CANDICE LOUISA DAQUIN

from INDIE BLU(E)

INDIE BLU(E)

candice daquin

Daquin’s own life, traveling from her native France, via England, Canada and finally the US, has brought a myriad of experiences that others have often been able to tap into via her writing. A collection of lives really, and with this, she tries to weave greater meaning through poetry and touch those who experience similar questions, doubts, and hopes. Surely this is what writing attempts in its very human form?

Daquin’s themes include feminism in its complex, everyday form, and the experience of being a woman, a gay woman, a bi-racial woman, a bi-cultural woman and finally, a Jewish woman of Egyptian extraction (Mizrahi) and how this sits with the world’s current revolt between the dominant faiths.

“I have been told from readers of my published and non-published works that reading poetry which resonates with your emotions, helps you see things clearer, assists in remembering what really matters and enables you…

View original post 564 more words

IOTD …. “🇵🇷 Images of the Day, Special Edition …. ‘Mi Bandera, My Flag …. Around the Island, #24 …. 🇵🇷 …. “!!

Remember #PuertoRico

It Is What It Is

MyFlagimg_9017RedLineBimg_9036img_9048img_9049RedLineB#IOTD #ImagesOfTheDay #VerySpecialEdition #24 #DearBloggerFriend #HerOwnWords #Concept #Serious #PuertoRico #MyCountry #MiPatria #MyFlag #MiBandera #MyPride #MiOrgullo #AroundTheIsland

#WeAllAreOne #ItIsWhatItIs #DrRex #HortyRex #hrexach

ImagesMeWeOneimg_6356-3

View original post

An Hypnosis of The Soul

A mash-up made from The Electric Sheep Archives.

The soundtrack is The Forgotten People by The Thievery
Corporation from Radio Retaliation

For more about Electric Sheep visit the internet archives

Electric Sheep is a distributed computing project for animating and evolving fractal flames, which are in turn distributed to the networked computers, which display them
as a screensaver.

The Electric Sheep Archives

Featured image, ‘An Hypnosis of the Soul’ (c) Rob Goldstein 2018

Mother, You Need Shoes

I would not have noticed her had the subway car not cleared
of people at Lexington Avenue.

She removed a tattered stocking cap and stuffed it
into a grimy army jacket.

She held a smudged white bag between her legs.

She reached into it and pulled out half a doughnut.

That was when I noticed her shoes.

The uppers had split from the soles; she wrapped
her feet in newspaper and rags.

I thought, Mother,  you need shoes.

I wondered if forty dollars would do.

I looked up and watched her untangle a lock of
matted grey hair.

She reached into her bag and found a bobby pin.

She styled the lock of hair into a bun

I had forty dollars.

It was for vitamins; specifically, anti-oxidants.

My body was rusting faster than a wet Ford.

The crows feet around my eyes whispered: erase us; your
happiness demands our absence.

I examined the old woman’s cracked and broken shoes;
they were useless for January in New York.

She closed her eyes, as if ready to savor a long warm ride.

Maybe she lives in the subway, I thought, like those people
in the documentary,  Dark Days.

If she never leaves the subway she doesn’t need new shoes!

My crow’s-feet said, ’Yes!’

But that can’t be right, I thought; an old woman, alone, with
nothing but a stale doughnut for dinner.

I saw myself stand, and watched as I took two twenties out
of my wallet.

Then I knelt and said, “Mother, you need shoes.”

She opened her eyes and smiled at me and
nodded in agreement.

“Will forty dollars do?”

“Yes,” she said, “God bless you.”

I gave her the money and returned to my seat, and
listened as my crow’s-feet maliciously threatened
to deepen and spread.

 

Rob Goldstein (c) 2014-2018 All Rights Reserved
First published 5/29/16
Revised 4/7/18

 

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save