by Orna Ross | Nov 14, 2010 | POETRY |
By Lucille Clifton. why is what i ask myself maybe it is the afrikan in me still trying to get home after all these years but when I wake to the heat of morning galloping down the highway of my life something hopeful rises in me rises and runs me out into the road and...
by Orna Ross | Oct 31, 2010 | POETRY |
In the amber of a late October, altered by illness and a mauling from friends, we have come again to London, and come one to the other, in truth, it seems, for the first time in twenty-something years. These are our days. Above, white lines from Heathrow streak the...
by Orna Ross | Oct 21, 2010 | POETRY |
“How shall I be a poet? How shall I write in rhyme? You told me once ‘the very wish Partook of the sublime.' Then tell me how! Don't put me off With your ‘another time'!” — “And would you be a poet Before you've been to school? Ah,...
by Orna Ross | Sep 28, 2010 | POETRY |
Her name? Her name is Generose, here is how her story flows: through the latest news of war our ruler coming out to say ‘Bombs Again!' Though his minions' mincing words, force-feeding what ‘we' need to do, and why, (with regret) some evil people (and some...
by Orna Ross | Sep 3, 2010 | POETRY |
Here is a small poem about a big subject: Listen, my parents, the grasses are crawling, the trees are all thrumming. Soon, birds won’t be able to sing. Listen. Hear me. Our time is for turning. If the old ways don’t die, we can’t win. * Listen, my children: our...