A fickle thing
Rapture is to necklace syllables to sentences, to poetry heretic cherubism; to smile with beasts, to testament a book of words. But rapture is alas a fickle thing the end […]
Rapture is to necklace syllables to sentences, to poetry heretic cherubism; to smile with beasts, to testament a book of words. But rapture is alas a fickle thing the end […]
You might still find him, a hermit hiding, in the philosophy section, sipping syllables and tea. He’s brimming with answers but lacks the matching questions. But if you ask him […]
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