Being family
We’ll chain your hopes to outpoured milk and burn your laughter with small disasters. Being mother means to be smothered with silk Because you’re our slave and we are masters. […]
We’ll chain your hopes to outpoured milk and burn your laughter with small disasters. Being mother means to be smothered with silk Because you’re our slave and we are masters. […]
“Hope” is the thing with feathers – Emily Dickinson How do we hold a precious thing with feathers? How do we spot the hues in all that’s grey? How do […]
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