Rules for writing a pantoum: Quatrains (stanzas with four lines) Infinite number of stanzas The second and fourth line are repeated as the first and third line in the next stanza In the last stanza, the second and fourth line are the third and first line of the first stanza, respectively AKA your first line […]
Well…is there a right way to cope with loss? When my brother smiled, his eyes looked like the seagulls I drew when we were children. Thin, crescent curves, I drew them like m’s, out of the charcoal Dad would bring from the station. My brother would tell me how boring I was, sitting at home, coloring. […]
There’s something ironic about studying reforms – action and progress – while sitting still for hours, shoulders hunched over a screen. Sitting Inert, Studying a Movement Twelve thirty in the morning meant a forty-two-page citation spree on the Leipzig disputation between the great Martin Luther and his rival, Johann Eck. She had a struggle of […]
The abuser will always soften the situation, romanticizing the victim’s pain, her brokenness, and in some cases, her death. Then, he’ll blame himself. And hearing his remorse, the crowd will sympathize, nodding their heads in agreement, “Yes, she did deserve better. She was a beautiful girl, inside and out.” And they will forget how ugly […]
It’s hard not to blame yourself, especially when you’re the one that chose to stay. But it’s not your fault. This one’s a little different than my usual free-verse. This particular form is called a villanelle. It’s a poetic form that follows a few rules: 19 lines: five tercets (stanza with three lines), ending with […]
Louder in the Silence – Ancient Rabbis believed the Bible was written in black fire and white fire. Black fire came from words on the page; God would flow through ink and speech to reach His people. I regarded the gift of tongues as the highest blessing God could bestow; the ability to speak the […]
Stuck in a Suburban Coffe Shop – Maria, my boss at our local coffee shop was fifty-five and working forty hours a week, never losing that Brazilian pep in her hips or her feet. She was nine, coming to America and didn’t think she’d still be here after forty-six years, working just one pay grade […]
