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.
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 →
Hello all, This is a quick note to you, wonderful follower of The Poetry of Things blog. I have recently graduated from university with a degree in creative writing. This shift in my life has caused a shift in this blog: we're changing here, growing. The Poetry of Things will no longer provide prompts, but... Continue Reading →
WHEN I THINK OF YOU, I think of trampled things. Leaves crunched underfoot, wrinkled red balloon tethered up in spruce. Two heart strings plucked raw and burning at the bottom of the lake. Four hard-knock shivers down the spine, cracked open aortic valves spewing out that then and this now, four silver bolts tracking down... Continue Reading →