I wrote this during NaPoWriMo this past spring. It’s probably one of my favorites. =) Where have you come from, child of stars? What power glows in that beating heart? What far-off sun do you call home? What songs are coursing in your bones? Why do you wander here, lost …
Hard to believe it’s the last week–last day, actually–of this year’s NaPoWriMo. It always goes by so fast. I’ve grown up in Florida, but it feels like I’m just now beginning to appreciate the beauty that is my state. And as much as I can’t wait to go to school …
I was very conflicted on which poem to post this week. Honestly, most of what I wrote wasn’t that great, or else not something I’d ever share. The business of writers is words; but words need to have something behind them. You can’t just write for the sake of “being …
I was lying awake last night when I suddenly realized I never posted anything on Monday. This shall now be remedied, albeit two days late. did you forget what the stars look like from here? caught in the hastening blur and the glare of rushing headlights, bending so hard, so …
I’m currently at my grandparents’, enjoying the peace and quiet of no internet or social media (or young people… haha). But I’m stealing a few minutes of wifi because I do want to do a weekly post for NaPo this month. If you’re wondering what’s going on, National Poetry Writing …
This is one of those poems that comes out of my unofficial position as family poet. We had an event at our house the other night, and my parents wanted a poem for it. I decided to write it in the style of a John Piper Advent poem. Like most …
For some reason I often get minor cuts and things – not serious, but just enough to draw blood. Mostly they’re on my hands (it doesn’t help that I wash my hands all the time at work, so they get dry and cracked). A few months ago I wrote this …
04/31/2017 (from the last day of NaPoWriMo; inspired by this post and my pastor’s sermon in Luke 13) fire licking, biting, roaring and consuming dreams and all the burning desires of your soul in a catastrophic symphony of destruction (ruby-colored, blood-colored flames) water dripping, trickling streaming and pouring a river …
When you were little, weren’t helium balloons the best thing ever? When we’d go to one particular restaurant, they’d always give us balloons; I remember being so excited, but I also remember one time when I let go by accident and it floated away, up into a big cellphone tower …
I can’t really decide if I’m a morning person or a night owl. Or maybe both. Or neither. At any rate, most of my poetry this past week was written at 11:00 p.m. or later, when I was just desperate to write something before bed. So I ended up with a …
