On Linton Kwesi Johnson
We ate corn porridge that morning, sipping tea watching the clubbers stumble into the street. It was milky sweet, the sugar gathered like caramel in... Read more →
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On Rex Ingamells
You know those moments that stick in your mind, that begin to take on another hue as if they were a film, the kind of blue that is thick and indigo,... Read more →
On Hegel
What is the building block of a book length poem? What was it for Gesar of Ling or Gilgamesh, Dante or Homer? This question is not the same as... Read more →
On Gilgamesh
I used to think that the dialectic that mattered was art and politics, mapping those common sense understandings onto superstructure and base, soft... Read more →
On Tarruru
Tarruru, I have met you. You are more than contentment, more than pleasure with terror, more than satisfaction, joy, beauty. Tarruru, I know you in... Read more →
On Coleridge
As a child, my mother’s parents lived with us, and my papa and I would read the paper together before school and watch television news afterwards,... Read more →
On Anonymous Authors
I have loved many works that bear no trace of who wrote them. These are books where the authors are anonymous. When I was last in Kerala, the land of... Read more →
Like Ganaji
They sat watching ganaji come in off the plain, jagged this way, sparking with flame. The thunder rolling, the clouds metallic-grey, that ganaji,... Read more →
In Defense of Poetry
It’s not the myth or the reason or the imagination. It’s not the history or the timing or the desire. It’s not the emotion or the logic or the... Read more →
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Return of the Beautiful Poems
All of us from time to time encounter a beautiful poem. Sometimes it is the poem of a teacher or someone we know, and sometimes it is a poem we have... Read more →
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