Is dead. (And it’s not the first time that’…
Part 1 Ici repose un soldat Francois mor… (1914-1918). Beneath this flame there is no tom… no ashes grace that empty bed,
So, you’re leaving then? After all these years. The highs, the lows, and the in-be… You’re off. No, of course I’m not ‘ok.’
The insides of my stomach Are a bubbling Bubonic Scattered Mess
Oh woe is me, woe betide! In you I have chosen to confide My tale of grief and misery But please, don’t let me spoil you… I have suffered more than enough
Red face and furrowed brow hides a… A Dadly Dad is self-assured But so is He Strong and silent – you know the t… That keeps a watchful eye at night…
‘Yoga’ means ‘to join,’ ‘to yoke,’… Melding body and mind in the momen… until the thought of a thought of… echoes in the movement of a moveme… and the locus of time ceases to be…
God is a rose petal called Nareet… which soaks up the morning sun wit… God is sleep in the corner of your… which brushes away and braces the… God is an old man and a young woma…
Memories are like sand, They surface in unlikely places. Inland, miles from the shore It’s still there At the bottom of your shoe
When we love it’s not us not really. We love with the child inside. If we’re lucky
One foot stumbles into another as It pushes off uninviting concrete One step. Two step. Three step.… Earlier that foot pushed off a war… Bed, where You lay, beckoning me…
Where to start? At the beginning, I suppose. Stepping off an eight-hour New Yo… into pitch black, sweltering humid… the kind that makes your already s…
At work we wait for work to end To give us time to rest and mend ‘Put your feet up’, ‘relax’ and ‘c… Which is well and good, until— Work is really over.
Unremarkable. A dull green rock Its embers do not pulse, but glow Not bright, like the stars; but de… An older sun, a tired sun, Krypto… Kal-El
I told you once, I told you twice… I’m real as real can be. Now turn around, Mr Deckard, and do not follow me. My memories are personal,
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