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I once read “A loss is a loss” And now those words Ring true and pure When I think about What I have lost. It was not just A place to go A thing to do. I have not lost A calendar item An hour from my day An appointment On an endless agenda. I
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I can feel two things at once: Grateful for how you held me close, Infuriated for how you pushed me away; Joyful for the time we shared together, Devastated for how those times have ended; Empathy for what you must be going through, Wounded by the wedge you drove between us; Hopeful to be made
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“We’ve identified issues with your Temperament and demeanor” Are code words for the sexism That brands women’s anger and calls for fairness And justice As signs of disobedience. The policing of women’s words And women’s actions And women’s tears And women’s rage And women’s bodies And women’s spirits Affirms the oft unspoken desire Of our
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In 2022, my friend Issa Brown peer pressured me into publishing a book of poetry with the phrase, “If you ever write a poetry book, I’ll illustrate it for you.” Okay, girl. Twist my arm, why don’t you? The results of our efforts was the short collection of poetry titled “The Circle,” a book which
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Oh, to be a mediocre man Who praises himself for nothing that’s particularly special Like, inheriting his skin and his name, Or riding the coat tails of his father’s successful Disregard of those who didn’t match himself. Oh, to feel the superiority he feels Though he probably hasn’t worked as hard as Any woman in
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I knew the moment that King Eadwig died. I woke in the night with a sigh escaping me, as my heart felt faint. I felt him close his eyes just as mine opened. There was no one wail for him. Not yet. “Osburga,” I whispered. She stirred next to me. “Osburga, he’s dead.” She didn’t
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I lived with Osburga until the season started to turn, and the cold set in, the mornings frosty and the evenings holding a chill that crept into my bones. I had seen my father once, his eyes understanding, even if he was sad. He knew he couldn’t protect me. Only another woman like me had
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This post was originally published on August 12th, 2023. I often think of Judas on Good Friday, since he is a key figure in the Passion narrative. And really, without a betrayal, would the story of Jesus’ arrest and execution be as painful? Betrayal is one of the worst kinds of interpersonal wrongs; it is
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During Lent, I’ll be writing six hymns that capture the spirit of reflection for the season. I will publish them on Sunday mornings. All the hymns will be set to well known tunes, so they will be easily shareable and singable upon reading. Hymn 6 is titled Sing, Sing My Heart and can be sung
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Osburga wasted no time with me. As soon as the offer to teach me bewitching left her lips, a powerful wind blew through my spirit. I gasped at its bite, the chill of it snaking along my limbs. But I held Osburga’s eyes until it passed. She seemed pleased with my tolerance and my stoicism.
The Quick and the Dead
Short stories. Creative experiments. Ideas that might not pan out.
The Quick and the Dead 