Morning glory
His hands are dry but in the corner of his eyea lonesome teardrop traps the joyful raysof morning-sun.as the library awakes. From dust to vellum,pressed between the breakfastand his dreams,in […]
His hands are dry but in the corner of his eyea lonesome teardrop traps the joyful raysof morning-sun.as the library awakes. From dust to vellum,pressed between the breakfastand his dreams,in […]
Awake, the moment right beforethe sunbegins its processof heating up the hollow of our tentmaking it unbearable to remain,We truly restand listen to the wavesremembering how yesterday we rode the […]
After summer solstice nothing moves — as inexhale of duskthe mock-orange scent exhaustseven the summer sibilance of two cantankerouscrows slowly falling asleep. Today I host at Open Link Night at […]
I still recall your eyesand how I saw the green of sea dwelling swelling deep insidethe night you said: “I sense the salt againmy skin needs brinemy hair craves kelp to swirl I […]
It’s pathetic really, but I blame our pandemic restriction, having to work from home, I become a villager, walking around the neighborhood watching the same gardens slowly changing from winter […]
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