Elsa Gidlow: Despair
I can laugh now.
Have you not heard my laughter?
It leads the winds:
They come tumbling and bubbling after.
Elsa Gidlow: Chance
Strange that a single white iris
Given carelessly one slumbering spring midnight
Should be the first of love,
Yet life is written so.
Elsa Gidlow: Constancy
My sister, I keep faith with love, not lovers.
Elsa Gidlow: A Happy Song
Heaped sweets and a treasure
For a new sin to play with,
To pass a night and day with––
Heaped sweets for a pleasure.
Joe Kadi | Good Poetry: A Force To Be Reckoned With
As soon as I became an activist, as soon as I connected with Arabs and feminists and queers and folks with disabilities and poor people fighting to re-make the world, poetry demanded my attention.
Elsa Gidlow: I Come With My Songs
An excerpt from Elsa Gidlow’s autobiography: . . . that house on Redwood Road in Fairfax, Marin County, became mine by the Winter Solstice of 1940. I called it “Madrona”. … Continue reading
