River Roads – Carl Sandburg Let the crows go by hawking their caw and caw. They have been swimming in midnights of coal mines somewhere. Let ’em hawk their caw and caw. Let the woodpecker drum and drum on a hickory stump. He has been swimming in red and blue pools somewhere hundreds of years … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Carl Sandburg
ANGELS * * * A children’s dentist in a little upstate New York city. A room on the second floor of an old house, light filtering in through large paned windows. A fish tank burbling in the corner, orange and blue and yellow fish darting in and out of the windows of a small castle. … Continue reading Write about a word that makes you squirm
Hummingbird Sleep – Coleman Barks A hummingbird sleeps among the wonders. Close to dark, he settles on a roosting limb and lowers his body temperature to within a few degrees of the air’s own. As the bird descends into torpor, he assumes his heroic sleep posture, head back, tilted beak pointing to the sky, angling … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Coleman Barks
“To be alive: not just the carcass But the spark. That’s crudely put, but…” The lit-up second floor of a country grange hall. Silent countryside stretching for miles in the black night beyond. A polka band playing in the corner. A giant man –your father– telling you to hold his hands tight and stand on … Continue reading "If we're not supposed to dance, why all this music?"*
Coda – Richard Kenney I tried lacing loss into these lines, thinking to bind it safely there. But when much lifetime had raced by I saw rather trapped in the scrag noose, too, joy and daylight. I bottled also bile in these poems, thinking to isolate the toxin. But when much lifetime had raced by … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Richard Kenney
“Sublime.” A long time ago. A house that I used to live in, being repainted by two house painters. One of them a young man with red-blonde hair, newly diabetic, still figuring out how to live with it. Sometimes he started to crash, so I kept the door unlocked and orange juice in the refrigerator … Continue reading Miniature Torta #4: Three Words
The Word – Tony Hoagland Down near the bottom of the crossed-out list of things you have to do today, between “green thread” and “broccoli” you find that you have penciled “sunlight.” Resting on the page, the word is beautiful, it touches you as if you had a friend and sunlight were a present he … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Tony Hoagland
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
drink from the well of your self and begin again. -Charles Bukowski
Your Source For 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
