of moving: the nesting phase. There is something satisfying about finding new homes for your things and settling into the new routine. This house has more storage space than the old one, and an extra bedroom that will likely become the craft room. There is also an extra

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sunshine and kindness

August is something of a transition month for me. When I lived in Upstate New York as a kid, it had this impending feeling of autumn, but with the heat and free spirit of summer. Corn of the cob and macaroni salads filled picnic tables, kids splashed about in Lake Ontario, and trees were just

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…for the love of words…

I love words. I love long words, short words, weird words. I love unusual words and common words. I love combinations of words that absolutely, perfectly describe something or someone. I love twisting words around until they come out just right. I’ve been drawn to words and how we use them to communicate since I

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tear stained alleys and sun drenched fields

Sometimes, when I feel stuck working on a book, I’ll sidestep to a short story or some poetry. Sometimes into one of the other books in some state of written languishing on my hard drive. This last week, I’ve been wading into the poetry waters again. I have a deep and abiding love for poetry.

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