The fact that so many people don’t even see the use of poetry any more should be seen as a danger sign, no less than global warming.
And G-d / said, / Where is Man, / your brother?
Emily Dickinson (1830-1886), one of the finest American poets, lived most of her life as a recluse in the house of her parents. and published almost nothing during her lifetime. But she communicated with friends through intense, vivid letters and is said to have sent poems to neighbors with bread or flowers from her garden.
I want to do it. I want to be able to write a poem, as Esther suggests, saying ‘Count me in’. I want to be able to live by those words, and to find others holding ‘a thread of common destiny’ – other orthodox Jewish writers who write to make a difference in the world; who write as an expression of their soul’s higher purpose; who write to put a smile on God’s face.
I always have been on the Internet.
I’ve always, always had you in my head.
Don’t speak of it, holy readers, but know that there are corners of the internet inhabited by strange, ghoulish people without names or souls.
While it’s easy to comment on a post – all you do is type something and press ‘submit’ – actually commenting in a thoughtful way which is not just about massaging your own ego or ‘being seen to comment’ is actually way, way harder.
So why are we on the internet, anyway? Everyone knows that the Internet has been at best a mixed blessing. It is hard to imagine that any of the benefits it has brought could make up for the damage it has caused by placing so many temptations one click away in the absence of social Read more
The Internet is very draining. So many voices far and near. Arguing, coming on, complaining!
Poet Esther Cameron muses on the internet: Soul’s bulb, abandoned, shrinks; what thing gets growth?