Tag Archives: creative writing

Self-Portrait – A Poem

8 Dec

sometimes I rearrange mental furniture at

3 in the morning; tearing books off of

shelves placing chairs in strange positions, and forget to

write letters to distant relatives and

wish happy birthdays to friends, but

that doesn’t stop me from

dancing in front of mirrors as if

they were placed in studio halls and

fighting as if

bruises didn’t last for seven days and

running doesn’t cause my surgery laden knees to ache but

sometimes I think I’ll reach somewhere

beyond where the trees break and

where the sky and the ground meet, where

the blue Charles River mixes with

the pink finger-painted sky if

I don’t stop, so

I don’t.

sometimes I have thoughtless nights staring

at the white dots that form my ceiling and

sometimes I have too many thoughts at night that

I can see whirling around my head until

they tire me into the submission of sleep, but

that doesn’t mean I don’t dream about

the things I can’t see but want anyway, things like

love and being remembered for being more than

a compilation of cells, more than skin and bones that

ache at the end of the night.

sometimes I play dated music at obscure hours, shelved in

battered packages and faded cardboard collections, echoes of

people who no longer remain in bodies but lie

between the scratches of the records passed down from

my mother and father, more

pieces of the people they used to be, given to

me as a last effort to remember their own

ill-fated rebellious adolescence.

sometimes I fall in love with a feeling and

fall out of love with reason but

that doesn’t mean that I’m wrong.

sometimes I find myself in the words that

I write and sometimes that’s

all I need

to be.


Paper Faces

8 Nov

So for last week’s Halloween prompt Masquerade I came up with this little scene using Hawkeye and Black Widow from the Avengers:

Natasha dresses up as a formal masquerade ball-gower, with a flowing red gown and a sparkly, feathered masque. Clint dresses up as something comical. Fury? Hill? Loki? Banner? Before the party or where ever it is they are (under cover?) He takes off her masque and plays with her hair and tries to get her to be someone else, to be an actual thing. Some time (later? After the party? On a cold, breeze balcony?) She explains that she loves the idea of the masquerade because the mask isn’t her own. She is always masquerading as someone else, and by dressing up but as no one in particular, she is actually allowed to be herself.

I liked it so much that I turned it into a fan fiction. And actually though the emotional weight of the summery is centered on Natasha, when I was writing it kind of flipped, at least for now, to Clint. Anyway, if you’re interested it’s called Paper Faces and you can check it out here.

(And yes, I now have the Phantom of the Opera stuck in my head. Bonus points if you know why!)