Thanksgiving I certainly knew of the Pilgrims and their celebration of thanks after their first year in the new world, and I knew that Abraham Lincoln was the president who institutionalized the Thanksgiving holiday, but vague in my memory – vague because it seems like it’s somewhere in the corners of my brain but hardly in the forefront – is that George Washington was the first president to actually proclaim a Thanksgiving holiday, albeit a onetime event until Lincoln resurrected ...
I just don't get people sometimes or perhaps most times. There is this person upon a poetry forum that I belong to who posted a poem that came off to me as seeming a bit sexist, but I knowing the general nature of his work I knew that was not truly his intent. So I told him that I felt the poem came across as sexist and parts of it left a bad taste in my mouth, but I certain that was not your intent. Then I pointed out the particular parts of the poem which caused ...
[Draft, unfinished] (An Attempt to Disentangle the Dialectics of Love and Feminism in a Male-dominated Society) Men need to be re-educated. Acutely, urgently. Don’t get me wrong. I am not about to start another male-female squabble that, alas, only lead to some ugly wrestling for another gender-related hegemony. For one, I am a woman and can duly bear witness to the fact that, ostensibly unheard of to men, genuine harmony, unity and love are the languages ...
You can’t find it in bars So much distraction and hullabaloo Not in big gatherings, no Too much fuss and hoopla Not a feeling to spoil it Nor a thought making it come about Its silent and queer ways You won’t see it coming Inexplicable, cryptic. You can picture it smiling— Of amusement? Pleasure? Mockery? You’d wonder. The greatest lessons aren’t in books Who doesn’t know You learn humility ...
See through gray and black, my darling... These are colors of the night Where thoughts of you dwell A perfect abode for everything beautiful and obscure Like the moon in a hammock With its knowing glances above you and me apart... but humming, pulsating a common melody of something uncertain, open-ended but proverbial in the midst of gray and black With our pajamas, my darling, ...
Recent Comments
