BrokenEchoes

I didn't write much of anything this week, not even in my journal. It has been a busy week, sure, but that isn't the reason. I always have a notebook in my pocket, so I could steal a moment here or there to write down anything noteworthy--anything that could be tugged at, stretched, manipulated and turned into an idea, a theme, or a poem. I didn't find anything to be worthy of writing down. My days were filled with mundane, repetitive, disinterest. Some days are like this. Some times they group together into larger masses. Sometimes they stand in the way for far too long.  As we finish the week, we also finish the month. Tomorrow begins the bright month of June, and I hope to progress my next poetry collection to publication readiness. I hope to continue these weekly blog posts, and the biweekly newsletters (subscribe here).   I am currently listening to " The Handmaids Tale " by Margaret Atwood during my commutes. It has been a compelling story so far, and the na...

Today slipped through my fingers. I had plans—put this blog post together early, maybe sit on the front porch and read a bit, then put together some poetry submissions—but instead, I found myself getting lost in practicing on my new wood lathe for a couple of hours and then mowing the lawn. Some days are like that: other interests can sometimes take over. I’m okay with that. This week was a slow one for writing. I managed put some notes together about a short story I have been tinkering with. I have a very loose goal of writing everyday, but I don't force it. If I can't write, I edit. If I can't edit, I read. Maybe I will get to those submissions tomorrow. Revisiting my poem "Commander" brought a wave of introspection. Written from the perspective of an unprepared leader thrust into responsibility, it mirrors feelings of inadequacy and the weight of expectations. The lines: "I am the commander of these troops I put on a face of calm strength Of confiden...

This week, I found myself staring into the past—and it stared right back. After pouring out fresh words during the NAPOWRIMO challenge in April, I shifted gears to revisit something old: a tattered notebook filled with poems I wrote over twenty years ago. As I work through the pages of that ancient text, I am surprised to find how my voice has changed. The themes and subjects are unchanged, but I feel that the voice of my poems has evolved. My early poems are raw, bursting with unfiltered emotion—sometimes chaotic, sometimes clumsy. Today’s voice feels different: more deliberate, like a stew that’s had time to simmer. Seasoned, in more ways than one. Both sets of words are important to me, and they both will be represented in my upcoming collections.  Even as my voice has matured, the themes remain hauntingly familiar—loneliness, doubt, the sense of never quite belonging. It’s sobering to realize I’ve been carrying these same emotional burdens for decades. That enduring struggle in...

A few weeks ago, I wrote a poem as part of my National Poetry Writers Month challenge. (You can read it here .) The inspiration behind it was a recurring situation I face—something that isn’t my responsibility, something I didn’t initiate, but something that still has the power to impact me emotionally. It’s a scenario that feels all too familiar. The kind that weighs on you, shifts your mood, and leaves you wondering if things will ever change. For me, it felt like one of those time loop episodes you see in science fiction shows or movies—where the protagonist keeps reliving the same day or moment, but the catch is, they remember the past loops. They can learn, adapt, and choose a different path, right? But what if that wasn’t the case? What if, no matter how many times you relived it, the outcome stayed the same? What if there was no escape, no alternate choices, and no relief? That was the feeling I tried to capture in the poem—the pain of repetition, the hopelessness of facing the ...

For a long time, this blog has been a place where I’ve shared my poetry. You’ve seen my words presented as visual poems, each one paired with an aesthetic image to enhance the feeling of the piece. It’s been a beautiful way to showcase my work and connect with you, my readers. However, as I’ve evolved in my writing, I felt it was time to shift the focus of this space a bit. A New Chapter for My Blog Starting today, I’ll be incorporating more than just poems. You’ll still find my poems here, of course, but now you’ll also see reflections on the writing process, discussions about poetry, and resources for writing and publishing. Poetry has always been a deeply personal practice for me, and I hope that by sharing more about how it’s helped me, I can encourage others to find their own creative outlets. What You Can Expect This Month Throughout Mental Health Awareness Month, I’ll be posting new poems alongside stories and insights about how writing has been a form of emotional release f...

  We field commanders are due at to meet in one month’s time There is a summit to share news, wins and losses To form and adjust strategies I have little to report My small, distant land is poor Our warriors are weak or old or both We don’t have the helms, swords, or shields we need We don’t have the skills to craft them, or gold to buy them. These are strong loyal men Who will defend this land to their last breath But many have never held a weapon And none have been trained I myself am a cook I’m meant to feed men, not lead them I fell into this commander role  At the death of my predecessor I’ve been stumbling ever since I am the commander of these troops I put on a face of calm strength Of confidence and impending victory At the summit, I am the least of many The commander of a tiny remote territory Ignored or forgotten Along with my homeland Along with my people I am failing them I don’t have the skills or knowledge I need There is no one to pass this burden to We will los...

  A mountain, tall and strong Rises up between where I am now And where I need to be That is OK. I have climbed mountains before I’ll climb this one too I won’t be stopped I will get there from here I’ve come too far,  Crossed too many rivers, Survived too many battles, Endured too many miles To fail here I yearn to reach my destination For this long terrible journey to be complete I hope I don’t have to wait much longer.