Doors behind doors
The library is vast and it’s been said that there are doors that open into doors to rooms and halls where shelves are filled with books and scrolls. Where you […]
The library is vast and it’s been said that there are doors that open into doors to rooms and halls where shelves are filled with books and scrolls. Where you […]
You might still find him, a hermit hiding, in the philosophy section, sipping syllables and tea. He’s brimming with answers but lacks the matching questions. But if you ask him […]
The library has borders, books are fenced defence, defiance and his shelter. Sentences are bulwark, sentinels against the ignorance of those not yet enlightened. He believes in castles swords protecting […]
He knows by heart of apex moments, battles and the cusps of past, not from life or death but from the pinnacles of books and voices only he have glimpsed. […]
In spring the aged librarian sees in books the bloom; that from the words a growth of pansies and peonies, of columbine and blue forget-me-nots, and there are daisies, daffodils […]
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