Some performances were long. We raged past the show and burrowed furiously into the night. Other performances were lonely and quiet, intimate, with soft conversation and relaxed acceptance of letting the flow be. On the last night, our voices rose and fell in play with one another, harmonizing at their own accord to the perfect pitches, intervals, frequencies.
Here is where I am calling out all abled allies of Los Angeles: this is your chance. Your chance to put your body where your mouth (er, status update) is. To move away from the computer, away from the phone, away from your wonderfully crafted Facebook posts which condemn gun laws, homophobia, and Islamophobia, and participate in a public demonstration in support of the LGBTQ community.
Often we see books as signs of civilization. I take in their tree trunk roots and inked spines and think only of the sky: (books belong in the wild)
Last week, I came across a page from Claes Oldenburg’s “Unattendable Lunches.” It’s such a mysterious text that I have yet to find the full version online.
We made it to 2015! Today has been beautiful. I’m thankful for the sun. Here’s a poem that I wrote five years ago: “Take.” I’ve been rewriting it ever since. Sharing “Take” comes at a fitting time. As 2014 transitioned into 2015, I woke from several visceral dreams and nightmares. The Read more…
“Couple #1” is the first in a series of poems called “The Couple Series.” It was conceived when–following a breakup and other intense life stuff–I somewhat impulsively decided to fly to Hawaii and backpack through the islands.
Natalie, the woman who created the poetry prompt, asked for something focused on Japan, lost love, new love, and nostalgia–all tied in with blossoming sakura.