What if you saw your life flash before your eyes? In a blink, every scene, every moment, winking by in a flip-book of memory. Would you be happy? What would you see?
Today We Live
Tag: Poetry
the Inner River
"Now the long road of the pilgrimage meets the path of the nile... Canyons of orange and beige roll down into empty dells of rust and bone; dusted staircases and shattered statues licked with gold. Pillars of alabaster split the horizon and strange mountains rise like chiselled breasts, mocking the sky."
Black and Gold Crusades
A little poem and a little visual. Today's musing... Film clips from Ghana and Morocco, 2017 and 2018 respectively. Words from my mind, circa 2011. Jx *** all inquiries: diary.aesthete@yahoo.co.uk ***
In the Light of Brussels
"...Then with nothing at all, But the little we are, We'll have conquered all time; All space, the sun, and the stars." - Jacques Brel Take yourself on a journey through the centre of Europe, the heart of Belgium; to Brussels - a city of no fuss, no pretense - just a mirror; a canvas to arrange the colours of [...]
Touching Skies – A Season in Europe
I have had a season full of love and beauty. So blessed. How thankful I am! These last three months in Europe have been a blessing, truly - time spent around grand architecture, in medieval towns, with dear old pals, precious family, breathing clean air in the mountains, feeling the creative waters flowing, connecting with [...]
La Laguna – Venezia – A Poem
Old stone, flat and cold, Solid as steel beneath my feet. Jesolo. Concrete miles line this beachy isle That sits, shallow - across the sea. La laguna. I reach the shore and can feel her: A siren call. That sacred hive over yonder, Where glass and sky and mist All rise – to crown the [...]
A City Lies – A Poem
Black crows sail the purple sky. Clouded mass of scattered black, Circling round and plummeting down like Shooting stars – burnt out; ash. But see them rise again; bolting back, Like acrobats from distant Mars. Look at how they steal this night, winged as bats; And skilled as the throat of the messenger lark. The [...]