All on black
It’s not stealing I had said — I only need this win, and I will pay them back. She won’t fight for custody; she’ll take me back. This is the […]
It’s not stealing I had said — I only need this win, and I will pay them back. She won’t fight for custody; she’ll take me back. This is the […]
This poem is a void — devoid of hues or views, a canvas lacking pigment a ballad yet unborn; tabula rasa. This poem is the pewter — stacked and ready […]
I know you should be blue — my winter moon. You should lend your sheen to snow; you should reflect yourself in ice and not in water. Winter should be […]
He dreams in sepia — Like every book is one in many, stories merging; flow of water under bridges, glow of past: she is woman, mother, girl — His past […]
Their ticket to leave was their hollow eyes, shrapnel, a toddlers coffin and the black milk served at dusk They left with passports signed by muzzle flames and rape. They […]
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