We can’t be friends. We’ve been spoken for by the Universe, a power so knowing, so undeniable - it is beyond our combined scope. We can spend days by the ocean, skipping stones and flicking cigarettes but we know separation like we know regret; how inevitable it is, how looming it is. The wind blows, a wave crashes and I turn to you, your body rich in color, irises the shade of emeralds, hair in a messy ponytail; a vibe so unfamiliar. I remember when I couldn’t look away. “What do you think happens when we die?” ...
Tuesday, 29 July 2014
Monday, 21 July 2014
What if you could step into the shoes of one of your most beloved icons at one of those crucial moments in their lives that end up defining them forever? Adam Ashraf braves these murky waters, venturing into the mind of the eternally fascinating Truman Capote on the eve of one such moment...
My publisher just hand-delivered a copy of my new novel that will hit the racks next week- In Cold Blood, by Truman Capote. Me – cold-blooded...
Thursday, 10 July 2014
Hello, spoken word poets! Here’s SLASH’s very first
spoken word prompt. In the coming weeks, you’ll see more in-depth features about
identity, activism, and spoken word. For now, I’d like to offer a quick prompt
to make you think about how you can use the medium. SLASH is an educational
column and it should be a conversation among readers and performers, so I want
to see what you can do.
Spoken word’s immediacy and vitality allow spoken
word artists to make very personal performances. It’s essentially storytelling
and storytelling can be...
Friday, 4 July 2014
Digital painting by Falk
Is this a common courtesy,
Alive in only me?
Where once it was that thriving pulse in every vain,
A common place,
But with a societal pace,
So easily did die away?
Red,
And rose,
And chose-
To leave a door unopened,
A chair pulled in,
A glass of wine replaced with rum,
And beer,
And sunsets of a fruity tinge?
Or...
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