Tag Archives: anger

Recap of 2013 in Poetry

behind drawn curtains it’s so much easier to simply say you are confused. As a matter of belief. A white girl from the suburbs. Becoming aware of privilege on Saturday night. Your grandmother’s age-freckled hands around her favorite teacup Dog tags clicked against his chest our capacity to endure grief— what really counts in aContinue reading “Recap of 2013 in Poetry”

Unfold into Blossom

If you’re not sure that opening is for you, every life is better for it. And if you don’t think vulnerability is really your thing, guess again. Grief shuts life down. Locks the doors. Pulls the drapes. Shutters the windows. But at some point, you have to go outside again. And inevitably, in your firstContinue reading “Unfold into Blossom”

Let Yourself Feel It

People look at me and think it’s my rage I need to get in touch with. But it’s not the rage I’m afraid to feel. It’s the grief. To get through this wall, I have to drop my sword and go into the breach—into the darkness—unarmed. But there’s so much grief in there that I’mContinue reading “Let Yourself Feel It”

Intent versus Impact

It’s a jungle out there. Trying to guess at others’ motives–all the while tangled up in our own reactions–it’s a wonder we communicate anything at all. “I don’t think most people are out to hurt you,” a woman at a holiday party said today. “But it’s hard to overlook this when they something and itContinue reading “Intent versus Impact”

Rage Against the Dying of the Light

I inherited my mother’s rage. And she had a lot to be angry about. Growing up in small-town Kennewick in the 1950s and 1960s, she was told she couldn’t do what the boys did. Couldn’t race bikes out in the street. Couldn’t beat them at math. So she did. But, as a consequence, she couldn’tContinue reading “Rage Against the Dying of the Light”