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There are more than 200 results, only the first 200 are displayed here.
now because of you kneeling .. beside me, thumbing the scarred leather .. of the little mass-book your grandmother .. hid at the back of her Protestant linen-press
when I get there driving through the night rain's sheen .. I come on myself already asleep in the bed .. mouth ajar head resting on one elbow .. drawing off gloves I bend down .. to look more closely. I see my face ...
It is harder to write poetry .. when you are rich ... People in Haiti are dead .. dying, grieving, .. starving and hunting for loved ones, .. and if they have the energy .. looting the few things left. .. Do I really believe .. that mine is yours, my friend?
Black stumps, capped with snow — no, capped with lime, beside the road, tree ferns, fanning their wing in the sun. A sign: children crossing. The road is so large. The CFA building, those three letters almost the three sides of a cross.
the sweat-shiny, blackened men .. whose households were regulated by the whistle .. they woke or slept by. The BHP, like a bulker tethered .. amidst chimney stacks and luffing cranes .. to a bollard on the Hunter
A Japanese homeless man was sending the most exquisite poems to a popular newspaper. There is nothing extraordinary about a person experiencing homelessness producing great poetry. Yet the scenario was regarded with astonishment. October 2009
Aside from a few fanatical poverty-deniers, there is a broad consensus that we have a serious problem. Frantz Fanon reminded us nearly 50 years ago that we need a redistribution of wealth. 'Humanity must reply to this question, or be shaken to pieces by it.' We have been shaken to pieces.
late for a volley of meetings. Not much conversation. Same haircut, suits, even boots ... The older man is lethal. 'I can make things hard for you, much harder than you can for me.'
193-200 out of 200 results.