I crave to make her memory matter as time changes and continues. Because she stole the spotlight in my heart. Because she proved a unicorn does exist in heaven.
Category: Art
You Will Have to Make Omelets Again
Corrie had a way of bringing out the artist in me. She had a way of opening me up when I had closed myself away from so many due to trust issues I’d developed through the years. In fact, if people wanted to see my real personality, I encouraged them to come to my classroom.… Continue reading You Will Have to Make Omelets Again
The Evolution of a Writer
I'm fine with writing though because it doesn't lie to your face or just disappear.
Meet Your Writing Goal: Enter a Competition
Enter a competition. I encourage you to do it. It's been a hot minute since I did a contest. Although I've left my four blogs untouched for the last two weeks due to renovation and, you know, an active life; I've been more active writing this summer than in previous years. I allowed my career to run… Continue reading Meet Your Writing Goal: Enter a Competition
Craft a Smaller Collection from your Longer Chapbook
Poetry's dead, man. No one wants to read it. Chill. I'm kidding. I don't know. Some people may argue poetry, like rock-n-roll, is dead; on it's way to a recycle or scrap yard like newspapers. As an poet alone, the truth remains--unless by some magical knowledge you know of and I don't--that books of poetry rarely sale. … Continue reading Craft a Smaller Collection from your Longer Chapbook
Walk Along the Beach, a poem
I reach for your hand to walk along the beach. White sand between toes can be twenty instead of ten I reach for your hand, but you turn away to look at orange streaks of sky. Small fires reflect in your eyes. Sometimes I see the mountain shades of the blue of Blueridge September skies… Continue reading Walk Along the Beach, a poem
Make Your Poetry Ugly Beautiful
Do what? Poetry. Who needs it? It does not sale in the market if you're looking to make money. For people who read, poetry seems to cause emotions almost as extreme as politics. They either like or they don't. My husband has hated poetry most of his life, but claims I am bringing him around… Continue reading Make Your Poetry Ugly Beautiful
God Left Green Street, a poem
I saw them gather at the church. I did not join them there. God left Green Street on a day in April when black-gray clouds intersected. A fight on the street, or in the school, the boy will meet you there because God grabbed his hat and coat. He left the kids of Green Street.… Continue reading God Left Green Street, a poem
I Would Not See, a poem dedicated to my co-workers
I took one last walk down the hall. My husband waited for me there. I could believe I would not see Your eyes drop down at the ground, or you smile through clenched teeth to say, "One day more." I waited for this day to come, and when it did, I smiled wide until I… Continue reading I Would Not See, a poem dedicated to my co-workers
Writing about Goodbye
Poetry contains photographs. Old school poetry didn’t interest me much, but when introduced to early twentieth century poets, my world changed. Poems didn’t have to rhyme. Lines could break. You could paint with words or create pictures through the placement of words. In my last blog, I wrote about how we, as writers and teachers,… Continue reading Writing about Goodbye
Corrie's Season 