at a crossroads
the echoing notes of each string gently being strummed shakes the air between us both picking away the last remains of my...
into dust
with seven lines you moved me from night to someplace deeper than despair a bittersweet truth (perhaps) that what has passed (as...
blood and bone
she haunts my dreams, my waking hours with a presence more palpable than blood or bone for its singular absence — an...
a ghazal
rumi’s ghazal 441 so skillfully mixed with techno-pop beats weaves a haunting, divine and indescribably sweet spell which washes over me. visions...
a perfect paradox?
he wrote of a perfect paradox hinged on the sole fact of our shared existence (or experience as such) and how we...
each passing day
if i could sit by the sea with an eye on the tide rolling slowly in wave after foaming blue wave would...
thirsty in tangier
sitting on the edge where two worlds meet and sipping mint tea beneath a pale blue canopy as a silver crescent moon...
the slow turn
i wonder what a tiny cog in a big machine doing its littlest part in the grander scheme of things rolling and...