Father’s Day Contest: The Winner!
This image is poetic in its use of allusions. One recognizes Obama solely from the nape of his neck and his posture, and his protective arm is draped over a younger hooded figure. This is really good visual storytelling about a president who insists on the importance of fathers. The image refers to very specific people, but it’s phrased as a statement about every father’s desire to protect his children. I also saw in it a reference to this wall, a nice touch.
Source: blowncovers
Dialogue that just writes itself. Or: my Monday AM twitter feed.
Check the Willy Shakes enjambment too.
You see, I kept a copy of the cassette of License to Ill hidden in my sock drawer. It had been banned in my house—this was the height of the PMRC hysteria, and I think Newsweek had written a story about the Beastie Boys and Public Enemy (I’d fall hard for them a few years later), and it was announced that I could NOT buy their album.
So, of course, I did (hi mom), and I’d listen to it every day on my cassette boombox, volume turned down to almost nothing, my ear pressed against the speaker, mouthing the lyrics as my bedroom turned into a jungle and a sea and a land full of monsters and I was their king.
Source: sinker
The ideal memorial is written from distance, a generous calculation of merit that proceeds honorably without abandoning accuracy. I have to apologize right now for being unable to give you that—Adam Yauch was a part of my childhood, an ambassador to America from our New York, which is now gone, as is he
(via May Day Around the World - In Focus - The Atlantic)
Catching up on what I missed. These photos are amazing. Even these hipster protestors.
Source: The Atlantic
It was not natural. And she was the first…
A poet can read. A poet can write.
A poet is African in Africa, or Irish in Ireland, or French on the left bank of Paris, or white in Wisconsin. A poet writes in her own language. A poet writers of her own people, her own history, her own vision, her own room, her own house where she sits at her own table quietly placing one word after another word until she builds a line and a movement and an image and a meaning that somersaults all of these into the singing, the absolutely individual voice of the poet: at liberty. A poet is somebody free. A poet is someone at home.
How should there be Black poets in America?
-June Jordan, The Difficult Miracle of Black Poetry in America
This the epigraph to Adrienne Rich’s essay, ‘History Stops for No One’ in her collection, What Is Found There. I picked this book up again 3 weeks ago to reread days before she died. I can’t stop reading it. You should read it too.
Old Man In Nursing Home Reacts To Hearing Music From His Era (by ncaavideos2)
“To be alive: not just the carcass
But the spark.
That’s crudely put, but…
If we’re not supposed to dance,
Why all this music?”—Gregory Orr
Source: youtube.com
Wiki: “Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, California, Georgia, Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, New Hampshire, North Carolina, North Dakota, Ohio, Oklahoma, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, West Virginia, Wisconsin and Wyoming have adopted Castle Doctrine statutes, and other states (Iowa, Nebraska, Virginia, and Washington) are currently considering Stand Your Ground laws of their own.”
By Mr. Fish.
Source: kateoplis
