When I close my eyes, I see apples. When I step out my back door, I smell apples. When I look out my front door and windows, I see apples clinging to the trees and lying on the ground. For several weeks as I lie in bed at night I hear them falling, landing with […]
Apples Are Ruling My Life Read More »
They actually get paid for what they do, busily marking up giant sheets of Post-it and ripping them off to slap on the conveniently broad swathes of bland wall space. We, their captives, mostly play nice, vapid salvos hurled that add nothing much, maybe even depleting the imperiled supply of collective intelligence tidepooling here —
“‘It suddenly struck me the other day,’ continued Bernard, ‘that it might be possible to be an adult all the time.’” (Aldous Huxley, 94) In 1963 when I was an undergraduate at a midwestern university, a famous poet (at that time such a thing still existed) was spending a year on campus as Poet in
Oh Brave New World That Has Such Cornholes in It Read More »
When I used to think of colonial America, I thought of Jamestown, Virginia. Now, I think of St. Augustine, Florida. Ponce De Leon discovered the St. Augustine area of Florida in 1513 on his quest for the legendary Fountain of Youth. The city of St. Augustine, officially founded on September 8, 1565, predates Jamestown by
St. Augustine: Stepping Back in Time Read More »
The following poem was written by one of the Move Mountains Project: San Luis participants, Ayla. She wrote this during a poetry workshop. With her permission, we have reprinted it here. Thank you, Ayla, for sharing your poetry and your soul with us. ——————————– My Water Poem By Ayla I am water And I come
Saying goodbye to you Is like saying goodbye to my reflection Every morning after careful inspection Of each line and wrinkle I will forget I have Throughout the course of the day Seeing you unexpectedly Is like electrons sparking off a copper plate There’s no debate We had a connection And electric charge Discharging perfection