Welcome to The Poetry of Things, a blog dedicated to creating and sharing specific, image-based nonfiction writing. Here, vocabulary and an acute awareness of surroundings and of self ride themselves out on the page.
Hi all, it’s been awhile! I hope each and every one of you have found ways to continue your writing practice through the current global crisis. Just before this all began, I came up with the idea to keep a tiny little journal on my person at all times, filling it with things I noticed... Continue Reading →
Hello female wordpressers. I'm currently working on a creative nonfiction piece called "Sartorial," which blends the history of women's garments, language from the "Home Economics" textbooks of the 1980's, and true stories of what women were wearing when they were sexually assaulted. Through the weaving of these sources, "Sartorial" aims to negate and deconstruct current... Continue Reading →
Liguria is all small yellow love affairs sand between sun burnt fingers, hair heavy with the sea. Liguria is the way ragazzi glance at you—drink you up, unsugared cappuccino, quick sip at the cafe counter before leaving the city for fields, the dust sun, tan lines around their necks.
The day after tomorrow, my best girlfriend and I depart on the European adventure we've been planning since we met. Five weeks, five countries: Ireland, France, Spain, Portugal, Italy. We are incredibly excited and it's her first time--I can't wait to see her move through culture shock. I'll be journaling and attempting to share some... Continue Reading →
We wrap our arms around one another like yesterday's dry seaweed on little weathered sticks. We give way to each other like salt sand crumbling. Guilt, bittersweet briny blue, laps at our chests like waves we cannot stop.
In the hot-garbage haze of a New York summer, a woman in powder blue chiffon shifts against a floral sheet. Sweat tingles down her temple, red fingernails itch the reachable space between freckles on her lower back. It isn't easy for her to fall sleep: the weight of her husband's hand on her hip pressures... Continue Reading →
I am coming to a crossroads in my life. In too few days, I will be moving back home to California from the Pacific North West. I am excited--but the journey is bittersweet. My love is unsure of his next moves: we don't know if he will be joining me there. I am also doing... Continue Reading →
Post college creative writing classes, I am struggling to produce new material. How have you cultivated a daily writing practice? What inspires you to write? Any prompts you can share?
Half malt drunk on moonlit mezcal I drive forty miles north to your door even though I shouldn’t. There is so much guilt laced in the slow-motion bloom of your smirk when you feel me slither in beneath you and lock myself down. Between me and the bear of your body there is ample room... Continue Reading →