Where is racism when my world weaves a tapestry with yours?
The post Weaving | Angelica Fuse appeared first on Best Poetry.
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Where is racism when my world weaves a tapestry with yours?
The post Weaving | Angelica Fuse appeared first on Best Poetry.
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Author: Best Poetry Online
Clear blue sky The snow has retreated Welcome Spring The post Welcome Spring | Mónika Tóth appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online
from “How Well Do You Know Your Hitchcock? A Multiple-Choice Test for the Maestro’s Fans” By David Lehman | January 19, 2024 / in The American Scholar Ben Hur or message movies like To Kill A Mockingbird. But Hitchcock always used mystery genre conventions to explore themes of deeper significance; he relied on what he called “the MacGuffin,”…
My voice chords have taken a vow of silence.My mouth moves. My tongue hits my teeth.Lack of sound makes sense.My lips look like a red wreath. Too much enthusiasm doesn’t seem to work.Too much keeping distance leaves me bereft.I sit waiting for someone to make me talk.In the meantime, my neck turns left to right…
Youth sits hiding at the back of the room while the lesson is going on, festering in complacency a fly buzzes listlessly while two girls write an erotic reinterpretation of the scene, batting an absence of lashes at each other, faces curled in smiles sneaking in a baseball, the youth sits, meticulously unstitching it, half-listening…
Days of meteor rain claws of light scratching the black skin of space silently scraping the hole, the lesion the wound in a memory across a light years of heartbeat. Aching blue moons remember the musing of sorrow. Frozen tears hang around the nebulae. Sad sigh of a dying galaxy still waiting for them to…
The other day, Anne, my yoga teacher began class by saying, “When the student is ready, the teacher appears. So says Lao Tzu.” I couldn’t stop myself from correcting her, “Nope, he never said that.” “Who said it then?” she asked. “No one knows. I am guessing fake Lao Tzu? In other words, someone who…