October 23, 2016 |
in Poetry |
After unpinning me from the wall, head, heart, knees, feet, The left behind nail holes make a constellation of me. Under whose sky I walk out. Buzzards with their cogged wing tips gear...
Apr 5 | No Comments on URBAN RHAPSODY: The Art of Mary Chang
Mar 27 | No Comments on REMBRANT’S SEASCAPE – Mayank Chugh
Feb 24 | No Comments on ESMERALDA – Michael Montlack
Feb 16 | No Comments on FAST LOVE – Paul Genega
Ana Flores is a sculptor and ecologist. Her work is informed by how pla
Let Me Straddle Your Mind
Yeah bring our electric shaver back, I bought it we shaved each others back
it was important to me
Yes, we were country, lived in shotgun
shacks, where the road loses its way
to dirt and live
Courtesy of the artist and Mizuma Art Gallery
"Feminism is a socialist, anti-family, political movement that encourages women to lea
and Edison, NJ
The first time we try to deliver the Gold Crown the lights are on in the house but no on
Elegy & Poem
"We are all the other."
…and find inside a picture,
of myself as a child, sitting
on a small chair, wearing overalls
To Alex, on turning two
Some say the Ring of Brogar
is the Circle of the Moon.
There is n
March on Washington
An Interview with Cheryl Evans
In a strange twist of what seemed
like reverse vandalism, the Graffiti
Mecca was painted over.
Quassan Castro, poem
Grandson to Grandmother
Wynwood Walls, of Miami has been called "a Museum of the Streets."
Low like the mean dream
of Newark the sky must
have seemed to its builders.
Rickety now, unhingin
At last, the extremes
of his present methods
seemed to offer
the happiest avenues.
Poem, Look This Way
Xue Du, Poem
A woman in a black kimono dyed black hair
disappeared behind a black curtai
Behind the War On Women
Pilar Fraile Amador
© 2022 NarrativeNortheast™
Powered by Wordpress. Designed by Themnific