I knew as soon as I saw the glorious morning sun rear its beautiful face from behind the trees that I would not see you Not today The exchange was natural and I accepted it Not gladly I feel the laws of the universe And how much one soul can handle in one day how much light one pair of eyes can absorb and it … Continue reading Sun

The evening walk, the mother and the town

Cover photo by Jora Vaso – Tirana, Albania The evening walk I walk along the street in the city of memory and dreams I hear Taylor Swift from the favorite neighborhood meatball joint I laugh Ridiculous I think I quickly forget as I hear behind me a beautiful older Chinese couple arguing I laugh Immediately I think In one week I leave My mother won’t … Continue reading The evening walk, the mother and the town

Goodbye Summer: Poems by Derek Walcott and Zbigniew Herbert

The bitter end of summer. The sun, predictably leaving us, yet still cruelly, like a lover we’re not yet ready to relinquish. Selfish, narcissistic, too confident we’ll be waiting. Wiser than us. Leaving a fire behind, now only waiting to go out as we struggle to prematurely forget, all too ready to throw our overwhelming feelings to the wind. The sun should have turned them … Continue reading Goodbye Summer: Poems by Derek Walcott and Zbigniew Herbert

My long journey to Paterson

I meant to sit down and write about many other movies. “Moonlight”, for instance, made me experience stomach pangs unlike any I had felt in a while and that, indeed, I had forgotten. I was there with the characters during the long, tension-filled, concluding scene, feeling their fear, hesitation, shame, resolve to go through with what they must. It tired me but, in the end, … Continue reading My long journey to Paterson

One hundred and some lines

Above, Paul Cézanne's Leda and the Swan

Below, a personal reflection that rings true and universal. Especially on this day, an hour before Donald Trump begins his presidency, instead of changing our profile photos, tweeting our loss of hope, crying publicly over Obama and, overall, taking pleasure and indulging in our "despair", these lines reminded me that we can also think about how we got here. To take a gentle, perhaps scary step back rather than run aggressively, blindly forward. Although there are no clear answers, in the lines of this poem or elsewhere, for that matter, there is something to be said about pointing fingers everywhere, equally, indiscriminately and being truthful with ourselves.

Continue reading "One hundred and some lines"