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Forum topicNick Griffin alan_benefit3619 years 7 months ago
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Forum topicIsrael buys 2 nuclear capable submarines. styx1819 years 11 months ago
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Forum topicCudo Cudo's "I am surprised we can take what we want from the world" galfreda720 years 2 weeks ago
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Forum topicAre Writers Special People? Jack Cade1420 years 2 weeks ago
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Forum topicIs Labour Buggered? styx3920 years 3 weeks ago
Forum topicAntidote to the scary Israel/Lebanon stuff pepsoid6120 years 3 weeks ago
Forum topicEverybody In The Free World Should Be Forced To Watch This Programme mississippi6720 years 3 weeks ago
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Forum topicIambs and Trochees Jack Cade720 years 1 month ago
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Forum topicOwen. richardw520 years 1 month ago

My stories

Cherry

Persepolis

Persepolis We live alone in the high mountains, where time ends, at least it seems so. This is the landscape of dreams, this is the firmament of delights. It was lost, once it was lost: and if I came this way again

Mazandaran

Mazandaran Our dreams are in the mountain tops, where the blue sky, Pure, preserves them; canopies our minds with longing. Here, on the stone path, hallowed by history, holy, The shepherdess still walks in Mazandaran, by

Tehran

Tehran The wind blows cold from Mount Damavand, the blue peak aged with memory, white with the chill of autumn, whispers welcome to the dear ravaged heart, bringing rest. Brings me caresses, a voice that still would speak

Dies Irae

Dies Irae Fuego, they said, nothing more, and then the fire, high on the hills. I could see it, and feel the warm wind over the water carrying cries, my village brightly lit. Running, they were all running, I could hear

Her Life

A sonnet for Edna St. Vincent Millay, an individualist and maverick. She died alone at 58, sitting at the bottom of her stairs. I wrote this following the format of one of her own sonnets. Her Life

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