The fog was cloud-thick as the man and his dog ventured out into oblivion. You couldn’t see the cars, but the hiss as they passed by found them in the field. Honking shadows glided down from the sky, their scattered calls organizing a shrouded gathering.
Continue reading “Morning Fog in the Soccer Field, 2022”
I’m beginning a project called Picture Poems. Simply put, it’s a way to collect, gather, and present small groups of images.
Picture Poems is inspired by an assignment I struggled with when I was in college. The assignment was to make a single image that acted as a poem.* I’m pretty sure I failed miserably, but then again, I never was a good student. Since then, I’ve constantly been striving to discover the poetic elements and potential of images. Is it possible to make an image that feels wet, not merely by showing something that is wet? How about softness or delicacy? Is it an image of a light touch on the arm? Or is it an image of something the viewer knows the sensation of? Can images convey the same meanings if they don’t show anything easily identifiable?
Continue reading “Introducing Picture Poems: #1 Young Meadow”I’ve been back in New Jersey for over three weeks now. Of course, I miss New Orleans. I miss the new friends I made while I was there. The friends I’ve had to check in with after the news of yesterday’s tornado. As someone who prefers calm, I miss the energy. As someone who prefers quiet, I miss the noise. As someone who prefers the fresh air of nature, I even miss the onslaught of questionable aromas wafting about me. I miss the food.
Continue reading “Wed. 23 March 2022 – New Orleans”I’ve labeled this poem a first draft, because it is. It appears here as it was written when it was thought and without edits. I’ve included context for it, as well as some personal notes written to myself. In the grand scheme of things, this is perhaps infinitely insignificant. Still, it is a glimpse of the thought process that goes into writing a poem, albeit not one that was worked on for very long, over the course of days, weeks, or more. From the initial idea to the saved document was less than fifteen minutes, perhaps disrespectfully short. But it is a beginning to something, maybe. Or an example of what not to do.
Continue reading “26 Feb. 2022 – Good Luck [Poem – 1st draft]”