Origin of poetry
The forest is also a library,each tree being a bookevery bough is a sentenceand now as the spring tiptoesover moss and pine needlesthe birch buds are breakingand the books turns […]
The forest is also a library,each tree being a bookevery bough is a sentenceand now as the spring tiptoesover moss and pine needlesthe birch buds are breakingand the books turns […]
The library is taste-and colorless, desert, seaexisting only on the edgeof your atmosphere,some would say it is largerthan the universewhile others claim it’s justa tiny box of liesillusion and a […]
This weekend spring felt close to summer but as other places transition into summer we are still early in spring. The woods are white and blue with anemones, but most […]
Late in Aprilwhen the sun sets latesome sunrays piercethe silence of his library,with the savageryof spiteful scimitars. The aged librarianperceive the slightest tinglestarting in his stomachas from indigestion,it stretches through […]
A summer breeze moves the muslin drapesas shallow shadows dance on naked skinand windows open to the sea make shapesthe sunset paints us in a sweeter sense of sin. We […]
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.
The Quantumverse
Verba volant, scripta manent !
About fantastical places and other stuff