Category Archives: Poetry

Saved by a Spider: Connection is Key

Spider with Suicide             A long-legged spider hung above where I, twenty-one, lay on an attic cot in the abandoned house I’d climbed into—   the place I swallowed all those pills but woke up—frightened, disappointed, baffled really.   Now what?   I touched the cool brick next to me,…

Do You Think You are Crazy?

Think again– maybe you had surgery without anesthesia as a baby. Do you wonder why it’s hard to be intimate with someone, hypervigilance charging your cells? Maybe you had surgery without anesthesia as a baby. Do you wonder why you don’t know whether to live or die– Maybe you had infant surgery without anesthesia. Do…

The Dangers of Being Seen/Unseen

Many people who’ve experienced the trauma of infant surgery or who have post-traumatic stress (PTS) for a number of reasons have issues with visibility. It is dangerous to be seen.  I recently spoke to a survivor of infant pyloric stenosis surgery who told me that one of his biggest issues was the anxiety brought on…

Our Walking Together – a poem

I wrote this piece in the ReStory Your Life – Freedom After Trauma Meetup group that I facilitate. Each of us chose a picture from an array of different images spread out on the table before us to write about. I chose a postcard depicting a native American drawing on the wall of a canyon. This…

Writing with the Left Hand

At age 22, I was a junior at Barnard College in New York City, experiencing anxiety, panic attacks, and facial pain from TMJ (tempero-mandibular joint). Little did I know at the time that I had post-traumatic stress (PTS) from an infant surgery for pyloric stenosis, a stomach blockage, at 26 days old. Naively, after the spring…

Check out my Updated ART and POETRY Pages!

I’m excited to tell you that I have some new material to share! After clicking on MY WORK on the home page, click on ART. You’ll find 50 of my drawings and paintings that are included in various posts I’ve written over the past three years and are now available in a ‘slideshow’ fashion. You…

To Journal–To Save a Life

Journaling saved my life. Throughout the turmoil of my twenties, writing in a journal gave me a safe space to live. In the pages of my notebooks, I drew pictures, raged, played with words, poemed, analyzed and understood myself, and basically figured out how to go on living day-to-day. I taped in images from magazines…

Time for a Poem (or Two)

Let Love Let an open heart drench us in love. When critique flies in fill your well with kindness– a hand offered, a drink, a cup. Let us understand, step back from analysis, bow to forgiveness. Let us put our hands together in a prayer of thanks for our mistakes that teach us to laugh at…

The Eye of PTSD

PTSD happens without warning. This week, I stayed at my god-daughter’s while attending The Healing Art of Writing Workshop. Each night before I went to bed, I warmed up the room with a heating lamp; its glow was friendly and warm. I usually turned it off well before I shut the light. One night though, I unplugged…

Off to the Healing Art of Writing Workshop!

I’m off to The Healing Art of Writing Workshop at Dominican University in San Rafael, California, a city in Marin County just north of San Francisco. I am hoping to make some strong connections with other writers and healers, affirm my dedication to writing, revel in the company of writers and artists who are devoted to…