-
Inheritance
I wrote this poem for a project about bodies and vulnerability. You can learn more about this project in the post “The Self in Study.” View this post on Instagram A post shared by Etched in Bark (@etchedbark) on Jan 13, 2019 at 11:55am PST The main inspiration was genetic inheritance. My dad was in the middle of his treatment for leukemia at the time and I was reflecting on the amount of cancer that occurs in my family. I’m sharing this poem with you as I return to my family home for the first time since my dad passed away a year ago.
-
New Air Nips
This poem was originally supposed to be a haiku. It wasn’t until I hit publish that I noticed the formatting had changed. Whoops!
-
From the top of the world
The juxtaposition of “from the top of the world” and looking up at something taller makes me a bit dizzy. I think it really hits on the point that even when we feel big, grand, and strong we are still just an ant in the grand scheme of things.
-
Breathe(ing
I started an Instagram account to explore the connection between word and image that I began on Sitting in the Stacks. I’ve always been interested in possibly publishing a book of poetry that is paired or placed on top of my photography. Etched in Bark is where I’m testing out this dream.
-
Sounds of the Soul
The sounds of the world are an untuned orchestra — a crying baby clashing with the hum of a bee’s wings. Just as crashing cymbals jar the soothing purr of an oboe. How does a crashing wave rhythmically coasting across the sand accompany the honks of a NYC cab? To the ear — the sounds of the world are a cacophony. To the soul — the sounds of the world are in harmony. – Inspired by reading Lit by Mary Karr. *Featured image credit to cbmd on Flickr.
-
Philosophizing Smiles
The evening breeze cooled my sticky, sweat soaked skin as I swatted at the mosquitos in search of a meal. A welcomed chill ran up my spine as I glanced up at the summer stars above the rickety, wooden balcony that provided me a seat. The boy across from me rearranged the cement block he rested on, catching my attention. I breathed in the smell of salt and dirt coming from his sun-stained and tired body. A smirk crept across my lips as I watched his muscles tense and release in an effort to find comfort sitting on cement.