Friday, 13 July 2012
your sisters sister
My new favourite people shown above. If I could be anyone else, I would be any of these three. Please see the film. It is not only emotionally charged, it is as real as they come.
Tuesday, 10 July 2012
Sunday, 8 July 2012
Wednesday, 4 July 2012
The day we went to the sea
Tishani Doshi, poet from Madras
The day we went to the sea
mothers in Madras were mining
the Marina for missing children.
Thatch flew in the sky, prisoners
ran free, houses danced like danger
in the wind. I saw a woman hold
the tattered edge of the world
in her hand, look past the temple
which was still standing, as she was —
miraculously whole in the debris of gaudy
South Indian sun. When she moved
her other hand across her brow,
in a single arcing sweep of grace,
it was as if she alone could alter things,
bring us to the wordless safety of our beds.
mothers in Madras were mining
the Marina for missing children.
Thatch flew in the sky, prisoners
ran free, houses danced like danger
in the wind. I saw a woman hold
the tattered edge of the world
in her hand, look past the temple
which was still standing, as she was —
miraculously whole in the debris of gaudy
South Indian sun. When she moved
her other hand across her brow,
in a single arcing sweep of grace,
it was as if she alone could alter things,
bring us to the wordless safety of our beds.
Tuesday, 3 July 2012
Monday, 2 July 2012
Sunday, 1 July 2012
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