When the child was a child
It walked with its arms swinging,
wanted the brook to be a river,
the river to be a torrent,
and this puddle to be the sea.
Tag: <span>poetry</span>
Wandering around the Albuquerque Airport Terminal, after learning my flight had been delayed four hours, I heard an announcement: “If anyone in the vicinity of Gate A-4 understands any Arabic, please come to the gate immediately.”
I stayed behind with our dogs for a couple of days, a decision my husband and I had made together, while my husband hoped for a miracle five hundred miles away.
They don’t publish the good news.
The good news is published by us.
I hope you will never hear bombs, child
and hide in bunkers for hours, sometimes even days
I try to peel the scotch tape from the windowpane—
so stubborn I can’t claw it off
I stop by the nearest supermarket
for sponges and cleaning gloves
throw in some steel wool
for good measure
A performing arts group in Vienna, the capital city of Austria, plunges into the adventure of fighting fear! Based on the poem ‘Life doesn’t scare me’, the intergenerational ensemble develops a production in which it confronts itself with the dangers, horror, and craziness of daily life.
Not one word
can describe
the essence
of who I am
and what I stand for.
It changes.
…
“Stop” is my frequent request
to quiet the voice that comes out of a globe
too often unwanted and unasked
and always unaware of my mood and needs.
It blabbers nonsense, it’s overly friendly,
Alexa, a pretender, a sales robot, eager to please.
But I am not buying.