Just walking
Every path starts at our front door. After less than two kilometers we have left the gardens and houses behind. An occasional jogger might pass us and we note that […]
Every path starts at our front door. After less than two kilometers we have left the gardens and houses behind. An occasional jogger might pass us and we note that […]
Not from rain — our numbness, peppermint blues, in hues of Burgundy staining your blouse the mock-orange choke us with incense as this evening of summer reeks in bliss. Written […]
I remember the the year of Chernobyl; the silent drizzle glazing my skin, how the spring seemed greyer, the greenery sick. I remember the year of Chernobyl how mushrooms and […]
My love is not a butterfly or rose, she’s neither soft as silk nor summer’s breeze, no goddess ever wore such dreadful clothes and if she sings I’ll plead “Oh […]
“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please”. The young guide leads us through the hall of artifacts from human atrocities. There are instruments of torture to the left: an iron maiden, […]
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