Costmary

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryThe Eyes of A Cloud Costmary23 years 1 month ago
StoryHabits Costmary03 years 1 month ago
StoryAleph Costmary03 years 1 month ago
StoryThe Watchmaker's Song Costmary05 years 9 months ago
StoryBetween lives Costmary06 years 3 months ago
StoryBefore the rest of us becomes the dust carried by light beams Costmary07 years 9 months ago
StoryThe Woman and the Violin Costmary27 years 9 months ago
StorySubjective mind: reason or treason Costmary07 years 9 months ago
StoryResurrection Costmary29 years 1 week ago
Storywhispering... Costmary010 years 2 months ago
StoryDon't Bend over the Train Window Costmary010 years 2 months ago
StoryThe book of the prodigal son’s daughter Costmary010 years 8 months ago
Story[missing snow] Costmary010 years 8 months ago
StoryRupestrian Costmary610 years 8 months ago
StoryThe Black Chest of Drawers Costmary010 years 8 months ago
StoryVespers Without Bells Costmary210 years 8 months ago
StoryBy Themselves Costmary210 years 8 months ago
StoryEmbossing Costmary410 years 8 months ago
StoryMembership luigi_pagano610 years 8 months ago
StoryForensic Medicine Costmary010 years 8 months ago
StorySocrates and the number 30 Costmary010 years 8 months ago
StoryI Shall Commit Suicide Another Time Costmary010 years 8 months ago
StorySometimes I see shiny green glass Costmary210 years 8 months ago
StoryThoughts About Poetry Costmary010 years 8 months ago
StoryBaroque Painting: a strict moral code, asserted with buoyancy Costmary010 years 8 months ago

My stories

The Eyes of A Cloud

Once upon a time, there was a cloud. He was alone in an unknown land. He didn't even know how he was born. He did not know when he came there. But...

Habits

Good evening, your highness. How is your sleep now in winter? When leafless walnut trees show their smooth gray bark, Effectively when all the trees...

Aleph

To be old and white And not ashamed to walk in the rain with a black umbrella, To be obviously painted in white Like an old-fashioned mill, So white...

The Watchmaker's Song

I. The first dream and the first chant of the young watchmaker It is only this wind’s chant Steeping deep in my ears The enchanting flowers blooming...

Between lives

it might have been that once upon a time, between lives, I grew long fingers like icicles, as a piano player, I strolled along like the whisper of an...

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Is it life, is it death, is

Posted on Wed, 24 Jun 2015

Is it life, is it death, is it still-life? I like this kind of poems where real things are endowed with special meaning. It is emotion through banality, it is like blooming an otherwise non-magical picture. It is also a hint of mystery...

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Posted in Waiting