Missing pieces
Once — before he bowed to age, he sieved his syllables from books, wringing substance into notebooks. Once — he still believed his puzzle could be laid; now — he […]
Once — before he bowed to age, he sieved his syllables from books, wringing substance into notebooks. Once — he still believed his puzzle could be laid; now — he […]
The zealous crowd arrived, ten minutes to midnight to burn the scrolls they blamed for rising tides, for brine and water flooding lower levels of Atlantis. The librarian tried in […]
In the recess deep in his chest he carries not the words of librarians passed, but the tantrums of toddlers, his childhood; In the folds of his bathrobe; not hidden […]
Treat every book with care, between its pages rests: a universe a sacred crypt a piece of you and everyone a place to meet or be alone. Enter every book […]
Don’t talk unless you can improve the silence Jorge Luis Borges The aged librarian sees scent in calm, palms it in his notebook; is the mouse — housekeeper of dust […]
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