Why I write: exploration and deceit
A wonderful quote from T.S. Eliot struck me during my morning Lectio 365 meditation this week. We shall…
Defining horizons
The memory and the dream are one and the samea phantom limb that I would break my own…
Mediterranean (from Tarifa to you)
I watch the weather where I was
and where I want to be;
too cold for summer, too hot for winter,
too comfortable to be close to anywhere ...
Embers eternal
Embers eternal but we’re a ways from raging with the fire Roll another one and take me back…
Paradise
Paradise, he declares while I proceed to speak of chains. I am Con-Tiki in reverse, a raft that’s…
Aperture/Closure
I. It’s been one of those nights when sleep escapes and in its wake these words that race,…
Blisters, sparks / Unexpected sentimentality
This post was originally titled "Poems about boys". Then I thought that was too racy and also inaccurate. So I changed it.
There are two poems, both inspired by - but not actually about - boys. But this is poetry, after all, so who am I to tell you what my poems are "actually" about?
If you're still interested in my attempts at creative writing, please read on ...
First date poetry and other awkwardness
I once went on a date where I was asked to read some poetry aloud. It was one of the most awkward things I've ever had to do.
Reading out somebody else's poetry was intimate in all the wrong ways.
Trains, Platform 29
Lately I’ve been spending time alone on the train, with the trains inside this mind where I am surrounded…
Defrag this
In the days before I converted to Mac, defragging my PC was a standard part of my life. I…