Bolero – remembered
Lured by Bolerowe were taughtabout that, whatmakes men into boysto the power of ten. A very brief second poem for Kim’s prompt at dVerse where I celebrate the momory of […]
Lured by Bolerowe were taughtabout that, whatmakes men into boysto the power of ten. A very brief second poem for Kim’s prompt at dVerse where I celebrate the momory of […]
I was born while stillthe world had a few unchartedpieces, parts less knownexcept as shadows, by a name,by a history of polar expeditionsby its ice, its rocksby being far away:my […]
Like the itch that lingers after shortcutstaken through growth of stinging nettles,or the reek of bar-smoke on a jacket collarforgotten in my wardrobeor being brought from sleepto calls from reclusive […]
In the grass-sea a-buzz with the flies growing fat on the faeces and corpses the vultures have left, I gaze at the battle-field sky, carelessly blue — the same as […]
We have a bearskin in our living room it meets me every day with open mouth. I don’t know where or why it met its doom my father bought it […]
practising for a whole life
dancing with my muse
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
rejuvenatement - not retirement
words and scribble.