Tolstoy’s Grave
By Stefan Zweig at Poetic Outlaws: For I saw nothing more magnificent, nothing more moving in Russia than Tolstoy’s grave. Away from the road and lonely, this noble shrine lies
Tuesday Poem: Glass Half Empty
Why Do You Always Have To Hurt Me?Why Do You Always Have To Think So Negatively?Why Do You Always Look At The Glass Half Empty?Instead Of Looking What We Have,I
Monday Poem: We Don’t Call it a Riot
That summer was an oven on self-clean—beyond hot. The cops raided clubs for weeks.Huddled, frightened men and men and women and women and human and human heldat the end of
The Traveler By: Friedrich Nietzsche
A traveler who had seen many countries, peoples and several of the earth’s continents was asked what attribute he had found in men everywhere. He said: “They have a propensity
Sunday Poems: Light Can You Die; Listen…
From ‘Sometime Somewhere’ circa 1977: –by Irshad Salim
Saturday Poem: King of the River
If the water were clear enough,if the water were still,but the water is not clear,the water is not still,you would see yourself,slipped out of your skin,nosing upstream,slapping, thrashing,tumblingover the rockstill
Pics Speak: Week Ending June 7, 2024
Clowns celebrate The Day of the Peruvian Clown in Lima, Peru Children play on a sunken ship in Basra, Iraq A volcano spews lava in Grindavik, Iceland A vendor carries
Friday Poem: If I Had Just a Little Bit of Wisdom
If I had just a little bit of wisdomI should walk the Great Path and fear only straying from…… it.Though the way is quite broadPeople love shortcuts. The court is
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“Speaking Alone”: Silence and Speech in Post-war France
By Heather Green on Tristan Tzara: Survival and “Speaking Alone” at Poetry Foundation: “Speaking Alone” is a translation of the title poem from Tristan Tzara’s French poetry collection, Parler seul,
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‘The Last Days of Franz Kafka’
Sam Kinchin-Smith in the LRB Blog: The coincidence of the centenary of Kafka’s death, on 3 June, and the publication of the first complete, uncensored English translation of his diaries a month
Thursday Poem: Conversation With Immigration Officer
She looks at your papers.She asks your husband to step out.She asks you where your husband’s birthplace is.She is testing you. You answer: we were made in water in free-flowingsalt
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Wednesday Poem: Do Top Dogs Care
I place my body — life, in hands ofcorporate heads and engineersI am in my seat perched above a wingand through this little porthole peer. I slide my sight along