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Graveyard Blues - Natasha Tretheway

Graveyard Blues

It rained the whole time we were laying her down;
Rained from church to grave when we put her down.
The suck of mud at our feet was a hollow sound. 153 more words


Mind Games

When media words—fake or otherwise—blare from angry people, I find myself reciting poetry. Four years ago, long before the swampy political landscape, I decided to fill my mind with loveliness. 198 more words



If I am looking for a lull or a reprieve from the world, Tretheway’s poetry is not the place to go. Her poems find expression not only because of her own mixed-race family roots, but because of her scholarly research into colonial art works depicting the mulattos and mestizos and those whom history has forgotten. 207 more words


In Copenhagen, I stand next to the bronze statue of Hans Christian Andersen whose fairy tales remain key childhood memories. My list of books to re-read in 2017 deal with memory. 142 more words

FMM 11 4 16 Evoking our Better Angels

“Peace is not unity in similarity but unity in diversity, in the comparison and conciliation of differences.”~Mikhail Gorbachev.

 One of the problems with growing up as a preacher’s child (parson pickney, in Jamaican terms) is the unrealistic expectation that somehow you will behave better than the average child.  989 more words


Dailies 10/25/16: household fires, hope's wild peregrinations, & trying to carry on after a mother's death

Household Fires – Jenny Drai 

First we burn the formal dresses, then a

boa of pale white feathers

Read rest of poem 

Imperatives for Carrying On in the Aftermath – … 68 more words