My hope is a concept,
a word,
lost and forgotten
on pages stuck together.
An absence that goes unnoticed
as the absence of the voice
who turns them,
and burns them,
and burn along with them.
Welcome to the Anglo Swiss World
dreamer of dreams, teller of tales
Andrew's view of the world in poetry, prose, and picture
Art Ana PJ
soul journey, breathing, growing, healing
Sometimes, life is like that.
365 days a lens LG/Samsung
A Post a Day since 2nd May 2019 - All pictures posted are taken by Dave Bignell
Gen X’er chronicles the art form of living in the Angelino metropolitan environment through poetry, creative writing, art, photography, and culture.
"Inspiring quote to express my individuality."
An eclectic collection of trivia, musings and free range lunacy
Poetry, haiku, tanka, and micropoetry
Poetry
Just your average PhD student using the internet to enhance their CV
Stories of wanderlust, adventure and occasional disaster.
Art is the Struggle to Understand
Thoughts from the Inner Mind
Travel Stories and Other Adventures
exploring expressing creating
notes from the shed
So much critical of yourself 🙂 life is fleeting and what you call is “who turns them, and burns them, and burn along with them”…is your art of living 🙂 🙂
It is not exactly being critical. And it is not necessarily about me. I am just trying to capture a mood that I think everyone must pass through at some point in life. We cannot get rid of what we feel only because they seem critical. Even in sadness there is a beauty, only if you see beyond the pain. And we can only do that when the pain has passed and when we grow up, we can only see that when we look back. At least that is what I think.