Nestled in the eggshell of my youth, the cracking is unwelcome, but how else can I stretch? Sometimes my will to live gets as frail as an autumn leaf until i remember the only one who can stitch toget… more →
all that's golden.Stephen Rowe wrote 3 weeks ago: Go Leaving Strange by Patrick Lane Year: 2004 Publisher: Harbour Publishing Province: British Columb … more →
authentikcloud wrote 1 month ago: somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence: in you … more →
ghosty wrote 1 month ago: Nestled in the eggshell of my youth, the cracking is unwelcome, but how else can I stretch? Sometime … more →
wartimehousewife wrote 1 month ago: Ha! you thought I’d forgotten the Sunday Poem didn’t you? But I have been so busy toda … more →
insignificant1 wrote 1 month ago: I usually write down my thoughts when I wake, but this morning, I really don’t have any inspir … more →
watchthatcheese wrote 3 months ago: Cheese Hound Report Although a lot better in most respects, Titch has taken to weeing inside. Cannot … more →
Jopre wrote 3 months ago: Hope you all had a good weekend, and took the opportunity to think about favourite poems. When it ca … more →
Jopre wrote 3 months ago: I’ve had lots of positive feedback about the “Touchstone Poems” session at the launch. The thi … more →
ghosty wrote 3 months ago: Life is a puzzle unlike the kind that come in boxes where each arm locks into a perfect embrace with … more →
ghosty wrote 5 months ago: the descent into madnesslike a rollercoaster;the evaporation of gravityas you are craddled on the cu … more →
ghosty wrote 5 months ago: The smell of dead skin cells and dustwith a dash of curiosity.These pages have each been gently care … more →
lacedaemonian wrote 5 months ago: Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim … more →
ghosty wrote 5 months ago: (the stream of infancyflows into the river of adolescence,into the bay of adulthood,and out to the o … more →
irene wrote 6 months ago: de Nichita Stanescu Bun,dar cu noi cum ramane? Ei au fost mari,tragici,sfinti… Ei au mancat pa … more →
ghosty wrote 6 months ago: I am sitting in the boxes of my calendar.I am walking along the days of the week.There is a gas tank … more →
irene wrote 6 months ago: de Lucian Blaga Iubito, ti-s ochii-asa de negri incat seara cand stau culcau cu capu-n poala ta imi … more →
ghosty wrote 6 months ago: Fingerprints of old loversleave an ink stain,which like the pastI can’t erase,nor should I wis … more →
ghosty wrote 6 months ago: With feathers in her hairshe used the ropes of exposed rootsto climb steep slopes of boulders in her … more →
ghosty wrote 7 months ago: Lunar lightbeamspave a tunnel,melting away thick firey cloudsto illuminate every shadow of your face … more →