I gave up on new poetry myself 30 years ago when most of it began to read like coded messages passing between lonely aliens in a hostile world.
When I tried to play something and screwed up I'd hear some other note that would come into play. Then I started trying different things to find the beauty in it.
The worst advice I ever received from my dad was to play by the book.
Madam C. J. Walker (1867-1919) was “the first Black woman...
It may be that which we call a rose by any other name would smell as...
True beauty is something that attacks, overpowers, robs, and finally...
