Literature

Like they clear the sewers before rain comes I clear my thought before thought comes. The sky no more is blue in the city, clouds are no more black or...

It has been a week of hard baking sun, and my petunias are resplendent with snow white flowers, delicate petals fluttering in a warm afternoon breeze. I sit beside them...

"What can you say about a 34-year-old man who departed at his own appointed hour, of his own volition, of his own means to reach his own ends? That he...

Today I stand on the edge, the last plank of the ship, knowing not if I am to get off the ship or am to delve into the deep ocean...

You ask for happiness, it makes you contented. I ask for pain – it gives me motion, it gives direction, it keeps me dreaming. It gives me a reason. I...

Oceans, a living word for me, effervesces myriad images that can run the entire gamut of all the figures of speech of the language of my write. It is not...

I have been struggling for words to speak to you. You were silent; like a rock. I have been having a monologue for some time. I heard a voice from...

Your lips tinged With the shade of vermilion I liked best Stand devoid of colour. Your eyes speaking More than your lips Are gesticulating a smile I try to trace...

Right, did I hear you say, "Beating round the bush again?" No! I told you. In the Ice Age I was taller – I went around the Alpines. I have...

The more I try to understand you the more I will try to distance from you. I like you much as long as I don’t know you much. It’s a...