We may feel bitterly how little our poems can do in the face of seemingly out of control technological power and seemingly limitless corporate greed, yet it has always been true that poetry can break isolation, show us to ourselves when we are outlaw...
I find funny that altho no one is perfect, we constantly compare ourselves to others. Judging others by their appearance and wealth, assuming that they're happier than us. History shows that human's will never be fully satisfied. Even those who seem ...
I would never normally approach a woman in this way, but I couldn't help but notice that you have the eyes of a lady I was once desperately in love with. " "What a shame to love only once," she said, showing her white teeth in a wicked smile. "I've h...
It's likely that every day presents an opportunity for you to practice radical hospitality to someone with whom you cross paths. There is no shortage of people who could use the fit of a caring, welcoming person in their life. How awesome would it be...
I'm from California and couldn't find a job in marketing in 2007-2009. So I became a social media blogger and marketed myself to show clients I can sell things. One client told me I sold illusions, while another told me I sold an image. I told them b...
Recuerdo que algún día yo le hablé de mi río y una como tormenta se agitó en sus estrañas. No sé si fue mi pecho que tembló de recuerdo o si fueron mis ojos que asomaron nostalgias." "I remember a day when I spoke of my river and something li...
Of course, I'd like to have fake legs. I would dance with a boy and then afterwards pull up my dress to show him my fake legs, just to watch him fall over from the shock of it. I'd do that with a hundred boys until I found the one who got down on his...
One thing more, Leon. You say that life is meaningless, but I believe it's life that's sacred. I talk about art and sex because they're the most intense life experiences I know, so I feel they must be sacred too. They let us experience the values we'...
Do you miss me?" Justine asked. "No," he said, "I spend all day not allowing myself to miss you. I don't let myself think about marshmallow-flavored kisses, or how soft the spaces between your toes are, or how I want to talk to you until we've used u...
Raven: "Don't you notice that?" Alexander: "Notice what?" Raven: "The girls?" Alexander: "What girls?" Raven: "Hello! You were worried about bringing me to a bar when all along I should have been concerned about bringing you." Alexander: "I don't kno...
That requires as much power as a small radio transmitter--and rather similar skills to operate. For it's the application of the power, not its amount, that matters. How long do you think Hitler's career as a dictator of Germany would have lasted, if ...
I believe that children in this country need a more robust literary diet than they are getting. …It does not hurt them to read about good and evil, love and hate, life and death. Nor do I think they should read only about things that they understan...
Why don't we talk about your love life? Clary countered. "What about you and Alec?" "Alec refuses to acknowledge that we have a relationship, and so I refuse to acknowledge him. He sent me a fire message asking for a favor the other day. It was addre...
Why do you talk all the time?” I asked. It was a rhetorical question, but she cocked her head on one side and considered it carefully. “I think it’s ’cause I don’t know any big words, like you and Mummy,” she said, just in time to pull me...
I was momentarily stunned by his odd announcement and told him as much. "Let’s just talk about the fact that you composed a sonnet to my vagina, shall we? You are sending off some major stalker vibes, which is odd because you’re gay. You gay, rig...
It is convenient for the old men to blame Eve. To insist we are damned because a country girl talked to the snake one afternoon long ago. Children must starve in Somalia for that, and old women be abandoned in our greatest cities. It’s why we will ...
Amends Regret lingers, niggles. Yellow lilies on the table, gone brown in the vase. The garden we talk about, endlessly, but never begin, deterred by tough sod. On the edge of the walk, the wheelbarrow full of stones waits like an undelivered apology...
You ought to go to a boy's school sometime. Try it sometime," I said. "It's full of phonies, and all you do is study so that you can learn enough to be smart enough to be able to buy a goddam Cadillac some day, and you have to keep making believe you...
Why is it that people talk about death, as if it is a part of life, when it is entirely separate? Someone passes on into the never ending void, where the living aren't allowed. We can't see, hear, touch or feel those who have succumbed to the eternal...
I think of the chimp, the one with the talking hands. In the course of the experiment, that chimp had a baby. Imagine how her trainers must have thrilled when the mother, without prompting, began to sign her newborn. Baby, drink milk. Baby, play ball...
