Dear readers,
I am trembling in my chair as I write this editorial. The news from Manchester and London shocked and hurt all of us. Teens and kids were targeted at a pop concert by terrorists. Diners out on a Saturday night They wanted to cow people by hate and fear. Yet, Manchester and London responded with the opposite: kindness, empathy, opening their doors, comforting the grieving, staying strong and staring into the face of terror.
It makes me wonder: what kind of fruits do we want to see in our lives? Not just physical delicious fruit growing on trees now, but the things we cultivate and nurture, the things we set in the soil of our psyches and let germinate. Even in the most adverse environment, we see plants bear fruit. A friend told me about a pomegranate tree in Western Australia that grows lush and produces fruit prodigiously year after year. The tree has set down her roots deep down into the earth, adapting to the land, and just living a joyous life. Strength during adversity.
Our poems explored the connotations of fruit in many ways. Love, relationships, the link between parent and child, hate, the things our parents leave inside us, genetic fruits gone bad. Be it the hedonistic and visceral nature of orange blood running down limbs, savoring love like heady and intoxicating fruit, or the bitterness of biting into memory or legacy, our poems are full of juice and pulp.
Linda M. Crate's poem is darkly delicious and poignant, looking at the joys and agony of love. A war deep down inside explores the furious pain of love. The skeins of love, rage and feasting are all intertwined.
May Chong's poem is delightful but incisive. Home Grown looks at the poisonous legacy left by parents to their children and ends with a note of hope and change.
Strength, kindness, love and compassion during adversity.
Go out there and be fruity.
Joyce, Editor-in-Chief
I am trembling in my chair as I write this editorial. The news from Manchester and London shocked and hurt all of us. Teens and kids were targeted at a pop concert by terrorists. Diners out on a Saturday night They wanted to cow people by hate and fear. Yet, Manchester and London responded with the opposite: kindness, empathy, opening their doors, comforting the grieving, staying strong and staring into the face of terror.
It makes me wonder: what kind of fruits do we want to see in our lives? Not just physical delicious fruit growing on trees now, but the things we cultivate and nurture, the things we set in the soil of our psyches and let germinate. Even in the most adverse environment, we see plants bear fruit. A friend told me about a pomegranate tree in Western Australia that grows lush and produces fruit prodigiously year after year. The tree has set down her roots deep down into the earth, adapting to the land, and just living a joyous life. Strength during adversity.
Our poems explored the connotations of fruit in many ways. Love, relationships, the link between parent and child, hate, the things our parents leave inside us, genetic fruits gone bad. Be it the hedonistic and visceral nature of orange blood running down limbs, savoring love like heady and intoxicating fruit, or the bitterness of biting into memory or legacy, our poems are full of juice and pulp.
Linda M. Crate's poem is darkly delicious and poignant, looking at the joys and agony of love. A war deep down inside explores the furious pain of love. The skeins of love, rage and feasting are all intertwined.
May Chong's poem is delightful but incisive. Home Grown looks at the poisonous legacy left by parents to their children and ends with a note of hope and change.
Strength, kindness, love and compassion during adversity.
Go out there and be fruity.
Joyce, Editor-in-Chief