Showing posts from March, 2012

Songs of Youth

Passion was set on a rainy afternoon
to the music of Offenbach.
The curve of her back ached for
touch - he called it his Stradivarius.
When rain whispered its last drops
down the window, she turned
her lips to meet his smile.
This would be the moment to
remember by the favorite songs
of their youth - where
fields of gold met happy together.

Social Strip Search

Employers checking a candidate's social presence instead of their resumes has been in the news before. For folks like myself who make a concerted effort not to have any kind of social presence, it could put  us out of the running for the position. There is an opportunity cost to keeping your privacy these days - be it a job or a getting the best prices at the grocery store. Resumes are tedious things - I can't stand mine and am amazed at anyone who can read through it. I have never come across one that got me excited about the candidate to the point that I wanted to meet and chat with them. I love to hear about someone from current or former co-workers who can't stop raving about them, bosses who say they would love to have them back and so on. You are intrigued and want to meet this person and see if there is mutual interest. This is social presence too but there are real people involved in the process and that makes all the difference. It is completely different than doing…

Honing A Craft

It is a slow Sunday morning and we don't have any plans for the day. DB, J and I are fighting the remnants of a cold that has knocked us out to varying degrees in the past week. I happened by the NYT as I do on some Sundays and read this essay by Jhumpa Lahiri that was ever so perfect for my mood today. Her devotion to perfecting her craft is palpable in every sentence. It seems to me, pieces like this one reveal Lahiri's personality so much more than her autobiographical novels. Without having shared anything about her life, she is able to spark curiosity - a reader wants to know more about her and how her mind works.  She writes "I hear sentences as I’m staring out the window, or chopping vegetables, or waiting on a subway platform alone. They are pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, handed to me in no particular order, with no discernible logic. I only sense that they are part of the thing." I know for a fact that I will remember these lines when I look out the window of t…


They shiver like birds caught in 
sudden winter rain.
The day is warm and her skin
feverish against aubergine silk.
This will be the time when
things past will collide with
that which is yet to come.
The moment will flee them
like it never happened.