In my enthusiasms pages turn thick
...
Friday, 13 February 2015
Friday, 6 February 2015
Today he was pacing back and forth, dragging his fingers in the dirt and glancing at the people.
Last year, he'd sat there like a stuffed trophy.
Jim, John and I yelled and threw peanuts, a handful of which sold for a nickel from a glass dispenser by the guardrails. When some of the nuts hit him, he picked them up one by one with a hand way too big for the job, but then he delicately picked off the shell with his fingertips, popped...
Friday, 30 January 2015
one day the ground crumbles
the streets of stability split and
separate you
and me
and we stand at different poles
not tethered by power lines or sewage pipes and i feel
alone
despite the enormous sea
the enormous city engulfing me
and i wonder what the weather’s like on your side
and i wonder what i’m missing out on because i crossed over
and crossed back to what i once left behind
where are you? where are we?
across, over,...
Friday, 23 January 2015
A tolerant democracy
allows self-full, bloated poets
to hide in a university
sneering at the workings of the world,
secure in the protective cloak of tenure.
Once poets' voices raised the call
for freedom, other great causes.
Now most wallow in comforts
mumbling impotent objections
to current events
beyond their comprehension.
- Gary Beck
Tennis-playing, ditch-digging, salvage-diving writer with a penchant for poetry. Explore his impressive repetoire of poems, short stories, novels, plays,...
Tuesday, 30 September 2014
by Alan Swyer
“When are we going
to have lunch?” Nadia asks for the third time in the last ten minutes.
“We'll be leaving
for dinner right away,” my father replies as he's done twice before, his
patience clearly wearing thin.
We're seated in
the living room of their apartment in Boynton Beach, Florida, a nicely
decorated place that only mildly suggests that it's part of an assisted living
facility.
“Why won't you let
me have lunch?” Nadia pleads a moment later, her face showing signs of
confusion rather than hunger.
I like...
Saturday, 6 September 2014
Artwork by Michael O (featured on www.hashthemag.tumblr.com)
Clay-eyed and metal-skinned executioners
breaking the body of the earth,
machinery rattling through the night,
workers aged by the wars of profit.
One man stands alone,
dreaming of an ending.
It’s happening,
all around.
-Janelle Rainer
Janelle Rainer is a 24-year-old poet and community college teacher living in Colville, Washington. Her...
Tuesday, 26 August 2014
Welcome to the featured poet series at SLASH! In this series, we interview spoken word artists of any age, any background, from anywhere in the world. We feature established poets alongside students and writers who are just beginning to hone their spoken word skills. Read on to learn about a brilliant writer and member of the HASH staff, Ariel Chu!
photograph by Sam Jeong
Name: Ariel Chu
Age: 18
Location: Eastvale, California
1. How did...
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