About Alison Leslie Gold

Posts by Alison Leslie Gold:

Cauldron and Pillow

Conjured, half-smothered, not getting the relief I’m seeking on this un-level playing field when I lay my head on a cauldron and brew a potion in my pillow. My tulips shout, Stop! So I do. Pillow  And night is a river bridging the speaking and the listening banks, a fortress, undefended and inviolate. There’s nothing that won’t fit under it: fountains(…)


New addiction

I’ve a new addiction. It crept in quietly, relaxed my mind; now it’s got me by the throat. And: Yes, I never thought it could/would happen to me. It’s a ‘match three’ game like (but not) ‘Candy Crush Saga’ accessed on my iPhone. My main game is ‘Fruits Mania’ but sometimes I also play ‘Lollipop’ or ‘Honey(…)


RIP Masha Leon

A number of years ago I began working on a book for Scholastic Press for Middle School kids ages 10-14 about Chiune Sugihara, the Japanese diplomat in Kaunas, Lithuania who, in 1940, against his governments wishes, wrote visas round-the-clock to help refugees fleeing Hitler. (He’s sometimes called the Japanese Shindler.) Though Sugihara’s deeds were courageous and in some sense(…)


High up in the Apennines

I was browsing the internet for a reference re ‘human kindness’ for a new work project, and the following came up: -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- The Human Kindness Foundation website is currently undergoing maintenance. We will be back very soon. -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. This explains a lot. Happily though, the ache left by the moment’s void, got filled this morning as I hurried down Ninth Avenue.(…)


Red herring/s

*** On awakening one overcast morning a week or so after last Halloween (2016, a grim time), I shuffled into the kitchen to pour a cup of pre-made coffee and found things not as I’d left them. A piscine smell had vaporized out of thin air; not a fresh-from-the-ocean scent but a noxious hold-your-nose-odor. A vivid scene from a favorite film came to mind, The Tin Drum, when eels(…)


Guest poet/clown/old friend

My great old friend Richard Vick (I’ve always called him ‘Rick’) left his job as a reporter on London’s Fleet Street just before his twenty-first birthday with a small suitcase plus £50 in his pocket. It was 1969 the year the 5th Dimension sang and sang and sang ‘Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In.’ As Rick explained in a recent interview: “These were exciting(…)


Afternoon sleep

After picking up a container of coffee with half-and-half, the dry cleaning, and finally, a roast turkey sandwich with raw onion, mayo and lettuce on a Kaiser roll, I lowered my head and pushed against the raw wind, hurrying home. I welcomed the dry heat filling the lobby of my building, as a chill had cut through me. The crooked man(…)


‘Bronco Buster’

***It was dusk and I could hear snow shovels scraping the asphalt below as folks dug out their buried cars. These parked cars were pinned in by mounds of dirty milk pushed against them by rasping snowplows shunting new-fallen-snow throughout last night’s blizzard. In the dimming light I searched the bookshelves for a Chinese translation recently received. Its arrival had been a source of satisfaction as none of my books had been translated into(…)


Now and then, deja vu

NOW: [Photo by Ian Thomas Jansen-Lonnquist for the Boston Globe of Mahasen Khatib, a Syrian refugee who is settling her family in Rutland, Vt. with two of her children] SYRIAN REFUGEE FAMILY SETTLES IN VERMONT CITY AMIDST UNCERTAINTY  Excerpt from ARTICLE BY Brian MacQuarrie Globe Staff  January 29, 2017 RUTLAND, Vt. — Ahmed Khatib and his wife, Mahasen,(…)