With fists, with words, with kindness
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Guess which of your organs recognize it. Guess whether it is welcomed to their temples. Guess how it figures in their prayers. Guess how completely you become what you eat. Guess how soon.
One good thing has come out of this: as the food gets worse and the decrees more severe, the acts of sabotage against the authorities are increasing.
It is impossible to be a human being connected by affection to others and not be vulnerable to pains beyond our own.
We need always to be thinking and writing about poverty, for if we are not among its victims its reality fades from us. We must talk about poverty, because people insulated by their own comfort lose sight of it.
Eschew blandness. Eschew causing others pain. We are all the target so wear bright colors and dance with those you love.
I dream of a hard and brutal mysticism in which the naked self merges with a nonhuman world and yet somehow survives still intact, individual, separate. Paradox and bedrock.
She spoke to me. I know it was Her. I have no words with which to tell you how sure I am that it was the Mother. Trust me.
A Poem for Barack Obama’s Presidential Inauguration
The modern growth of monopolies in the shape of trusts, cartels, federations of employers and so on has greatly increased the power of the capitalist to levy toll on the community. This tendency will not cease of itself, but only through definite action on the part of those who do not profit by the capitalist regime.
There was once a Jew who had been wandering for hundreds of years in search of his death.