This may sound easy. It isn’t.

“A poet is somebody who feels, and who expresses [her] feeling through words. This may sound easy. It isn’t.” E.E. Cummings (or e.e. cummings as he preferred) wrote this advice to a young poet, and my poetry teacher shared it with me when I first started writing. After 27 years, it’s still not easy, but I can’t […]

One poem a day . . . for 30 days

I’m excited to be part of Tupelo Press’s 30/30 project. I will be joining 173 poets who committed to this daily practice of shaping words on the page. It’s not as easy as it sounds. I look forward to pushing myself. I start March 1st. If you write or read or just want to try […]

Insomnia, debunked

From Four Blue Eggs (2017 Homebound Publications), a poem that has had quite a journey, from a notebooks sketch more than 25 years ago to a small but central kernel excerpted in my forthcoming memoir, The Comet’s Tail: A Memoir of No Memory. In My Sleeplessness, I Hear an Opera In the beginning, I hear […]

Workmanship

Thanks to the Connecticut Poetry Society for posting my poem “Building a House” in their “members’ poems” link (see menu bar under “MORE”). You’ll also find tributes and contest information. Join today and help support the written and spoken word.   Building a House by Amy Nawrocki On our usual walks, mud gushing into hiking […]

Escaping the hook

I’m looking forward to an upcoming post-Christmas family reunion. Here is one of my favorite poems from Potato Eaters, my first chapbook from Finishing Line Press. The photo, too, is one of my favorites, found in an attic box years ago. That’s my mother, on the right, and two of her brothers on the left. […]

Rewriting

For My Thirty-third Forty-fifth Birthday  Four times ten has run around the globe. Along the way she picked up five more: a gull winging to fortune, a wasp buzzing villainy, a blond crested hawk surveying the increments, two mourning doves in flight The companions, with sails blazing, frequent glassy seas, blue-green mountains.   Poem to Myself […]

ORIGINS: “Lucifer Falls, New York” by Amy Nawrocki

Originally posted on JMWW:
In today’s ORIGINS, Amy Nawrocki talks about the inspiration for her poem “Lucifer Falls, New York,” which appears in the summer 2013 issue of jmww: Three months before the wedding, my husband and I found my wedding band in a jewelry story in Ocean City, repacked the car and headed north…

New Year’s Eve

  truant clocks shapeshift like lamppost bulbs—following time’s ascent: evening

Stoked

  The moon’s fingernail scrapes a far away gazer’s thoughts, breaking open her mind, freeing a thousand love songs stoked with lunar dust.  

Perspective

  hold a horizon lengthwise, like a pencil, like a white pine sapling