What we lose today is but a tiny chunk of what we build

with such care and earnestness,

Lost days always look shiny,

But those from future yield

High hopes and nothing else.

We build many little dreams,

and forget that there is just one road narrow and scary.




Ce matin, c’est comme si je souffle

comme un vent subtil,

et je vol dans mon propre vent

comme une feuille d’automne…

je ne sais par où je vais tomber

à côté de quel rêve sombre,

près de la maison de qui,

mais je sais un nouveau vent vindrait me…



My every October waking has been a new search, I know not for exactly what, or what the search terms are, or what the results may look like.

And my every day is a constant effort to reopening myself to new avenues of life of thought of never returning; to…



A mind-blowing view

it was me, me was us: I knew

It takes a mind-blower

To fully fill the view

With touches and whispers.

A breath-taking view were you

But was I a breath taker…

I recall not, nor a giver

I was breath-taken




four grayhounds howl outside the whitened

Yuriatin midnight-

and the fierce winter wind

passes thrashing the desolated village,

much like the war that came

in devasting footsteps

and left the fear-ridden souls

with nothing but yearning even deeper,

for what?

maybe a greener horizon, renewal of love…

whatever dream the…




author, poet, photographer, artist, data analyst, linguist… ………and last but not least ……… .… a failed priest…….