Monthly Archives: October 2012

“We are such stuff/As dreams are made on.”–William Shakespeare, The Tempest We all live in and for dreams. When we are young, we dream of growing up and doing all kinds of wonderful things. As children, we dream of birthdays, … Continue reading →

The “movement” had degenerated into spontaneous assaults and the occasional flare-up in the city core. At the time I was living in a high rise with a friend, having moved downtown from the country. One afternoon we were looking out … Continue reading →

(after Gustav Klimt’s painting) On the bed, he holds her neck, her hand all the while on his, the golden fabric of tryst. There are flowers in her hair & he has not kissed her mouth just yet. He leans … Continue reading →

(quote by W.B.Yeats, “Two Songs from a Play”) He is not a star for you to follow. He is just a man walking away down the road, the one who took the fire with him. No. He is a son … Continue reading →

Close to ‘It’ on many daze that elusive feeling of sublime contentment. The satisfaction of knowing who I am and what might really matter. Much was precarious and misfire, missed opportunity. Close calls amid the moments of being. And all the … Continue reading →

Many poets and writers have speculated that life is largely but a dream or dream-like state. In The Tempest, Shakespeare writes “We are such stuff/As dreams are made on; and our little life/Is rounded with a sleep.” We spend one-third … Continue reading →