Plumage of words
Words are sometimes pillowed, of eiderdown, uttered softly lulla- bying for an almost drowning. At other times they billow, soar on feathered wings, brave you into boldness asking for a […]
Words are sometimes pillowed, of eiderdown, uttered softly lulla- bying for an almost drowning. At other times they billow, soar on feathered wings, brave you into boldness asking for a […]
It’s not abrupt, but more like flowing downstream on a river; changes in the way you look too deep into your mirrored eyes. Like leaves you waited for in spring, […]
Perfumed with myrrh and gum-diseased her smile that upward turned her plum-like lips, she waited with a smirk that never touched her blood-stained eyes. The left part of her face […]
Prince Hamlet of Denmark once asked of being or not in what passed, but, when the rot in the kingdom was found Hamlet had died and Ophelia drowned. A third […]
When Ruby met Berlusconi he claimed her ID wasn’t a phony, but the fact still remains: she was minor off limits for Silvio’s wrinkly old wiener. A second Clerihaw, for […]
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