Thursday, October 27, 2016

it felt like a hope

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eTCWlnyx8vw


My Mother's Dreams in Wartime

The world burns before our eyes,
and the smell of everything red
is on our skin.
We wait in line for bread
that never comes. We speak
to strangers thinking they will
tell us where our lives are.
We pray in the barracks
and the fields for the miracle
of hope.

____________________________

The author's mother survived more than 2 years in various labor and concentration camps in Germany.  She never thought she would.

Much of the writing in his book Echoes of Tattered Tongues describe her struggle to keep going.


John Gruzowlski


Monday, September 12, 2016

words for the newest art,within these walls,informed by the book about death row in Huntsville,Texas prison

he who fits the song together


“The journey is the thing.” (Homer)

“Each man delights in the work that suits him best.” (HomerThe Odyssey)

a place for nobody
a land more kind than home
a Nobody
for a silent reading in the wind










within these walls,7'x6',mixed on canvas