Black Carnation
This morning is a black carnation; slightly bent it’s dying in the January drizzle. I’m tossed and turned at the mercy of the cruel clouds and have to shawl myself […]
This morning is a black carnation; slightly bent it’s dying in the January drizzle. I’m tossed and turned at the mercy of the cruel clouds and have to shawl myself […]
The taste of fear is open, pure and red — a lump of meat, it’s poppies lost and flown from cries in mud, in trenches darkly bled. We harvested our […]
They said that glaciers wouldn’t melt, that science was conspiracy, a hoax to take our jobs; and we believed, believed and dug ever deeper, deeper just to feed their furnace […]
In the recess of the library, behind his least loved books there is a wormhole to the past, a void that some would call his prison and others his escape. […]
practising for a whole life
dancing with my muse
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
Now we see through a glass, darkly
rejuvenatement - not retirement
words and scribble.