Cold, cold night
snuggled by myself
dreams and memory
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Cold, cold night
snuggled by myself
dreams and memory
Poems | Publishing | Articles | Community.
Enjoying Life In New Ways
Poetry, Photography, haiku,
the literary asylum
Wherever I lay my pen, that's my home
my humanity in written form
Guitarist / Songwriter
Poetry, Fiction & Photography
New content every Sunday.
Tales from the mouth of a wolf
a collection of words about my average, bog-standard life accompanied by some sub-par illustrations that depict selected moments in said life
Tales of humour, whimsy and courgettes
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to be worth sharing
Domenic Garisto / LIFE IS NOT A REHERSAL,SO LIVE IT..if you can't be the poet, be the poem..havau22.com
One Poet's Writing Practice
My thousand lines..
cat nap revue by bruce jewett 
Not so cold, but chilly enough to use a longsleeve heavy-duty cotton biker tee shirt and a good pull on the dreams/memories crankshaft. Do you, too, direct your dreams and nocturnal travels, especially when all the pillows unoccupied? Is it a sign of late-onset humanity? I forget the other symptoms.
My pillows are occupied by peanut butter jars and Archie comics