My Second Love: Poetry

I talk a lot on here about my upbringing with fiction, but I rarely talk about something equally as important to me: poetry.

I have always been obsessed with quotes. Always. I used to make word docs with pages and pages of my favorite book quotes each time I finished a series.

It makes sense then that fascination with poetry came naturally to me. After all, poetry is just quotes. Badass, powerful quotes grouped together that can, as people on Tumblr and Pinterest claim Poe said, “rip your soul apart.” (He didn’t say that.)

Some of my favorites are the ones that encourage you to keep pushing, pushing, pushing. And of course, my favorite has always been one of the most iconic…

When it comes to writing poetry, I always loved how I could talk about my life without actually talking about it. I’ve shared with you guys that I started my writing journey writing about my real life… but I wasn’t sharing those stories with the world. With poetry, I can. I can communicate the feelings of the memories I cherish more than anything without giving too much away. 😀

In fact, some of the favorites I’ve written have to do with said childhood memories. For instance, I spent six or seven summers as a kid having the time of my life at (don’t make fun of me) golf camp… so I wrote a poem about it.


Golf Camp

2006
You dive into
the chlorophyll,
tumbling down,
hands grasping for
fairway blades.

You’re 9, and this
is your first time here
on this measured grass
with these friends
who will be strangers after
the week ends, but not yet—
no need to think about that yet.

2011
You want to smell
the fresh-cut green:
sunburns and bug bites
and a golf club slicing the air
are all you need to worry about.

You’re 14, and all
those people from camp
are still in front of you
but slowly slipping away,
the moments made in grass—
snow angels fashioned in mud,
white balls flying to beyond—
quietly fading to gray.

2017
You’re 20—you’ve forgotten
names, faces, voices,
the calloused, sweaty hands you held
every July in thick, scorched air.

You’re back at the green
but it’s not the same. You fall
down on all fours,
knowing other peoples’
memories will be made there
as yours waste away
under the blades.


Another one of my faves is based upon “Annabel Lee” (probably my second favorite poem of all time) and was inspired by the characters in my second novel, Unattainable Reality. Here you go, whether you like it or not. 😉


A Kingdom by the Sea

Unattainable reality may be
A hyperbole—a hopeless possibility:
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea.

The islands called you by name like he
Did that night in the dark;
Gentle touch, quiet whispers brought
You there and then brought you back again.

Fifty feet drop, breath lost,
Week lost… him lost. Islands went
Away but never did. Time—
Infinite, but at what cost?

Falling, falling, falling—you never
Forgot the feeling, never healing;
He left and you watched the second hand
Tick through the hours, never moving.

On that last day, you remembered
Flying through the sky, through the
Night-tide: holding your hand as he let
It fall (you fall) through the mist—
A last embrace, a last kiss.

The sea called him by name like he
Did that night in the dark;
Gentle waves, quiet bubbles brought

You in your tomb by the sea,
In your tomb by the bellowing sea.


In summary, poetry rocks and it should get the most recognition in the world. Thanks for listening to my Ted Talk.

Ps. Whenever my books do get published, you best be sure poems will be at the beginning of all of them. (In fact, they already are.)

If you wanted to check out the other poems I’ve written, head here!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s