Archive for the ‘ Creative Writing ’ Category
Quinn and I spent some time at Waterstreet today in an effort to escape the smoke of Fourth Coast (since I’m quitting and Q just got his wisdom teeth out). While we were sitting there talking, Q challenged me to a writing exercise. We each wrote a villanelle and shared them. Here’s mine: For the woman [ READ MORE ]
Long tubes of air colored pink to orange to twinkling licking water, tasting with neon ends. Carpets of coral like a discarded bath mat hanging off the side of rock soft and short like babies toes. I am outside of these, filled with dissonance. I, quiet on the couch with legs crossed and eyelids half lifted, am watching outsiders that the [ READ MORE ]
There is a fine line and I am perched in 2D I have dug a hole into you - pawed quietly at your side purring in your ear like the sweetest kitten until you are rubbed raw and bleeding - but smiling for it. I have burrowed into your side tucked away between armsandstomachs quietly aware I have made a home here nestled between I love you I need [ READ MORE ]
Boston; July 12, 2012 I want to take you to the beach and watch the sun rise (the ocean-beach) We’ll drink mimosas with too much champagne hold hands I will give you only one flower, but it will be in a pot still because I cannot bear to snip one from the ground. I will sing a song I wrote for you pretend to [ READ MORE ]
Remember the time i held your hand and we ignored the camera I want to stay forever in the fishbowl where Robert swims with electric fins and the yellow one races back and forth (the twins are boyandgirl but I don’t know that) Our bubble eyes are covered in film: ‘There is a diver’ you say in a dream I peer - brown blends [ READ MORE ]
In learning to perfect the art of sliding my arm from under your sleeping head Five inches is the perfect width to leave the door cracked open: Any more and you will smell the coffee too soon. I must remember to find a rug to muffle the noise of that third creaky step: Something gray to match the light I told you [ READ MORE ]
I Pretend I Am A Writer I do not write poetry. I find it unbearable impossible egotistical to think that I can defy form function and put into simple words the enormity of feeling, the intense emotion that I experience - when I stroke the side of your face and your eyes dance beneath their lids and the corners of your smile twitch and tickle (and tremble, your whole body) while [ READ MORE ]
An ode to best friends and the ones who fix us Today I am mom, with my arms around you. I bake you cookies because I see there is no other way to make you happy (except by distraction) At the store, I play a game - I put my arms around you from behind skip down the aisle (next to the wrinkled [ READ MORE ]
Chris Bathgate is Playing on the Sound System There is grayspace behind the trees. I’ve been sitting in the corner booth listening to music you gave me (reminding me of a show I went to without you) I sat behind you and her and everyone watching I called myself an interloper There was such intense longing with no chance of fulfillment then the show was beautiful [ READ MORE ]
Avoidant. Vulnerable. Afraid. Exposed. Anxious. Restless. Torn. Hopeful, but distant and sad. I try to quantify the person I once was, before you knew me. I’ve been talking about it more and more lately, attempting to rectify the differences between the past me and the present me. I analyze the differences, see the reasons behind the avoidance [ READ MORE ]