Breath of the dragon
The city is a dragon, aware but dormant with its callous eyes watching over avenues and cul-de-sacs. It watches over treasures kept in vaults and pockets. Every banker, every beggar […]
The city is a dragon, aware but dormant with its callous eyes watching over avenues and cul-de-sacs. It watches over treasures kept in vaults and pockets. Every banker, every beggar […]
This night is moon; is ghost-owl habitat, an ink-washed shadow-journey, mourning lack of luster, loss of glow; This night is close to death, but through self-inflicted exorcism, painful rites of […]
The new apprentice — zephyr-torn with tresses tied and apple-cheeks to mask her scowl — tall she strode in polished patent-leather brogues seeking for the syllables to steal and stitch […]
The aged librarian can not survive on syllables who are bled in ink to sentences alone. He cannot live on pulp providing sustenance in wasted books; but the aged librarian […]
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