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About me - Elizabeth Stewart

A professor in college once posed the question, "What will you do with this one wild and creative life?"

My goal is to figure that out.

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Creative Writing > Reflections Reflections: Identity
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When I was born, as most children are, a name was bestowed upon me. I can only imagine my parents, looking down at their second born's chubby face and smiling, knowing that the name they carefully chose was the right one. All my family is named after saints. Surprisingly, we are not Catholic. There's a picture of my father ho... More..

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: It feels like home with you
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I love you like an old country song.With cowboy hats and longstretches of empty highwayon a lonely moonlit nightin a rumbling pickup truckRunning through the fieldsand into the woodschasing butterflies anddandelion fluffall smiles and laughterSomething pure and realtrue to both our broken heartshealing as the soft summer rain... More..

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Conversations on love
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am i talking? 12/03/2004i'm holding my tonguebecause you're holding my heartand i fear that if i am a disappointmentwith one swift moveyou crush what keeps me alivei know you're not like themi know this time is differentbut i have heard that line beforeand i'm sorry i'm being so carefuli know i don't disappoint(you, at leasto... More..

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Voices
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Don't know where to startIf using pencil or pen isbetterBecause I'm just going towrite and not stop to thinkabout this voiceor thatMy voices - my vices -are all differentBut part of meAnd head voice is differentthan paper voice and handvoice is different than mouthvoices have at least several phasesBecause phone voice itselfi... More..

Creative Writing > Memoirs Memoirs: Finding a path
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When I was 9, I learned to ride a bike.This doesn't seem like an anomaly to many people, but where I lived, it seemed like an eternity. Kids in the country were riding bikes, it seemed, shortly after they learned to walk. I had training wheels, and by age seven, they were humiliating, the thought of such freedom taunting me f... More..

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: What I am made for
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What I am made for:poetry words sentencesstories memories kissessnuggles sleepingkittens musiclistening playingwalks in the rainsleeping in hallwayssitting in strange cubbyholesstanding on the bridgelong hot baths sheets out of the dryersweatshirts jeans sneakerscigarettes and sodabooks poems [of others]poetry [my own]being o... More..

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: The unknown
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I feel sickpanickedcrazed...The irrational parts of meare screaming,laughing,because to them,I've screwed up, again...And they just love to watch me fall...Control is a funny thingbecause I havecapacity for itbut not enough.I miss himand it hurtslike he ripped out my heartand left agapingbleedingwheezinghole.My voice is shril... More..

Creative Writing > Reflections Reflections: How I see myself in the mirror
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"She's pretty," I think, unabashedly staring at her through the reflection in the window of the subway. I wonder if she notices.Rosy red full cheeks, sans makeup, how brave she must be to go out with a naked face. Those full, perfect, china-doll lips, the kind many women pay exorbinate amounts of money for, searching for a mi... More..

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Anticipation
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Confused.This is for you...I do this for you...You're here for me?Sighs, moans, screamsI love your hands.I can't sleep still next to youRevelling in safetyDon't want a moment to slip byUnnoticedKiss my hairand hug me tightAre you sure this is alright?You're so tiredDark circlesDon't work so hard, SupermanSleepy smudged eyesan... More..

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Safety
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cranial leakage 11/19/2004my heart hurts.i get this warm and safe feelingwhen i talk to youbut you're far awayand i am hereand the feeling disappearswhen you doand there's nothing we can doabout itbut would you really feel this wayif you were hereif you knew methe real life meim nothing specialyou know that, rightim messed up... More..

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