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There are more than 200 results, only the first 200 are displayed here.
David Gilmour’s latest album, Luck and Strange, emerges as a meditative masterpiece, steeped in themes of time, mortality, and the currents of life. With Gilmour’s unmistakable playing style, the album channels the introspection of an artist reflecting on paths taken and those left behind.
After a stunning defeat, Kamala Harris urged Americans not to despair even though as Trump returns to the White House, the Democrats face a harsh reckoning. Beyond the star-studded stages and celebrity endorsements, the real work lies in understanding the voters they overlooked and finding a way back to them.
Guildenstern and Rosencrantz find themselves deep in conversation on a sunny November afternoon, questioning the troubling climate of modern power. Can reason stand in a world so ready to yield?
If only those who send their nation’s youth to war would read Muse of Fire, World War I as seen Through the Lives of the Soldier Poets. It is both homage and horror story. It carries the reader across several fronts – the disparate journeys that led these men to the killing fields of Europe, the blood-soaked chrysalis from which the words of the war poets arose.
The grief of Hamish’s death shaped the words and, slowly, the words shaped the grief. Both shifted a gear in me, and in how the world is viewed. This is natural when an axis is tilted. Some look to grief to be healed, but this, to me, for me, is the wrong word.
How do you try to turn a human into something less than human? You take away their voice. The Taliban in Afghanistan have recently introduced new laws that ban women’s voices and faces in public, continuing the extreme subjugation of half the Afghan population.
Good poetry stops us in our tracks, visited as we are by whatever it is that has stopped the poet in his tracks. This agency may properly be, as in Walcott's case, something stemming from cultural marginality, from a fascination with the dramatic, from an equipoise between the lyrical and the epical, or from the interweaving of all these. (From the Eureka Street archives)
In my part of the world, the earth has begun to awaken from its winterlong sleep. The colours of the day are changing and the earth and its attendant branches of family are blooming into beauty.
I envy the dead / Their vague vantage point / the calm repose, almost smug, Their fail-less future / Their limitless horizon / Untrapped in time. Like you, looking down / From that faded fridge photo, With a kid clinging on either side. / Such a tight entity. A smile like no other.
In a world driven by profit and speed, poetry stands as a quiet rebellion. It honours and explores what is distinctive about human beings – communication through words. And if we dismiss as a waste of time the slower rhythms involved in the writing and reading of poetry, we are likely to discover how time spent unreflectively wastes us.
Conforming and belonging to a genre, in this case, ‘post-colonial, outback noir eco-fiction’, does not mean that a novel is not worthy. With rich symbolism and lyrical prose, Hills challenges readers to confront uncomfortable truths about Australian history, land ownership, and the inescapable consequences of past actions.
Lewis Lapham's work was a rigorous autopsy of American culture, exposing the chasm between our pretensions and our realities. With a historian’s depth and a satirist’s wit, he illuminated the follies that sustain our collective delusions.
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