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When at school, nowhere else but the space that was givenAnd those tighter moments, when the neurosis of the timeMade no more sense than the

you see, when I was young and writing for all I could findI read somewhere that it was wrong to use too many wordsthat end

Here is one of the poems which I wrote back in March. I’m about to start writing again. This one stirred me to the page

The cowboys have gone out of business or Pretend to be self-made commercial heroes,The fantasy of TV is a bore,His town and home barely exist

Three are the ways that I have seen youGliding across the sky like Jove awakeningWondering why there are honeyed spaces betweenEvery field of your vision,

Coming out of winter hibernation, I have begun a project for the month of March. 31 poems in 31 days. I’m also carrying a camera

you’re at that age wheneverything’s moving faster,but you can’t play god.

I keep a regular track of the visitors to the series of weblogs which I host using sitemeter. This helps me to see how many