Until nomading ends

Today’s poem comes from Four Blue Eggs, which won the 2013 Poetry Prize from Homebound Publications. It’s available now in its second edition (with a new cover).   Sensitive Skin The universe has banished us; fragile gauze hair on tiny forearms succumbs to renegade heat waves and celestial currents, which now and again sabotage our […]

the chaos of tumbling

Hold steady . . .  find your still point . . . get used to letting go . . . I was pleased to by honored recently by the Hamden Arts Commission and the Hamden Symphony Orchestra for my poem “Circumstance.” The poem won second place in the first ever poetry award co-sponsored by both […]

the paraphrase of a quail egg

After Inspecting Brassaï’s Graffiti At Musée d’Art Moderne I notice the construct of silhouetted stick figures juxtaposed above a door; one’s triangular body tells me to go into a different salle. There, I find another version of graffiti on the door in front of me as I sit down. This is not art someone has […]

Coils

Losing the Summer Winter enters the body and it collapses, the blood cells attack, the fever leaves the brain with its patterns of coils and discs like a red stovetop, an alphabet of rivers and branches. This landscape, contoured for activity, settles into animal hibernation, while remnants of ancient languages howl from the hospital monitor. […]

PechaKucha 20×20 Bridgeport Vol. 1

I have to admit that before the Barnum Museum in Bridgeport Connecticut invited storytellers to participate in their first PechaKucha night, I had no idea what PechaKucha was. It’s simple to describe: a slide show of 20 slides which progress through 20-second intervals–so a story in 6 minutes and 40 seconds. More than the slideshow, […]

Parallel Lines

Line ’em up– my wrinkles against Sol LeWitt’s Wall Drawing (one of many)  at the Wadsworth Antheneum, Hartford Connecticut. Suddenly I feel better about aging “gracefully.”

Half dove

From Little Bound Books and Homebound Publications: The Comet’s Tail: A Memoir of No Memory. About the book: I do not remember the tubes, the tests, or the icy cold of space.  I do not remember losing six months of my life. At age nineteen, Amy Nawrocki returned from her first year of college, scribbled […]

Waving wands, casting spells

New broadside for The Comet’s Tail: A Memoir of No Memory. Why not celebrate Independent Bookstore Day and purchase your copy today. Click HERE   the  A journal excerpt from 1992, two months before I stumbled into the big sleep and then the specialists would take over . . . 28 April: My mind is thick […]

The Energy of a Tidal Wave

I am not a delicate flower. I am not the likeness of a leopardess, I am the energy of a tidal wave. I am the catastrophe of a raindrop. I am an orchid, I am a lily. I am a life and death without a mask. I am a fork and a forklift. I am […]

Once . . . always

Pre-orders of The Comet’s Tail: A Memoir of No Memory have shipped! To celebrate, here’s a snippet, teaser, foreshadow. The memoir chronicles the summer of 1992 when I slept in a “profound coma.” Leading up to that illness, I kept a journal–mostly ramblings of a first-year college student, a few loose drafts of poems, many […]