But in Iraq, there was no plywood on the picture window. I slept through the early part of the storm, dreaming about a call to prayer sucking me into the basement of a mosque. Do mosques even have basements? Or would I be disappointed to learn that they do not, like the Alamo.

November is men’s mental health. These prompts were created by “The Lighthouse of Poetry” which is a page dedicated to mental health

I was recollecting all the times I had struggled to fall asleep. It felt like thousands, if not tens of thousands, of hours staring

This is a revised essay, the original of which I wrote nearly two decades ago as a High School student. It is about my grandfather.

Tears suddenly rolled down my right cheek. It felt as if a channel of magma was tunneling through the granite my face was supposed to be...

It’s hard for me not to react emotionally to the news of Sarah Cavanaugh being revealed as a “stolen valor” con artist.

What Happens When an 8th Grader Reads My Poetry? Their response enlightens me!

An article about how simple machines have changed the landscape of devices and hardware.

My online social media accounts were filled with praise for our troops (particularly the Marine Corps) for hunting down and killing insurgen