Word Perv
(noun): One who takes delight and is skilled at constructing, writing or saying naughty phrases or dialogue.

I was recently informed my poem Garden will be published in with fall 2015 edition of Welter!


This is the third poem they’ve accepted for publication, having previously published my poems Wishing on Falling Stars and Puerto Rico. I am honored and excited they’ve chosen one of my poems to include in their upcoming publication.

Welter will be hosting a reading on Thursday, 17 December at 7pm in the Bogomolny Room in the University of Baltimore Student Center. I’ll be reading my poem and other contributor’s will be reading also – it’s certain to be a good mix of poetry, fiction, and memoir so come on out!

If you would like a signed copy of Welter, please send me $9 via PayPal (send it as a gift!). Leave me a comment and I’ll contact you to give you my Paypal address and info.


Last night I went to the poetry workshop hosted by Split This Rock. The workshop was hosted by El Jones, Halifax’s Poet Laureate. She started off by performing a few of her poems, including Africville:

After hearing El perform a few of her poems, we got down to business – exercises and then the writing of poems.

The first exercise consisted of pairing up – I paired up with my friend and fellow poet, Jessica – and asking the same three questions, over and over.

The first question was “who are you?” only when asked repeatedly you quickly get beyond the basics. My first response was: “Courtney”, followed quickly by: a poet, a traveler, a runner. From there it got deep. And one point I said, “A crappy daughter” which is when it started getting interesting. The second question was “who were you?” to which I answered, “a farmer’s daughter, a rebellious teenager” and then later “someone who had an emotional affair.” The final question was “who do you want to be?” and to this I answered, “a poet a stranger recognizes – just one stranger!.. a more patient wife, a benefactor to my alma mater…” The whole exercise only took about five minutes but in that time it revealed so much good material!

Shortly after that we wrote a poem. While I’m not ready to share what I wrote as I need to edit it first, but it was about my father and I was really pleased with what I wrote. I was impressed with what everyone wrote that night and I’m already looking forward to the next poetry workshop.

At the end of the night I snapped a picture with El, happy to have heard her work and shared a few hours with her.

El Jones and I

El Jones and I

October 27, 2015

Morning Run

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As most of you know, I’m an avid runner. What many of you may not know is I’ve been sidelined with injuries sustained while trying the devil-that-is-known-as-Crossfit for over two years. I went from running 30+ miles a week, averaging a 7:45-pace to being unable to run even a mile due to severe pain. I went to an ortho knee specialist. I had MRIs and xrays. I went to physical therapy for months. I stretched, I rested, I waited. Nothing helped. NOTHING. I felt like I was going to have to give up running, something I’ve been doing for over twenty years. Something that provides me not only with the physical release I need but the mental and emotional release as well. Running is my meditation, my zen. Finally, a friend recommended a physical therapist he’d been seeing and I went to see her. She had me running pain-free that very first visit. After six weeks of PT she dismissed me. I do daily exercises and I’ve had to completely learn to run again, this time learning to do it properly and correcting all the errors that came as a result of the injury I sustained. I’m up to running 2 miles, three times a week. This is a far cry from the near-daily 5-mile runs and the weekly 10-mile run I would log but I’m happy to be running again and I am slowly building up my endurance. With this return to running has also come the mental release I’ve been missing.

I’ve always preferred running in the morning. I love getting out when the world is still quiet and asleep, when the only other people I see on the trail are fellow runners and cyclists. This morning I laced up my shoes and headed outside, so incredibly grateful I was able to start my day with a run.

sunrise running


Morning Run

I run

in the early morning

when the sky hasn’t yet begun

to blush

with the sun’s color.

My breath

fills the quiet air,

the only sound before day break.

My feet slap a rhythm,

the crickets join in to accompany me.

When I finish, salty

with sweat, lungs heavy, legs burning,

the morning sun peeking

over the curve of the earth,

I am finally ready

to begin my day. 

October 8, 2015

NoVa Bards Anthology

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Last Saturday I went to the book launch party for NoVa Bards Anthology, an anthology of poetry from poets living in the northern Virginia area. This is the first anthology but the editors/publishers plan on making it an annual publication.



Anthologies are always an interesting mix of poetry and this proved no different. Of the twenty-nine poets featured in the anthology, twelve came to the book launch party. And every poem had a different vibe, every poet had a different writing style.

I have two poems featured in the book, Bookshelves and A Manifestation of Anger.

My poem, Bookshelves

My poem, Bookshelves


You can buy a copy of the book here. The next reading will be at the Patrick Henry Library (101 Maple Ave E, Vienna, VA) on Saturday, 24 October from 2-5pm. In addition to the poets from the anthology reading, there will also be an open mic portion so come on out and enjoy some poetry!


Germ Magazine, who has already graciously published two of my poems, Starfish and Love is a Lesion on Your Brain, just published another of my poems, First Date.

First Date is a (mostly) true story. I did have a guy, on our first date, tell me women couldn’t drive his car. I did then take his keys and hit triple digits to prove him wrong. Writers sometimes struggle with how much truth do they tell in their writing. Are we allowed to embellish? Do we stick to the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? The poetry workshop I’m taking specifically addressed this topic this week.


So it would seem there can be both – true and untrue, fact and fiction. My poem First Date is a mix of both, it is mostly true and the root of it is true, but of course some things were tweaked a bit for the sake of the story.

My good friend Erica sent me her thoughts on my poem:

When I read that poem I can only hear it in your voice. That’s pretty fucking impressive. You came through loud and clear. I love that in one short poem you show your bad ass, super feminine, down with the man attitude and then put on red lipstick. It’s totally you – your complicated, unapologetic, ‘see me as the strong, powerful woman that I am or fuck you’ way – and I am so proud to know and love you.


Mark Twain once said, “I can live for two months on a good compliment.” Erica just gave me those two months.