Kathmandu, upstate New York and New Hampshire. That is where the three youthful companions are heading, separately, this weekend. The fact that the youngest is moving into her freshman dorm right at this very minute means that one part of my life is over and another is beginning. Hello, sky. Nice to see you. … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by David Hernandez
Next week my oldest heads to Nepal and Australia for a year, one of his sisters heads back to college for her senior year, and the other to college for her freshman year. All of them far, far away. I spent many hours this week going through giant saggy cardboard boxes filled with mementos from … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Barbara Crooker
This poem has been singing itself inside my head for the past few weeks. I’ve been playing a lot of cards and listening to a lot of music and typing out a lot of words, and all those things have a rhythm to them –the shuffling of the cards, the beat of the music, the … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Alfred Noyes
For a Traveler – Jessica Greenbaum I only have a moment so let me tell you the shortest story, about arriving at a long loved place, the house of friends in Maine, their lawn of wildflowers, their grandfather clock and candid portraits, their gabled attic rooms, and woodstove in the kitchen, all accessories of the … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Jessica Greenbaum
When I Was Straight – Julie Marie Wade I did not love women as I do now. I loved them with my eyes closed, my back turned. I loved them silent, & startled, & shy. The world was a dreamless slumber party, sleeping bags like straitjackets spread out on the living room floor, my face … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Julie Marie Wade
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
