Words cannot express

When I lost my mother tongue I gave up my otherness It was important to me, once, I thought, to be different, to Avoid  the chameleon cloak of Conformity, the pull of belonging. When I lost my native language, I gave up the tribe to which I Was born, where I belong is Here, reflected…

Anagrams

Language, well at least until it succumbed to being written, was an unseen organism of communication. In its seen form it can be in black and white or colored print, and may have started as pictograms but has evolved over time. Language, whether in writing or spoken, is an evolving tool whose changes can be…

My establishing shot

This would be my establishing shot The one that sets the place and the Character, facing Roosevelt Island, Connecting to Queens, the lights on The bridge twinkling in twilight, Shadows, the river deep, dark and Mysterious, waters moving slowly With undercurrents, the river establishes Without irony, without self-parody, as Serious as the approaching night, shadows, Not…

Quiet and peaceful

Sitting as old men do Holding court with Memories, sharing both Wisdom and nonsense From a life fully lived Yet far from complete Never accepting blame or Regrets, but sitting in Tranquility, peaceful Still yet like the river with An undercurrent, there is News mixing with opinions All that need to be expressed And heard….

Do you remember this?

I have expunged so much and so many from my recollection When they come creeping in, it’s on ghost feet Sometimes I welcome the newly remembered Sometimes I dread the associations they bring me Some memories amuse, others confuse, some Simply disabuse me of my moral superiority, I Have not served truth or justice, not…

The album

We will never be this young again We always knew that, but didn’t Believe it, until one day, looking At pictures of how we were, when   We were that young, smiling photos, The happiness blended with youth, We had to confess that time had Passed, happily and with the stealth   Of time slipping…

Politics will do me in

On Thursday afternoon, last week, I read three New Yorker articles about Jared and the Russians, tweeted them out, and felt no relief from OATS (thank you for the term of use, @JohnCassidy) 

Revival

Some six months ago, I shut down one of my many blogs, Observations: Lest I Forget  and transferred much of its content to this one. I fully intended to put new content here and leave the …Lest I Forget site to history. Truth is, I have a lot about which I wish to opine, and…

Mirror image

Mirrors, like memory, both reflect and distort The image fuzzy or clear, made larger or smaller As we do in remembering slights and complements In complimenting our past, we look as thtough a Glass at what was or might have been equally both Reflected and distorted, sometimes larger, sometimes Smaller, behind us and ahead, never…

Smiley face!

My history with smiling is fraught. As a teen, I presented dour and had teachers telling me to smile at every turn of the corridors. Despite the presentation, I am actually a very happy type. Imagine my delight when my husband discovered an emoji in our wash basin. His delight was even greater, but he…