Veronica Golos is an award-winning curator and teacher for Poets & Writers, Poet’s House, and 92nd St Y/Makor in New York City. Ms. Golos’ work has been published and anthologized nationally and internationally, and adapted for theatrical productions in New York City’s Theatre Row and the Claremont Theological Seminary in California. Her poetry was the centerpiece of My Land is Me, a four-artist multimedia exhibit in Taos, NM, where she lives, that questioned the western view of the Veil.

Other poems by Veronica Golos in Verse Daily:

Books by Veronica Golos:

Other poems on the web by Veronica Golos:
Three poems

Veronica Golos's Website.

About Vocabulary of Silence:

"It’s a difficult thing to write about war—especially so the one you’re not really in, not in the dirty part. Poet Veronica Golos takes the fragments, the bits and pieces that reach us from the battlefield, and weaves them with a morality and a sorrow, to make us understand both our helplessness and our responsibility. Vocabulary of Silence finds the cracks in our liberal armor and helps us feel our own shame."
—Barbara Nimri Aziz

"In this ambitious second book, Golos responds to the U.S. invasion of Iraq with poems that just as readily evoke the Hindu creator-destroyer goddess Kali. ‘I offer grief,’ her speaker declares, ‘I know its gravity.’ Yet the energy pouring from these poems is palpable. At her best, they are a surging dark cloth and at the corner of each is a nail meant to hold the lines in place, such that the whole daring enterprise billows from the page."
—Sawnie Morris

"Language fails. Eden in ruin. Golos is a serious poet, luminous and brave. She watches our ghosts. Her poetry is wild in walled spaces, tunnels through which much comes: Iraq and America, Israel and Palestine, silence and shouting, war and prayer, light and violence, Mexico and New Mexico, the current news of the day and the essential news of the past and future. Golos is a poet who tells us both who we are and why we are. In her powerfully realized poems, she speaks of an immeasurable emptiness that could destroy us or—perhaps, save us."
—Angelo Verga