Their ancient eyes
With ancient eyes, the sentinels ablaze are making rounds; with constellations bring in confidence encrypted signs, amaze with visions, scents above: with diamond-rings my fingers trace the nape of Virgo, […]
With ancient eyes, the sentinels ablaze are making rounds; with constellations bring in confidence encrypted signs, amaze with visions, scents above: with diamond-rings my fingers trace the nape of Virgo, […]
A hiss of vapor safely let released, the oil on sprockets, and the cushioned walls you keep for words that’s hurled in anger, faults unmentioned and your strength to quench […]
O silent moon, divine, when velvet gowns are shed, your silver slips through fingertips of frozen branches while from the deeper downs, perfumed, a song of dryads cling; their lips […]
I listen to my shadow, spelling words of moon, a certain taste in songs, the grass beside the path we used to walk where birds were flutes and taste of […]
Distinct — his song was laced with soil, a whiff of corpse; a destiny: his magnetism of tapered fingers, priestlike porcelain skin. She left her bed, and by the moonlit […]
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