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Beyond my anxiety, beyond this writing,
the universe waits, inexhaustible, inviting.
The Barnacle and the Gray Whale
You enchant me, with your carnival
Yours is a system of slow.
There is you, the pulley
and there is you, the weight.
Your eyes wide on a hymn.
Your deep song like the turn
of that first,
that earliest of wheels.
Said the Whale,
I have seen you, little encruster,
in that business of fouling the ships.
Known, little drum machine, you
to tease out food from the drink.
Little thimble of chalk and hard water.
You could be a callus of whiter skin.
You could be a knucklebone. You
who hang on me,
like a conscience.
Copyright © 2014 by Cecilia Llompart.
what if the coins you find randomly at the bottom of drawers and in between couch cushions are actually from spiders trying to pay rent
Nothing will benefit human health and increase the chances for survival of life on Earth as much as the evolution to a vegetarian diet.
On the Gallows Once
by Kofi Awoonor
I crossed quite a few
of your rivers, my gods,
into this plain where thirst reigns
I heard the cry of mourners
the long cooing of the African wren at dusk
the laughter of the children at dawn
had long ceased
night comes fast in our land
where indeed are the promised vistas
the open fields, blue skies, the singing birds
and abiding love?
History records acts
of heroism, barbarism
of some who had power
and abused it massively
of some whose progenitors
planned for them
the secure state of madness
from which no storm can shake them;
of some who took the last ships
disembarked on some far-off shores and forgot
of some who simply laid down the load
and went home to the ancestors