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

Pippi

 

For the most part, my childhood nourished my creativity and sense of wonder. I feel so fortunate to have come up in a time before cell phones and social media. My knowledge of screens was limited to our old black and white TV set and the occasional movie outing. Children’s literature was a treasured part of my formative years. Some of my best friends lived in books!  Astrid Lindgren’s Pippi Longstocking stories were a special delight to my emerging and quirky young self.

 

I Miss You, Pippi Longstocking

Do you remember my name?

We spent hours together,
finding new and robust ways
to be contrarians
in a world
that wants their children
small and clean,
polite,
obedient.

We’d tie rags
on our feet
and go sliding
through the sudsy floors
of Villa Villekula
on cleaning day.

We’d grab soft drinks
from the Sockerdicka tree
outside your door.

We’d find adventure
without seeking it,
righting wrongs
and wronging rights
and telling truthful lies.

Remember how you
made me smile
and laugh
at the infinite possibilities
right there in front
of an ordinary day?

I’d dive
into the cool pages
and want to swim
with you there
forever.

I took a friend Thing Finding once
but she didn’t get it,
not really at all,
and when I told you this
you stood on your horse
and rode backwards through
the little streets,
laughing, laughing.

 

–Melinda Coppola

 

 

 

 

 

Read More Blog Posts

Communicable

PROPAGATION I’ve taken to humming in the produce section while caressing the plums, sneaking sniffs of the cilantro, eyeing the lemons, audacious in their yellowry. It’s a low, soothing thing, the thrum of air over vocal chords, nearly a buzz, and I am almost a bumblebee, hovering over color, circling

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Harmonious Discord

This morning I walked early, mismatched garments layered to repel a cold, spitting rain. I’d pushed his baseball cap down hard over the knitted ear band I bought to share with her, which she most emphatically rejected for not being soft enough, or pink. Featherweight Bean jacket— the one that

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BEGIN AGAIN

BEGIN AGAIN “Our life is an apprenticeship to the truth that around every circle another can be drawn; that there is no end in nature, but every end is a beginning, and under every deep a lower deep opens.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson Begin again is the dry brush dipped

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FISHING

Perched on the frost hardened bank of the wide, cold river, eyes intent on the rushing water, dark and high, I notice the greenish brown river grasses, rooted hopefully in their muddy beds, in a permanent lean as the current pulls them forward, and my eyes train between the reeds,

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Brown Girl Hair Has Left the Building

Bink loves girl hair. For the uninitiated, this translates to long straight hair hanging down, on a female of any age. Preferably, the hair should be visible equally on the right and left sides of her head. I’ve had long brown hair for 25 of my daughter’s 27 years. At

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My Bread and Butter

Hello, dear blog. Hello, faithful tribe of readers. My neglect this past month stems not from writers block, but from posting block. Yes, it’s a thing, one which might even merit capitalization. Posting Block. I have spent mornings and nights in awe of the earth’s revolutions, the comings and goings

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Imagine the Harvest

Mercy What if we had drills, not just for disasters, fires and hurricanes, not just for active school shooters and any possible terrorisms both foreign and domestic, what if we had rigorous training in kindnesses: how to recognize them incoming, start a volley with the perpetrators. Imagine preparations for frequent

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My Daughter, the Foodie

Bink loves food. In fact, her relationship with it goes far beyond what tastes good and satisfies her hunger. She loves looking at cookbooks, finding recipes on the computer, and watching cooking shows. The painting subject she selects for her weekly art class is often something edible. The paintings on

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Turn, turn, turn, turn

OCTOBER October is like an unplanned drive, the roads back country and meandering, the other cars occasional, a determined deer or quicksilver squirrel the biggest hazards, and then just like that the road widens, and thickens, a harsh unnatural line slicing the middle, asphalt and buildings erupting like an acne

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