While weeding my garden
The way they weave and weed their words around conspiring, eating truth. Does it matter only how a lie is told? Can we only paint the world in black? Have […]
The way they weave and weed their words around conspiring, eating truth. Does it matter only how a lie is told? Can we only paint the world in black? Have […]
Monica shuddered; night had been brisk and looking out she couldn’t quite determine if the window ice-bloom was on the outside or not. Numbed, she realized that she craved for […]
A scent of outhouse brings me back to leisured days of youth, to sunwarm gneiss as smooth as ice beneath my bare feet running for seclusion. Its sense is not […]
She shimmered hair a halo, cheeks are rosed with breeze with bubbled grin in giggled dance to lull, to melt and make my heart skip beats. In waltz and twist […]
Afterwards – when only thorns remain when leaves have left and sap been sucked. With fingers pricked, you still recall, perfumed the summer rose of youth. Before the withered rot […]
Running in the slow lane
The view from here ... Or here!
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
chronicling my quarter life crisis
Now we see through a glass, darkly
rejuvenatement - not retirement
words and scribble.
The Quantumverse
Poetry, Photography, haiku, Life, word play, puns, free verse
About fantastical places and other stuff