Hip-Hop Ghazal BY PATRICIA SMITH Gotta love us brown girls, munching on fat, swinging blue hips, decked out in shells and splashes, Lawdie, bringing them woo hips. As the jukebox teases, watch my sistas throat the heartbreak, inhaling bassline, cracking backbone and singing thru hips. Like something boneless, we glide silent, seeping ‘tween floorboards, wrapping around the hims, and ooh wee,…
“Those lips that love’s own hand did make” by William Shakespeare
Those lips that love’s own hand did make
Breathed forth the sound that said “I hate,”
To me that languished for her sake.
But when she saw my woeful state,
Straight in her heart did mercy come,
Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
Was used in giving gentle doom,
And taught it thus anew to greet.
“I hate” she altered with an end
“You would think it would be impossible to find anything new in the world, creatures no man has ever seen before, one-of-a-kind oddities in which nature has taken a backseat to the coursing pulse of the fantastical and the marvelous.”
~Museum of Extraordinary Things by Alice Hoffman
- 1 week ago
Running Away Together BY MAXINE W. KUMINIt will be an island on strings well out to sea and austere bobbing as if at anchor green with enormous fir trees formal as telephone poles. We will arrive there slowly hand over hand without oars. Last out, you will snip the fragile umbilicus white as a beansprout that sewed us into our diaries. We will be two bleached hermits at home in our patches and…
This month we have an art display by Jose Fontaina. It’s quite colorful, come take a look.
Majong – Mondays @11:30
Knitting – Tuesdays @1:30
Crochet – Wednesdays @ 11:30
Bridge – Thursdays @1:30
- 1 week ago
March is Women’s History Month
Art from previous posts: Nanyehi (Nancy Ward) by Ericka Lugo / Dolores Elizabeth “Lola” Chávez de Armijo by Andy Purviance / Olga of Kiev by Asia Akhmetova / Mary Jane Patterson Misha VanVaerenbergh. Follow the links for the original post and artist links.
Chimes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sweet chimes! that in the loneliness of night
Salute the passing hour, and in the dark
And silent chambers of the household mark
The movements of the myriad orbs of light
Through my close eyelids, by the inner sight,
I see the constellations in the arc
Of their great circles moving on, and hark!
I almost hear them singing in their flight.
Better than sleep it…