Roofmen – Patricia Fargnoli Over my head the roofmen are banging shingles into place and over them the sky shines with a light that is almost past autumn, and bright as copper foil. In the end I will have something to show for their hard labor– unflappable shingles, dry ceilings, one more measure of things … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Patricia Fargnoli
Snow – Kevin Hart Some days The snow has taken me in To know the time of snow, to live Inside a world so quiet Its music Is all a shimmering. Some evenings When quite alone I turn off every light And watch the snow Enjoy the dark, moving lushly Through spiky air, Finding more … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Kevin Hart
And so begins the great lengthening of the light: two minutes today, more tomorrow, and on and on until June 21. You’re sitting right now in darkness lit by a glowing tree. You’re remembering light, and people, past and present, dear to you. Fireflies, little magicians of bioluminescence. You spent so many days, this long … Continue reading Swimming in the dark
Life on Mir – Carole Satyamurti (Note: Mir was the former Russian space station) They took small fish, to observe the effects of weightlessness in water. Goldfish, ordinary on earth, were now miraculous, their glitter precious currency, their tiny mouths’ O and O a greeting. So that when they died some men wept, feeling, … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Carole Satyamurti
Woolworth’s – Mark Irwin (for Gerald Stern) Everything stands wondrously multicolored and at attention in the always Christmas air. What scent lingers unrecognizably between that of popcorn, grilled cheese sandwiches, malted milkballs, and parakeets? Maybe you came here in winter to buy your daughter a hamster and were detained by the bin of Multicolored Thongs, … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Mark Irwin
This was a long time ago. You were, what, twenty years old? Yes, twenty, which is about how old you are in that crappy photo to the right. You were living in Taiwan, eating potstickers and shrimp fried rice and mapo dofu, taking classes in a random sort of way, washing your clothes in a … Continue reading "And the water made a sound like memory when we sailed. . ."
The Woman Who Shoveled the Sidewalk – Stanley Plumly She clearly needed more than money, which, anyway, wasn’t much. Her dog, one of those outlawed fighting breeds, black-and-white and eyes too far apart, kept snapping at the leash, the cash I placed as simply as I could into her open hand. Her small stalled car … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Stanley Plumly
your own PDK for writing
a collection of beautiful words.....
Objects, Memory and Meaning
If it can't be said in a hundred words, then it can't be said in a thousand.
sewing a handmade wardrobe
“My mother is a poem I’ll never be able to write, though everything I write is a poem to my mother.” ~ Sharon Doubiago
The Good Things Black People Do, Give and Receive All Over The World
Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.
Thoughts on the world around me
the literary asylum
Bipolar is my superpower
