Editor’s Picks

Bozzz
Picked

I will miss you forever; my first friend ever on this virtual space, from you I  tried to learn how to write, and if things went wrong, how to make them right, I will never ever forget the long and varied conversations I had with you, be it about India, during the time of pre-independence when you were in my city of joy as a governor, or about those sumptuous cakes your spouse would bake for ...

The Field
Picked

It isn't brand spanking new if I'm honest: It is an idea that started out at the end of the nineties. There comes a time in everyone's life when the past somehow melds with the now.  Within the moments of that day, that hour, that minute, things are remembered that at another time would have a totally different interpretation ...

Mr & Mrs Albatross
Picked

They can't survive on plastic ...

Gustave Speaks
Picked

Notorious man-eater crocodile has his say ...

A Soldier Remembers
Picked

This was originally the tenth station in a twelve stations of the cross sequence. I've taken it out and made it into an 'alternative reality'; partly influence by a play I watched years ago; setting the Passion in post war Palestine, and the occupying British standing in for the Romans. It worked quite well ...

The Slipper Orchid (Paphiopedilum)
Picked

The Slipper Orchid (Paphiopedilum) (edited 18th March 2021) Continuing the communing with nature theme ...

The Curse of Art
Picked

 Art always seems to love itself - like self-licking ice-cream… ...

Love, at the helm of things
Picked

The intelligent mind, unable to comprehend love, without lust; opulence, not kind, a poverty-monger; success, taking sides professes failure; in love's presence existence experiences abundance... from the depth of a bombed earth, a green sapling, unconditional affection announces birth; love, at the helm of things dancing, swinging, singing in the middle of all human-made crises ...

With you gone
Picked

When you went away, the spring left from my backyard, the sun was pouring heat in my space, burning the plants, from the soft green to a pale yellow. My house, transformed into a pyre. The crows had their beaks open for a drop of water from the exhausted heaven, trees failed to offer a comforting shade of love. I knew, almost instantly, that a year later, when my space will again be in full ...