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I’m a writer, artist and designer who thinks way too much, and tries to see the beauty in the world.

Tag: #poetry

  • Vibrations

    Vibrations I read today that four hundred forty beats per second equals the note called “A” I thought of you, of resonance, of tiny ear bones trembling with words of the resounding delight of being heard How the word ‘vibrant’ rings like a bell of poured molten bronze, cast cast like a spell, pure magic…

  • Falling

    I am a leaf, falling, surrendering, I will not cling, like a mitten on a clip— No, I’ll flutter like a bird float through this dizzy blue forever fall freely letting go, or winter will never come and if winter never comes spring will never bloom I am a leaf, falling.

  • Spellbound

    My poor feet cannot stop bewitched, like in a fairytale, cursed: they cannot stop, so I walk and walk and walk as if my head is no longer in charge as if my heart might burst from beating and beating and beating This golden hour: cresting the hill breathing molten light and air electric between…

  • October

    Awash in gold, in crimson, lost October whispers my name — softly sings it, sleepily dreams it Alas, winter spins her frosty lace warm-cool shivers feather my spine— amber-frozen forever Our sighs paisley the morning air now October slips, pink-cheeked. Slides headlong through slick leaves: damp, brown— fallen, down

  • Tell me a story

    Tell me a story You say, and I begin again. The beginning, always my favorite part sweet on my tongue, fleeting But I am ever hopeful digging now for middles and ends that are deeper and darker And boiling with life, like the depths of a sea where lampreys sway like seaweed, and dance In…

  • Cicadas

    Cicadas Their maracas shake in dark trees: even indoors, windows closed, fans on: they thrum, thrum, a constant presence, insect-induced tinnitus I like their cascading drone, insistent announcement—we live! Humans, greedier than any insect, haven’t killed them off, not yet, unlike the passenger pigeons, once so plentiful flocks of them darkened the daytime skies for…

  • an old poem, revised

    The universal donor develops a taste for blood What if I closed my eyes right now, accelerated hard Just waited for the impact, the pain, the wailing sirens “She lost control on the Norwood Lateral,” they’d say. “Nearly bled to death.” Or what if I lost control, of myself, In produce between the melons and…

  • Indiana University Writer’s Conference, June 2014

    I’m just back from an amazing week in Bloomington, Indiana, where I attended the IU Writer’s Conference—for anyone considering this conference in the future, I’d highly recommend it. Come well-rested—you’ll be too inspired to sleep much. Teachers included the amazing Jim Elledge, who just won a Lambda award for creative non-fiction; Christine Sneed, inspiring master…