I have been writing and creating for as long as I could hold a pencil in my hand. Before that, I dictated stories to my mother.
Words have the power of enchanting us and casting a magic spell on even the most cynical. They can transform the mundane into extraordinary.
This is where I muddle through the strangeness and create beauty.
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Pierce a vein and watch calligraphy spill on the page. India ink replaces deoxygenated blood. My heart starves for the passion the stars contain. My heart is empty except for the galaxies that glimmer inside of aortas and dwell in ventricles. I have spent lifetimes hiding behind the gauzy veil of metaphors and similes. I … Continue reading The Fragility of a Tornado: a Free Write
Please don’t read if you are hemophobic (afraid of blood). I was the contestant on a reality show, and all the women were stripped down naked, led to showers. When the shower heads turned on, blood sprayed from the spigots and I swallowed some. I slipped and fell in it, blood coating one side of … Continue reading Dream #4 (a Nightmare)
I don’t know how to tell you this. It’s not like you’d believe me or anything. I once was, and before that, I was not. If I told you I remembered the moment I was formed, you’d call me a liar, and I am anything but. A whooshing sound like a strong wind gusted over … Continue reading Eden: a Myth
When I was young, perhaps eleven or twelve, I read the poem “Silence” by Marianne Moore. It was right around the time that I had started to explore my own poetry and craft my own metaphors. I remember the phrase “the glass flowers at Harvard” sticking out to me in a beautiful way. At the … Continue reading Home
