He is library
His library is ripe with voices; within each book there are calls for action; calls to wait; commands for war and pleas for peace. Never silent (resilient) books are pain […]
His library is ripe with voices; within each book there are calls for action; calls to wait; commands for war and pleas for peace. Never silent (resilient) books are pain […]
The aged librarian is the caesura in a reading when we still are silent, waiting to applaud. We glance sideways, shuffle feet, explore the lint on threadbare cloth. And we […]
Hear sounds of night — a lullaby for withered fronds Hear sighs of night — how dark are shadows passing Hear screams of night — of horsemen in his nightmare […]
I’m a beetle in a city’s underbelly; unknown to me.. Behind me echoes. Footsteps, heavy, kissed with limp. Ahead an eerie shimmer blinds; is it hope or corpse-light? My breath […]
In my cellar I had wine and memories waiting to mature or turn to vinegar. I bottled summer. Winter, Wind. Whispered voices. I waited for my wine to peak — […]
Writing about living in two places (and times)
Poems & Stories from The Author Stew
practising for a whole life
haikai poetry matters
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