Sleeping with death
When darkness tiptoed through our streets, we shut the windows, blocked the doors before they knocked. “This night is death”, you cried, “it stabs my gut”. We listened to the […]
When darkness tiptoed through our streets, we shut the windows, blocked the doors before they knocked. “This night is death”, you cried, “it stabs my gut”. We listened to the […]
Today I picked an acorn from the ground; lost it laid, a cast-away, a sentence halfway crushed; it’s shedded early, shunned by mother oak, a nut and nothing but still […]
When Cupid’s arrow pierced me; it only nicked your breast, but left me bleeding, lonely, scared, repenting left me to my precious mourning; to my seascape sorrow, frozen and marooned, […]
When darkness tiptoed through our streets, we shut the windows, blocked the doors before they knocked. “This night is death”, you cried, “it stabs my gut”. We listened to the […]
I read your obituary. Pleasure bubbling through my veins. You’re gone, sweet traitor. April sunshine in my face; it’s warmer than a dish served cold. You called before; asked forgiveness, […]
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
Now we see through a glass, darkly