Nerissa Nields

On Point of View

Practically the first thing you need to decide when writing fiction is “who is telling this story?” Historically, we novelists have had many options. When novel-writing in English began in…

On Revision

with a little help from Barbara Abercrombie and Henry David Thoreau. Revision is writing, but it’s a different kind of writing from the jagged, ebullient flow of first draft. When…

Autobiography in Five Sentences

It’s Day 2 of my January Retreat here in Little Blue. Every morning, I give a short prompt best done long-hand. Today’s was inspired by Melissa Febos, a brilliant writer…

Thoughts After Listening to a Podcast Interview of Tricia Hersey

Raising a child in America is an act of violenceEverything from the crashing together of the two cells(To say nothing of the act that caused that unionWhether it involved a…

Firstborn

This is poem #28 out of my 30 poems, and I would so so so so appreciate it if you would support the amazing organization and community at Center for New Americans. Why? Because they are a non-profit adult education center that provides the under-served immigrant, refugee and migrant communities of Massachusetts’ Pioneer Valley with education and resources to learn English, become involved community members and obtain tools necessary to maintain economic independence and stability. Because love your neighbor as yourself. Because we are all neighbors. Please support my efforts by contributing to this wonderful organization via my pledge page.

Spelunking

See the world through your new pair of glasses: 
Only what is visible 
Through this rectangle.
This is your subject. 
Now, you may travel the world
To gain a new perspective
Or you can stay home, practice spelunking.
And when your child comes to you and announces
Their path is not your path…

Dialogue

[h/t Austin Kleon, post “Seeing is Forgetting the Name of the Thing One Sees” here. Also inspired by quotation from AF: “My Higher Power can see everything in all directions, and I need that wisdom today.”]

Sheath

Before I knew its name, I knew the laurel bushBy its gnarled branches, as bent as my grandmother’s hands,The space it made for a three-year-old’s fort. I knew its flowers…

The Surprising Cure for My A.D.D.

My poem came from Sarah Sullivan’s prompt to “copy” the poem “Small Talk” by Kirsten Shu-yin Chen. As listeners to my band The Nields know, I am a big fan of borrowing/stealing the forms and tropes of others to make something new of my own.

By the way, I have been using that Pilates bar regularly, and to give credit where it’s due, I’ll say that I got it from a company called “Stretched Fusion.” They did not pay me to say this. And if they offered me big bucks for endorsing them, I would take the money and run.