Another TV interview about the awesome power of music!
Songs, TV and other media help us learn foreign languages. Hip-hop music can keep at-risk kids in school and out of trouble.
The multilingual, multicultural online journal and community of arts and ideas. There's a heaven above you, baby.
Another TV interview about the awesome power of music!
Songs, TV and other media help us learn foreign languages. Hip-hop music can keep at-risk kids in school and out of trouble.
by James Schwartz I was such a queer thing, Even growing up. Sexuality is not a choice, Listen to my femme voice, Even throwing up… I was such a disco boy, Spinning through school, Twirling in my first disco. The Seahorse Cabaret 2. Indiana 2 a.m. He stares at me and smiles… [...]
by James Schwartz To my birthday boy on his twenty-eighth. On August thirty-first, Two Thousand Eight. I present to you my poetic faith. A man of your own ideals: gay or str8. To my longtime muse I present a toast. May your year be of wine, roses and song. May your year be [...]
ANCIENT AZTEC POEM All the earth is a grave and nothing escapes it, nothing is so perfect that it does not descend to its tomb. Rivers, rivulets, fountains and waters flow, but never return to their joyful beginnings; anxiously they hasten on the vast realms of the rain god. As they widen their banks, they [...]
by James Schwartz 1.) I have been wrong before. Finding silence at the door. Slumped over in defeat. Forgetting my frantic feet. 2.) I have been right as rain. Reeling, dealing carried pain. Years ago, on this day. Mother was sent away. 3.) No more would I ever play. Another Mother gone away. Such [...]
I’ve recently been informed by Continuum that Blake and Kierkegaard: Creation and Anxiety is scheduled to be published in paperback in October of 2011. Thanks to all who have ordered library or personal copies of my book.
DUST We will meet Someday for the last time and won’t even know it (Paula Marie Deubel (P. Mari) from Poems of Love and Madness, copyright 2005 Archangel & White Feather Press, GraveStar@inorbit.com)
Morning rounds, chasing phantom art alarms, poltergeist startled smoke detectors, hand radio crackling. “Cleopatra Clear.” I call Control. “Asian Art Another Ghengis Con.” Byzantine Banshees … Gothic Ghosts … Spectral Sanctum Phantasmagoria … I slip through light and shadow, down the corridors of dream, past the doorways of delirium, along the labyrinths of time, amidst [...]
by James Schwartz On Somalia Poets we must scorch our tongues. Though burnt colors burn.