Friday Poem: ‘Grasshopper’ – by Irshad Salim
when lilies in pond diesnakes move inwhen snakes swirl outrats move inthe house withrodents micesants roachesdoo dats… grasshopper findsgreener pastureplaying fieldnot so green Irshad Salim; July 2024
Thursday Poem: ‘Metropolis With Ghazal’ by Siddharth Dasgupta
Come walk with me through the bones of this bustling city.Time hedges its bets in the spit-spatter of this hustling city. On the streets, fragrance is rampant. Catharsis of us,
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A London Jeweler Turns to Home Goods Made With Precious Metals
by Jo Rodgers at New York Times: Walk down a side street in London’s diamond district and you might catch the scent of frankincense and agar wood as it drifts
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Wednesday Poem: It’s the Little Things
It’s the Little Thingsthe sparrow’s tender headthe dead possum on the roadthe pungent smell of the fresh creekin the summer when heat risesto the bridge that spans its widthand if
Tuesday Poem: A Family Matter
Of course, when my mother askedthat I give my wife a kiss for her, I did so,telling my wife, I am my mother, kissing you.My wife’s mother, it turns out,
Sunday Poem: Hundred Flowers Blossom
I went to the woodsbirds talked with musictheir marriagesand a tree laceratedits trunk, offered me seatas I stood in a labyrinth. The wind laughed the leavesoff the treetill saliva poured
Frida Kahlo’s Painting ‘The Wounded Table’ Vanished in 1955. The Hunt For it Continues.
by Paulina Olszanka at Air Mail: During her divorce from the artist Diego Rivera, Frida Kahlo began work on a masterpiece that gave voice to her anger at the infidelities
Thoughts On The Advice Pandemic
by Tom Cox at The Villager: In my experience, it is the people who seem most adamant that they know the correct way to live, and are most keen to
Saturday Poem: ‘Why I Write’ by Akshay
These words are for me,For I’m the one who’s hurting,I’m just healing myself. I often wonder why we can’t understand other’s poems sometimes, but deep down it is the one
Friday Poem: ‘Nothing Gold Can Stay’ by Robert Frost
Nature’s first green is gold,Her hardest hue to hold.Her early leaf’s a flower;But only so an hour.Then leaf subsides to leaf.So Eden sank to grief,So dawn goes down to day.Nothing
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Thursday Poem: The World is a Beautiful Place
The world is a beautiful placeto be born intoif you don’t mind happinessnot always beingso very much funif you don’t mind a touch of hellnow and thenjust when everything is
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Wednesday Poem: Eve’s Protest
Men insist I shouldn’t use my body to conquerthem when men have been using meto look at loneliness less directly. I solvetheir endless wars; I’m a rack to hangheadless hats.