Jazz with the moss
Where trees jazz with wind so gently to magic of moss at summernight tarn; there I meet you at midnight and run my hands through gold of your hair. Come […]
Where trees jazz with wind so gently to magic of moss at summernight tarn; there I meet you at midnight and run my hands through gold of your hair. Come […]
Down at the club the drums beat jazz ba-bam ba-bam-bam-boo to taps of of hundred feet and humming sax: while with a tearful wail the trumpet hails our night of […]
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
Poems and psychosis.
rejuvenatement - not retirement
words and scribble.
The Quantumverse
Poetry, Photography, haiku,