The librarian’s speech
You have passed me; as a ship in search of its harbor or as the wind turning my encyclopedia pages from sage into sinner. I know of your dreams, how […]
You have passed me; as a ship in search of its harbor or as the wind turning my encyclopedia pages from sage into sinner. I know of your dreams, how […]
Drowning in his books the aged librarian is blessed, unknowing but imagining how the world outside remains, still sane and ruled with sense, how compassion is the guiding star, how […]
Bound within you keep your worlds, riddle-inked and layered paper-thin, guarded by librarian loyalty until your words are ferociously freed in prose of verse: the nightshade burning veins or blossom-scent […]
The library has never been defined by mortar of its walls, not by windows, doors or ceilings or even secrets inked in code and hidden in the seventh basement further […]
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 […]
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