Eloquence as Legacy
My mother Victoria took prolific notes. Her handwriting was an elegant cursive, quite different from my chicken scratch (that even I have difficulty deciphering sometimes). She penned lovely postcards during her travels. Clever greeting cards with her thoughtfully composed messages and a favorite quote or two enriched birthdays, anniversaries, and milestones of all sorts. She […]
Mutha
I’m so pleased to share two poems that were published today in Mutha Magazine. These two are part of the full-length poetry book I’ve been working on for years. I finally finished the manuscript in January, and sent it out to a number of publishers. Now it’s a waiting game! You can read the magazine […]
Quiet Dreamy Girl Noises
Silver Linings We are looping familiar ground, the houses predictable, almost dear. Across the way, an imposing home and its four outbuildings spreads along what used to be seven individual yards. The main house seems to peer curiously at our own small one. An anomaly, this mansion, penned in by a tall black fence that […]
In the Pink
“Fruits on Pink” by Bink She begins. First, there is pink. Well…vivid electric magenta is more apt. She pushes the frayed brush into the water jar, hitting the bottom too hard. Taps out a neurodivergent rhythm on the canvas. Some would call it background. To her, I think, it is the main thing, the focus, […]
A Tale of Two Motorists
Poem for the Pissed-Off Driver I have a third eye that sees beyond your scowl, man-behind -the-wheel who couldn’t bear to wait when I slowed to turn right and so zoomed past, horn blaring, finding just enough time to turn and glare at me, mouth a “F*** you” before roaring off to his Clearly […]
The Continuing Saga of Little Stream
A 2022 Story Part 11 You can read part 10 here: https://www.melindacoppola.com/little-stream-an…22-story-part-10 Part 11 “Lily Pond?” Little Stream called out again and again without answer into the bright air. Her voice was thin and tired, and it seemed to blow away in the wind. The long, odd journey she’d been on felt like a […]
A Hole That Can’t Be Filled
Can you imagine being in such tremendous pain that the best path to freedom seems to be ending your life? Feeling so hopeless or worthless that you truly believe the world would be better off without you? We hear from family and community members and friends left shattered, wondering if anything they could have said […]
Little Stream and Wee Lily Pond ( A 2022 story, part 10)
A 2022 Story You can read part 9 here: https://www.melindacoppola.com/a-2022-story-part-9/ Part 10 It was dark, so very dark. Moonless and sunless. In a tunnel of deafening noise Little Stream’s watery body rolled and pitched and lifted to one side and then the other. Was she right side up or upside down? Then she […]
Grandma Moses Speaks to My Lengthening Years
Anna Mary Robertson Moses, aka Grandma Moses, is one of my inspirations. I do enjoy the quiet beauty of her landscapes that hearken back to what many consider simpler times, but what really captivates me is her story. Grandma Moses was 78 years old when she began painting in earnest— a fact that has […]
Rhyming to Death
I started writing poetry when I was 8 or 9. My first notebooks were full of rhyme, crude as it may have been. Over the years my writing morphed into rambling narrative free verse. From time to time I enjoy a quick dip back into the rhythmic river of rhyme. It feels playful to me […]