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Originally posted on word pond: God in Her Infinite Wisdom Sends Crows by Christina Pacosz For weeks now God has been trying to send messages with what is available. Leaves, a thousand eyelids opening, the iridescent scrawl of slugs, mundane waterfalls dripping off eaves, the rare sunlight and daily gift of mud. And God has…
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The author may not be an activist but she is definitely a thinker!
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Dear Martin, Great God, what a morning, Martin! The sun is rolling in from faraway places. I watch it reaching out, circling these bare trees like some reverent lover. I have been standing still listening to the morning, and I hear your voice crouched near hills, rising from the mountain tops, breaking the circle of…
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The poet can make a barren woman pregnant; can give her, known for her pretty smile, a pair of pirate eyes; yet cannot write in a land blighted by drought unless he puts his instrument down picks up the vase, places it square on his head, leaves his house and walks with the millions seeking…
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the winged thang built her dream palace amid the fine green eyes of a sheltering bough she did not know it was urban turf disguised as serenely delusional rural nor did she know the neighborhood was rife with slant-mawed felines and those long-taloned swoopers of prey, she was ignorant of the acidity & oil that…
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He is not the one and yet I love him inordinately. His virginity was mine and so is his oldest child. He is America and I vacillate between love and a frustration that wants to lodge in hate but can’t because I grew up in him. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs…
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Poetically speaking, growing up is mediocrity – Ned Rorem Neither rosy nor prim not cousin to the cowslip nor the extravagant fuchsia- I doubt anyone has ever picked one for show, though the woods must be fringed with their lemony effusions. Sun blathers its baronial endorsement, but they refuse to join the ranks. Summer brings…
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She cried me a river which I populated with salmon. She then fished up my nose for coke fiend dreams to tell her unstoried friends but I was unpowdered like puff the magic dragon. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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Then after Eden, was there one surprise? O yes, the awe of Adam at the first bead of sweat. Thenceforth, all flesh had to be sown with salt, to feel the edge of seasons, fear and harvest joy that was difficult, but was, at least, his own. The snake? It would not trust on its…
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Then after Eden, was there one surprise? O yes, the awe of Adam at the first bead of sweat. Thenceforth, all flesh had to be sown with salt, to feel the edge of seasons, fear and harvest joy that was difficult, but was, at least, his own. The snake? It would not trust on its…
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Tichaona Chinyelu 