Write a persona poem from the point of view of a person without a home. You can have a specific person in mind, or they can be entirely imagined. This person can be a homeless beggar, or someone who drifts from town to town, or…

She woke from a great slumber, In a parallel realm of space, Only to find herself somewhere foreign, That she didn’t know what to call. In a dimensional place That was in a strange state, Where she was no one, But sought after by all….

I needed someone to trust. And he was there. Whether I’m broken or bust, He gently pets my hair And though he might not always be right He always does what he can It’s always quite a sight. I believe he’s the sweetest man, That…

Remember the doll you made me, her tiny, bendable limbs, her auburn, embroidery-floss hair? And that marvelous cape? Remember the calligraphy you penned and framed to spur me on in my writing? Remember that first taste of shared freedom when I visited you at college,…

You’re amazing! I know I don’t tell you that often, if at all, but really, you are! I don’t do you justice, and I’m sorry. I tire you out and not let you rest, but you just keep going, and keep me going. I don’t…

In the middle of the night When worries keep my eyes open Or filled to the brim with tears, You were there to put my fears to bed. When a student is crying Or being especially difficult And I am a loss for words You…

So, you don’t lay eggs, those golden things, food of the gods; you don’t bow at my feet, cackling joyfully, like my speckled brown beauties; but you sing the new day, and keep singing until dusk, my farmyard musician; you flaunt your golden tail feathers,…

You varnish the skies. Your incandescent arms Embrace dark rooms, Make them blush In the slow burn of your flickering kisses. When summer’s green grows tired and bored, You crisp along its edges, Crackling with something like laughter. You pull the sun into bed at…

To Books   They’re home to me, books, my history, my medicine, my love They’re the ship, the map, the X and the trove   Friend, foe Wound, woe Bound, free Ink on pulpy tree