A Tough Language

“So when people say that poetry is a luxury, or an option, or for the educated middle classes, or that it shouldn’t be read at school because it is irrelevant, or any of the strange and stupid things that are said about poetry and its place in our lives, I suspect that the people doing the saying have had things pretty easy. A tough life needs a tough language and that is what poetry is. That is what literature offers, a language powerful enough to say how it is. It isn’t a hiding place – it’s a finding place.” ~Jeanette … Continue reading A Tough Language

Education. Equality.

We are stronger than bombs, more determined than the Taliban, as sisters and daughters we stand together under falling bricks and plaster, our bodies and our will are iron, we do not bend. Malala’s heart is ours, she gives face and voice to our struggle, we are resolute in the face of hatred from desert sands to snow-topped mountain all hearts beating as one. _____________________________________ Shared on dVerse Poets Pub. More street art photos can be seen on my Flickr set “NOLA Street Art”. Continue reading Education. Equality.

NaPoWriMo: Day 4 – You Go, Girl

  You Go, Girl Laughter fills the booth in between urgent whispers, spilling into the street making passers-by turn around to look with knowing smiles. ________________________ Note: “You Go, Girl” is a well known graffiti artist in the city. This is one of her more sedate pieces. If you, like me, find street art fascinating you might like to see my Flickr set of New Orleans street art here. I dreamed the first four words of this poem a few days ago and went looking in my Flickr to find a photo that might go along with it. The rest … Continue reading NaPoWriMo: Day 4 – You Go, Girl

NaPoWriMo: Day 2 – The Only Side That Counts

The Only Side That Counts   This winter wind blows as cold as your indifference, tearing at my coat like your words tore at my heart that night when I cried out for help. You turned your back on me – deliberately – even though you’d been where I was, felt what I was feeling. Had admitted as much to me. We were never really friends. We didn’t know how to be. We never shared anything of significance except a bit of time now and then. Finally, even that was more than you wanted to give. Continue reading NaPoWriMo: Day 2 – The Only Side That Counts