Daily haiku: Trams – Riders live and die/ Warmth turns to cold turns to warmth/ They loop on unfazed
Ok, my travel companion and I didn’t get physically hurt and no objects were stolen from us. But our sanity was temporarily stolen, or lost, or both. I had never felt so wretched while traveling, and I do travel quite a bit. Bad karma, or something, hit us at that point and there was nothing we could do to stop it, until whatever it was the universe was doing ran its course. And what I describe in this post was just the beginning of a very, uh, strange and see-sawing experience in Morocco.
Daily haiku: Us – The first shy flowers/ Peeked out the frozen ground white/ Turning red in spring
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The music of this Congolese singer-songwriter turned out to be deeply relatable to me: musically, it reminded me of the instantly-cheerfulness-inducing Caribbean rhythms I had grown up around in Miami (I am thankful for transnational transfers); sentimentally, one of his songs, especially, gave a close description of a romantic situation I thought I was living with someone at the time.
”Flower Child’ is simply a tribute to my beloved daughter, Gia, who, with her love of music from the 1960’s and her free-spirited outlook on life, would have been entirely comfortable in that era! I often write about people and places I know, but strive to keep my work relatable and universal. It is common for mothers and daughters, I believe, to have differences of opinion and temperament, but these differences are celebrated in this little poem, and the underlying theme is love and acceptance.”