Tag: Arts
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Sunday Prayer
Listening The goose cries, and there is no way to save her. So many cheeps come from the nest by the river. If God doesn’t listen, why are we listening? Very deep water covers most of the globe. Whenever I see it, I think of St. John. There is no remedy for deep water but…
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The Poetry Drone
Hector Tobar delves into the reasons behind poet David Shook ‘s Drone in the LA Times: The idea behind “The Poetry Drone” is to buy an actual flying drone — which can be had for as little as $5,000, Shook says — and fly it over some populated place and have the drone rain…
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Tuesday Prayer
I have spent my days stringing and unstringing my instrument, while the song I came to sing remains unsung. —Rabindranath Tagore –
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Seeking Solace in mysticism
ISLAMABAD: Tucked away in the library of Kuch Khaas, a group sat to dissect the poetry of 13th century Persian poet Rumi on Tuesday. Known as the “Mathnawi Circle”, the group members gather every week to read out and interpret select verses, forming a story, from “Mathnawi”, one of the sufi saint’s finest pieces. Shazray Hussain,…
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Try It – It Works!
This picture was taken with a camera 70,000 x 30,000 pixels (2100 MegaPixels). It can identify a face in a multitude. The cameras are not sold to the public and are being installed in strategic locations. (This one is in Canada) Place the cursor in the multitude of people and left double click a couple…
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The Poetry Quilt
Meyrem Hussain brings us a poignant article about “hundreds of scraps of materials and thousands of painstaking stitches… brought together in a six-month labour of love.” Women attending the Stuart Low Trust have just completed their ‘poetry quilt’ – a riot of colour with the compositions of 15 budding poets. The poems include a tale of…
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Sunday Prayer
New Songs The afternoon says: “I’m thirsty for shadow!” And the moon: “I want stars.” The crystal fountain asks for lips, the wind, for sighs. I’m thirsty for scents and for laughter. Thirsty for new songs without irises or moons, without dead loves. A morning song that can shiver quiet backwaters of the future and…
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Monday Prayer
Please Accept My Condo Her cell phone cut my deepest sympathies short. The fault of a patchy connection, she guessed, when she showed me days later and we laughed off our faces at my truncated text. I didn’t know her adequately to ask who she’d lost; we were barely close enough to suffer a telecommunicational…
The Village Market 