A Poem Is A Cup Of Words

You Know, Those Of Us Who Leave Our Homes In The Morning And Expect To Find Them There When We Go Back - It's Hard For Us To Understand What The Experience Of A Refugee Might Be Like.

I Do Think That All Of Us Think In Poems.

I Am Looking For The Human Who Admits His Flaws Who Shocks The Adversary By Being Kinder Not Stronger What Would That Be Like? We Don't Even Know

If Someday, In A Morning, You See You, In A Mirror Or The Dent Of A Spoon, And Wonder Where Is My Soul And Where Has It Gone, Remember This: Catch The Gaze Of A Woman On The Metro, Subway, Tram. Look At A Man. Seek And You Will Find You In The Silvered Space, A Flash Between Souls.

Let Me Peer Out At The World Through Your Lens. (maybe I'll Shudder, Or Gasp, Or Tilt My Head In A Question.) Let Me See How Your Blue Is My Turquoise And My Orange Is Your Gold. Suddenly Binary Stars, We Have Startling Gravity. Let's Compare Scintillation - Let's Share Starlight.