“Ode to King,” by Qes McCord
June 4, 2024
I have a dream- I have a dream that little black boys and girls will grow up to see their beauty. That they will understand that black is beautiful- That Black is not aggressive, and Black is not viol...
SAL/ON
A Blog of Seattle Arts & Lectures
Category: 2023/24 Season
The Launch of Summer Book Bingo 2024!
May 24, 2024
Summer is in the air! This week, we launched our 10th year of Summer Book Bingo, a free, community program brought to you by Seattle Arts & Lectures and The Seattle Public Library. To celebrate th...
“Here’s to… (A Shout-out Poem),” by Delilah Gregory
May 22, 2024
Here’s to the best things to the lemon Hi-chews to the yellows and blues to the spring day to the weather today! to Tootsie Pops to tiny little shops to Ratatouille to Toy Story 3 to weird-looki...
“The Me I Hold Inside My Heart,” by Eka Bhuyan
May 9, 2024
She is a goddess She is cool ranch Doritos and barbecue lays There is spice on her breath and a song on her lips She is bold Sharpie She’s got a heart of cheese and masala blood She is sugar and spi...
“Ego Vibes,” by Nemo Trice
May 2, 2024
My light is so bright people can’t see it’s so fast that it could go down to the deepest depths of the ocean all the way to Japan your head is expanding like a balloon full of my words what I writ...
“this spring,” by Aamina Mughal
April 25, 2024
you let spring make you lazy, it seeps like honey into your bones until they’re heavy and sinking like grand ships with holes in their hulls. spring makes ruins of you. you watch the sunrise over a ...
“Ode to Loss,” by Ryan Thich
April 2, 2024
I forget your love hurts How others forget death To say these blurry motions of mines Aren’t of my heavy eyes, even I forget dreams exist at night It’s your starry eyes, blue skin Blue lips, still...
“Trees,” by Qes McCord
March 28, 2024
“Inheritance,” by Janae Lu
You ask me what I will inherit, You want the easy answer—the kind I would have given you as a child When the glass was half full and full of fairytales, 3D printed hearts, primordial forests, Cars m...
“Silence is a limb,” by Fatra Hussein
March 14, 2024
My limbs go loose. Digging deeper and deeper into the earth. As if they are searching for food. My blood seeps out. I wince at the wound. It’s been there since I learned how to talk. It kept me sile...