Poetry asks people to have values, form opinions, care about some other part of experience besides making money and being successful on… — Toi Derricotte Copy Share Image
These are the stories of travelers on a spiritual quest between worlds. Part mythmaker, part poet, Omar Castaeda is an original, and… — Toi Derricotte Copy Share Image
“My Father Still Sleeping After Surgery In spite of himself, my father loved me. In spite of the hands that beat me,… — Toi Derricotte Copy Share Image
“A picture in a book, a lynching. The bland faces of men who watch a Christ go up in flames, smiling, as… — Toi Derricotte Copy Share Image
“Poem for My Father You closed the door. I was on the other side, screaming. It was black in your mind. Blacker… — Toi Derricotte Copy Share Image
Poetry asks people to have values, form opinions, care about some other part of experience besides making money and being successful on the job. — Toi Derricotte Copy Share Image
These are the stories of travelers on a spiritual quest between worlds. Part mythmaker, part poet, Omar Castaeda is an original, and these stories… — Toi Derricotte Copy Share Image
“-----What is more punished among the angry than anger? among the unsatisfied than desire? among the hate-filled than hate? among the frightened than fear? ” — Toi Derricotte Copy Share Image
“My Father Still Sleeping After Surgery In spite of himself, my father loved me. In spite of the hands that beat me, in spite… — Toi Derricotte Copy Share Image
“Violence is central in our lives, a constant and unavoidable reality. Experience is not a linear construct moving from one point to another -… — Toi Derricotte Copy Share Image
The job of the artist is not to resolve or beautify, but to hold complexities, to see and make clear. — Toi Derricotte Copy Share Image
“A picture in a book, a lynching. The bland faces of men who watch a Christ go up in flames, smiling, as if he… — Toi Derricotte Copy Share Image
I hate it when, after I let a white person know they've said something racist, I end up having to listen for hours to… — Toi Derricotte Copy Share Image
“Poem for My Father You closed the door. I was on the other side, screaming. It was black in your mind. Blacker than burned-out… — Toi Derricotte Copy Share Image
