A Blog of Seattle Arts & Lectures
Time is how flowers grow slow. Time is how flowers die fast. Time is a fox that used to be a cat. Time is the past that used to be the future. Time used to be a clock. Time is a frog dancing on a cat....
At 24 mile creek you can see the sea. The ocean is right to me. In the forest we chatter and have fun and datter and tell puns. Within the dock without a lock, adrift upon the sea, where will I go wha...
I don’t quite know where I’m from who I was, or what I did, but now I am The One: The Kid The Mystery The Storm The Lightning The Clouds The Sun The Moon The Stars The Luck The Good The Bad The Sa...
At 8 years old I sat in the corner Knees to my face not making a noise Sent there due to my “disorder” When I said I liked a boy That three-letter phrase Set my world ablaze For this is just the s...
I stare up into the clouds and grieve the world that we have lost I plead with mother Earth to return to her warm and welcoming grasp as I lay there dirt rubbing against my skin I wish to be returned ...
The sun beats down, hot as fire, as hatred burns with a fierce desire. The olive trees weep, their branches low, as death and destruction continue to grow. They now stand as silent witnesses to this l...
I like red, and I like birds, and I like red birds. So, I like flying. So do birds. I don’t like worms. Birds do. So, I will look for birds sometimes. This poem was written by Kingston Jackso...
On the other side of the door, I can hear you crying– and there is something so obscurely beautiful in watching a star collapse before my eyes. Erosion. Implosion. Explosion.
This comic was made by Avery Brown, as a 6th grader at Renaissance School of Art and Reasoning with WITS Writer-in-Residence David Lasky, performed at our SAL Presents event with Oliver Jeffers...
I have a name, but not one representative in its nature. You humans refer to it with these multi-syllable menageries called pheromones, symbolic as inaccessible to most fine creatures on this earth, b...