Melinda Coppola

twenty four may | from the inside out

Melinda Coppola

twenty four may | from the inside out

About My Blog

I started this blog to quiet the voices in my head and heart that have been whispering and cajoling and sometimes yelling at me to write more.

This is a space where all the parts of me—mother, poet, wife, lover of beach stones and furry creatures and frequent toe-dipper in the river of song, Yoga practitioner, and teacher and she-who-cooks and she-who-makes-art and she-who-loves-silence, where all the parts of me can come out to play.

I started this blog to keep myself engaged in dialogue with my soul. If what I write interests you, educates you, moves you, …well, that’s a beautiful bonus.

Most Recent Blog Post

A Little Bullish

I know, I know. Much is not right here in the world. We conjure and raise up hatreds and fears born of misconceptions. We bow down to profit and convention instead of the goodness in each other. We make wars, first with ourselves, and then with those we call other.

We perpetrate unspeakable violence against the creatures that also claim this land and air and water as their home.

Still, I am lifted and hopeful. It’s not all (or even most) of the time, but I can still find the little red flower growing out of the trash heap. If I get down close to the earth and press my ear to the dry ground I can still hear the stirrings of worms and scuttling bugs. I can still feel the wee, sigh-like stretch of seedlings getting close to breaking through the dirt. I can keep loving their new green hopefulness and joy. So grateful I am, for this.

My default is introversion. Truth is, I am very comfortable in here. But being out and about, not just with the grasses and trees, but also among people, can be life-giving, too.  Shopping for food becomes therapy, when I remember to put PAY ATTENTION on my list, and then take notes.

Notes:

In the subterranean levels of my being, I have a faith/in you, kindly looking woman with two kids in your grocery cart, one of whom is screaming/ in you, silver haired twosome who might be sisters, or friends, or lovers, combing through the bananas to find the perfect combination of yellow and green/in you, ever cheerful cashier who almost always speaks to my daughter as she stands, rocking and scripting, beside me in your line/and/in you, young man with the profane political bumper sticker on the truck you drove here, which may not be yours/truck or sentiment/I have faith in you.

 

—Melinda Coppola

Read More Blog Posts

A Little Bullish

I know, I know. Much is not right here in the world. We conjure and raise up hatreds and fears born of misconceptions. We bow down to profit and convention instead of the goodness in each other. We make wars, first with ourselves, and then with those we call other.

Read More »

She Runs On

She Runs On and On, and On   A whole lot of nothing happening here in the Department of Creation of New Poems, and so I sat down with DETERMINATION and began to write, the way I used to write before I knew what “good” writing was and before I

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Hello Out There

Hello, As a very part-time Yoga teacher (and former studio owner), I maintain a separate email communication list for my students. There is a little bit of cross-over; a handful of my students (or former students) also subscribe to this blog. I’ve never sent the same email to both lists,

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Sixty Unplugged Minutes with my Love

I used a text to carve an island from a Thursday in two overloaded lives. I typed 10 to 11 Walk with me. Moose Hill. I meant Come. To the refuge down the road, the one where boardwalks hover over murky waters in which juicy clusters of grape-like frog eggs

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What’s in a name? More pub cred, musings

Mid-April already?  Time is such a liquid concept. Today, my  already may be your finally. It is already April?  Finally, it is spring.  In February, my finally was louder than my already. Finally, Winter has lifted the frayed ends of her long gray coat and begun her drawn-out egress. I’ve

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AUTISM AWARENESS DAY Redux

I’m re-posting this poem in recognition of “World Autism Awareness Day.”   As D, a sister mom from my autism tribe, has said, ” We are aware. We are very aware.”   Autism Awareness month is April, World Autism Awareness Day, April 2 and, in case the day lacks color, (as

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All This Joy, All This Sorrow

Monday, March 28, morning. It’s snowing as I write this.  Big, fluffy flakes that arrive past the date of our northern hemisphere Spring equinox.  I wonder if they know they won’t accumulate. If they did know, would their especially short lifespan would matter to them?  I suspect not.  Nature cycles

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A Little Flower

“I have lived a great deal among grown-ups. I have seen them intimately, close at hand. And that hasn’t much improved my opinion of them.” ― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince Hello, First, here’s a sweet daffodil that blossomed outside my door yesterday. A little yellow beacon of hope.

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