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

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.

I’m taking a six week poetry workshop and I’m only in week two but I’m already excited about the poems I’ve written.

The first week we talked about identity and I took a slightly different approach to the writing prompts and didn’t write solely about myself, instead I wrote about my relationship with my sister. My sister, Kirsten, is my best friend and we’re collaborating on something really exciting – a joint poetry/art show! It’s still a bit in the future so I’ll share more details when I have them. I’ve begun working on the poems for our show and week one of my poetry workshop proved just what I needed to get the poem that’s been swirling in my head onto paper. After posting the first draft to the group I got feedback and then set about editing it based on their feedback.




The result was a really strong poem that I’m excited about.

Week two’s theme was history. Again I read the writing prompts and then spun off my own version. For this poem I dug out my old travel scrapbook and flipped to the pages that comprised my trip to Paris eight years ago. I sat staring at these pages and so many emotions came rushing back at me that soon I was picking up my pen and writing as fast as I could. The result – the first draft of the first poem I wrote this week.

Paris Memories

Paris Memories


More Paris Memories

More Paris Memories


Every workshop I’ve taken stresses one very specific thing: write every day. Every. Single. Day. This is harder than it seems but I’m focusing on doing it. Because I know I write more and I write better when I make it a regular practice. And I’ve got more memories and experiences to pour through so I’m certain I’ve got quite a few more poems in me.

September 22, 2015

Book Launch Party!

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Two of my poems are included in the soon-to-be-released NoVa Bards Anthology!

book cover

For those in the DMV (that’s DC-Maryland-Virginia for those who don’t know) please consider coming to either the official book launch party or the library reading. I’ll be there, reading and signing books, as will other poets included in the anthology. Come on out to support local poets. Both events are free and open to the public, books are $15. You can pre-order your copy here and pick it up at the reading! Hope to see you there!

Book Launch Party

When: Saturday, 3 October 2015: 2-5pm

Where: Anita’s Mexican, 13921 Lee Jackson Memorial Highway, Chantilly, VA

Library Reading

When: Saturday, 24 October 2015: 2-5pm

Where: Patrick Henry Library, 101 Maple Ave E, Vienna, VA

I’m really excited to be a part of a six-week poetry workshop called Write. Uninterrupted.


It just kicked off and I’ve read through our Week 1 packet of info and poems and I’m excited to start writing and see what the next six weeks brings. Of course the next four weeks may be the busiest at work, something hard to imagine given the 75-hour weeks I’ve been pulling since May, but with the end of this project on the horizon, it only gets crazier and busier from here. So what better time to do a poetry workshop?!

When I set my goals for 2015 the first one was: keep poetry alive. Taking this poetry workshop, even during an insanely busy time, is a way to keep it alive, to nurture it, to write daily, and hopefully bring about some poems.

September 11, 2015

Milky Way

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Yesterday was World Suicide Prevention Day and as such, I should have posted this yesterday. But for a variety of reasons it didn’t get posted and that’s okay – because this is a topic we should talk about every day, not just bring it to our attention once a year.

I would venture to say that many of us have been touched by suicide – a friend, a family member, maybe even yourself have thought about or attempted suicide. One of my very best friends struggled through years of severe depression and at one point attempted suicide. Thankfully she called for help in time and is still here. But it’s something that affects many of us and it still remains a taboo topic. That needs to change. People need to call for help and people need to listen for that call. I know I’m listening, I’m here. I’ll hold your hand and keep your head above water. I promise.

Sierra DeMulder and Tonya Ingram released a powerful poem yesterday in honor of World Suicide Prevent Day:


After watching that poem I sat thinking about my friend, the one who almost took her life. Then I wrote this poem.

Milky Way

The ghosts dance around you,

tangle their chains

in your hair and call to you softly,

seduce you with their tender caresses

and easy words.


Every morning you wake

and ring the bell, decide to give it

“one more day”,

swallow the pill that keeps the lub-lub

of your heart from racing like a wild horse,

swallow the pill that keeps the frantic

panic to a dull roar,

swallow the pill that keeps the suffocating

sadness to a quiet ache.


The ghosts are always there,

the shadow in your peripheral,

the darkness on even the brightest of days.

Every night I look up and thank

the Milky Way you keep fighting.