What are the roots of the word "culture", why has it been so mistreated in our time, what's the link with Time and love, and what does the definition really represent, today? Read various (provocative) thoughts, in my essay "The Pains and Prize of Remembering Time", now available in the November issue of Adelaide Literary Magazine.… Continue reading My essay in Adelaide Literary Magazine
To I.F. Have you ever heard them say, that every seven years or so, we are no longer what we used to be? Apparently, some new cells are… Continue reading A Letter in a (Champagne) Bottle
It has become very popular these days to "let go of thought". But I love silence and I love to think.These two had never asked me to choose between them. Poetry is simply my journal of thought. Here is today's entry. Thou Art A broken flower of the world shoved in a glass jar on… Continue reading Poetry as thought
A long traveler with poor sight, I stroll across a street lined with sharp eyes. Twinklers with no birth dates, their gaze pins me down from heights of great pillars unsplashed by the common sea. Some strange and proud, still others so sweet, eyes lovely; these would gladly make me forget the lies, emptiness, worm-holes… Continue reading Black Holes
How does a young human being go about learning of its inner self? In this era of the new "great depression," seeking answers too often resembles standing in front of a shattered mirror with a pile of fractured and broken pieces and no reflection. Whilst outside booms the 21 century. Seeing no reflection, one just… Continue reading The Age of Emotional Innocence
The idea of explaining music or putting it into words has never been sympathetic to me. Superficial talks about the nature of Music also leave me untouched and skeptical, even more so now than before. I had held many such talks, I believed in them, I was disappointed in them. They resembled 50/50 versions at… Continue reading Sounds of Verses
Slowly a day, a person, a moment retreats into memory and becomes Past. Even memory possesses a rear inner compartment which falls into time, hastily and smoothly, beckoned by the latter's impatient ticking...
78 years ago, on the verge of a world catastrophe, a famous poet sat down and wrote: "We must love one another or die" ...and not being able to come to terms with these 7 words, erased 100 lines from his collected works. To the modern ear this sounds on the brink of too much… Continue reading Exclusivity Excludes Peace?
Years ago, growing up and doing a lot of reading, I would often get bored with long monologues .Today I'm ashamed of the fact that not having the heart to skip them, I used to skim over them, which I found to be a more conscience-friendly way of helping them out that other ear. Things… Continue reading Cupping Time
Nothing ever dies And no one is more alive, Than your severe and ironic rhymes. In blind man's darkness I seek my tunnel reddened by distant lights; I don't see the righteous Neither do I look behind. What can I do but advance, Given no light, though gifted a guide. A guide who took me… Continue reading In memoriam J.B.