
Cat Black Coffee
I have always been a thinker, an analyzer, a dreamer, a ruminator. Perhaps you can relate! Continue reading Cat Black Coffee
I have always been a thinker, an analyzer, a dreamer, a ruminator. Perhaps you can relate! Continue reading Cat Black Coffee
Having spent much of my adult life as a teacher (and all of my childhood as a student), I tend to measure time in school-years. Continue reading Another Year Done (Two Poems for the End of the School Year)
There are those who fly and those who crawl. There are those who imagine futures beyond the curvature of a horizon and those who don’t. Continue reading How to be a Butterfly – A Step by Step Guide
Far too often we approach our days with drudgery – a series of mundane tasks that need to be slogged through in order to reach the sweet spot of pajamas and slumber (often prefaced by a glass or two of wine). Continue reading Sense of Urgency! [Living your best life]
As I sink into my couch, inert and irritable once again, I read, over and over, this poem I wrote a few days ago. I know the words are trying to tell me something, but whatever-it-is keeps swirling out of reach. Continue reading Feet & Frontal Lobe: We are Capable of More than We Think
What will YOU bring to life this year?? Continue reading New Year, New Beginnings
As I prepare for the release of my first book of collected poetry, I feel the tension between the tenderness of my own creativity and my aching, egoic need to be seen. Continue reading Trust the Poem
Sometimes a poem wakes you up in the middle of the night. Like a baby kicking, it’s inside you, dancing with its own consciousness, until you must throw open your eyes and acknowledge its existence. Continue reading The Healing Power of the Poem
For me, poetry has the power to heal, to transform. It is how I shake out the cobwebs of past shame and through open the curtains to shine light upon my darkness. Continue reading Writing to Heal and Finding My Breath
I have been scrambled lately. My lengthy To-Do lists and filmy future-dreams are whisked together into a froth inside my brain. Continue reading Hesitation Point