My maimed heart
When midnight moonlight spills its river in our lake where from your arrow, freshly picked from Cupid’s quiver maimed my heart and tainted marrow infected with your lust and burning. […]
When midnight moonlight spills its river in our lake where from your arrow, freshly picked from Cupid’s quiver maimed my heart and tainted marrow infected with your lust and burning. […]
It’s not from fear or might declaring knowledge — or what’s right. It’s not from snow-capped peaks, or rowdy waterfalls — but how we seek for questions in the hearts […]
Without a map or moonlit pebbles leading home again the aged librarian follows poetry and songs scribbled in the margin of a first-edition copy of a book not read, remembering […]
They walk among us still — the souls of proxy-fighters we betrayed. Most of us still stagger streets with down-cast eyes; air-pods filling our heads with blazing hymns. It’s painful […]
Have you ever seen the greatness in a toddler’s fist — clenched in tantrums and the way her mother bows obeying to her whims? Have you ever wondered how much […]
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