Ours Is To Let Them Be
The woman walks on West Ferry, asking each driver for a dollar. She may want you to listen. She may be ready to assist. She clearly wants a dollar, or five o...
Kind Fools’ WRITE ON! - March 19th at 1pm
Info/Sign-up
Our partner - Recovery Stories at 5:00pm March 23rd Info/Sign-up
The Moral Imperative 2026 Application Open through March 27th
Details
WNY Trash Mob’s Earth Day Clean Up Challenge 2026 Details
Thank you for supporting Community Canvases’ / Kind Fools’ Annual Appeal
Donate
Community Swing 6pm to 9pm every Wednesday Details
Band Together for Food raised almost $2,000 for Journey’s End. Thanks!!!
Details
All Community Canvases Events
Programs
The woman walks on West Ferry, asking each driver for a dollar. She may want you to listen. She may be ready to assist. She clearly wants a dollar, or five o...
We see each other’s hearts. We see each other’s common humanity. We venture outside our silos to learn and work together.
I like this! I still have wounds that have not healed, but in this environment I can get a stitch here and a stitch there.
For our second WRITE ON! workshop, 14 persons gathered in the back event space of Hostel Buffalo-Niagara. The Hostel holds a strong sense of community, from ...
On a chilly February evening, people began entering SolRise Farm and Cultural Arts Center. At one minute before six, all 11 chairs set up around the centerpi...
I see WRITE ON! as a safe space. WRITE ON! is neither a dialogue nor a conversation.
A poem is a core of a thought, An idea, stripped of chocolate, just nougat.
The things and elements that intertwine and juxtapose within the frame of my own mindscape
Where am I? Why am I here? The fact I don’t belong is something I fear.
And remember People Live Here Gentrification Will not steal the soul of a place
Grief’s confidence and presence are unquestionable. The only way out is through and Grief will come through with you.
The dance of giving and receiving: Creating more space to lean into. Never a tug-of-war, or battle.
A running brook, stones untouched Two sides of a coin, as such I question luck
The truth is I am my sisters’ guardian spiritually and legally
My guest house is here to be inhabited.
What is the secret of the world? “it is to be silent.”
The guests continue to arrive, at all hours. Sometimes they barge in and bypass the welcome desk.
I am the torch carrier, the standard bearer, the warrior-healer, the peasant-queen.
Not as a sight. Look upon them as a light.
Where I’ve met something that is all too familiar. Existing in one breath, only to be gone in the next.
A disaster to clean A path to clear To trample the fears
Where I’ve met something that is all too familiar. Existing in one breath, only to be gone in the next.
You’re the Sun My Sun The reason Bees pass the secrets of the flowers
I want my insides to match my outsides
the only thing I can do about fear is be prepared for it and keep a light on in myself
Her wounds made her wiser. I won’t accept lies in the name of love
For it’s a gift, free to receive Unified fruit Of but one seed
To hear with clear waters, to provide a window into the abyss such that the bottom appears close
To hear with clear waters, to provide a window into the abyss such that the bottom appears close