New Poetry

Blessed Are the Warm

By Rick Hite

At six we would walk out, the end of night,

Into the cold, my Grandfather and I,

Walk down the black streets with the snow plowed high

Along the sides, sooty, no longer white,

Walk to the big houses under dark trees,

The high branches reaching for the morning.

Grandfather would sort through his ring of keys,

Find the one, unlock, and, without warning,

Pull up the slanted door, ice breaking loose,

And then descend into a furnace room,

His Hades, to stoke the fire for some Zeus

Overhead, in bed, dreaming in sleep’s womb,

Who soon would wake to warmth and light, and bless

The Heavens for their grace and bounteousness.

View from the TReehouse

An Educational Priority

By Tom Robotham

Whenever I take stock of my life to date, I can’t help feeling a tinge of regret. I wish, for example, that I had taken music more seriously when I was younger; and I wish I had become fluent in a foreign language or two. Like most public school students, I had some exposure—in my case, two years of Spanish in high school and two years of French in college—but it was too little too late. Today, I know only a smattering of each language.

Read more: View from the Treehouse

By John-Henry Doucette

Last month, Veer Magazine ran in its news pages a story proclaiming that the Norfolk gift shop Texture “is unlike any other.” The article also included a quote that referred warmly to the shop’s “family of coworkers.” What the article failed to mention is that the writer is a member of that family.

The website AltDaily quickly picked up on the transgression: “(T)his is what we call in the journalism world a conflict of interest,” wrote AltDaily co-editor/publisher Jesse Scaccia in a long commentary that questioned Veer

Read more: Journalism at a Crossroads

By Leona Baker

Anyone who has seen Avatar is likely to rave about the film’s breathtaking and wildly inventive visuals. I practically had to pick my jaw up off the floor as I walked out of the IMAX theater at the Virginia Air & Space Center in Hampton.

Read more: I Am Blue Woman, Hear Me Roar

By Jim Morrison

Here's one listener's list of favorite discs from 2009. It’s unusually narrow this year, with Americana dominating. It must be the times we're facing.

Read more: Music: Best Albums of 2009

By John-Henry Doucette

Lydia faced the door at La Ragazza Aglio on College Hill. She saw the girl in the black dress walk into the restaurant. The boy who followed wore blue jeans and a red rugby shirt. Lydia watched them over Ty’s hairless head, buried in a menu though the food was ordered.

“Oh dear,” Lydia said. “This won’t do.”

“Reconsidering eggplant?” Ty asked.

Read more: New Fiction: Concessions