In Prague there is a cemetery filled with open graves. Chapter 11 of “The Secret Life of Stone”.
In Prague there is a cemetery filled with open graves. Chapter 11 of “The Secret Life of Stone”.
Another monster emerges from the bowels of Prague. Chapter 9 of “The Secret Life of Stone”.
A “Friday the 13th”-inspired installment of Zuzu’s Love Letter Project.
Two very different perspectives of side-by-side Prague statues. Chapter 6 of “The Secret Life of Stone”.
Chapter 5 in The Secret Life of Stone, Zuzu explores one of Prague’s little-known denizens: The Vampire.
Approaching the ten-year memorial of my dear friend Wendy’s murder and I am struggling, still, to process the event and all the time that has passed.
Something monstrous lurks in Prague’s Vltava River, and it isn’t toxic sludge from Hungary. Chapter 3 in The Secret Life of Stone.
This guy is up to no good. No good at all. Chapter 2 of The Secret Life of Stone.
A found poem made up of song lyrics for this week’s www.redroom.com blog competition. My blog from last week, “The Sneeze”, was noted on their website as an honourable mention. Yeah!
By closing the book ends this beloved story fairy tale lament. **** Night falls early now shadows repeating backwards her caustic lament. **** Lament without me windfall of time-travelled bliss through a cold echo. **** Fog heralds Winter lament this passing yearful measure towards Spring.
To invent time one Floats between then and now reaps Memory’s echo. **** Autumn ray of love before Winter’s cold embrace you will invent me. **** My straight and narrow wishful thinking leads inside fallen tree branches. **** Narrow creviced heart fallen leaves of love’s lost grasp towards broken skies. **** Nature’s narrow path downward…
Walking the minor miracle of your freedom streets teem with fall joy. **** Minor flooding here my heart, this blossom of love truly, madly, deep. **** History recedes minor ripples in velvet revolution day. (Inspired by the amazing events in Prague that marked 20 years since the Velvet Revolution.)
America, I trusted you with my life and you stole my innocence. America, no dollars nor credit card cents, October 28, 2000. I can’t stand my own memories. America, when will you end your genocides? Go fuck yourself with your right to bear arms. My uterus has been poisoned since your doctors put their hands…
Your dinosaur petals wilted and dessicated.I plucked them and kept them, maintaining their perfect purple shape,I could not bring myself to toss your mummifying parts.It’s the same now with the rest of you:Wilted, dessicated, splitting and browning — a heart torn in two. I’m sorry I could not substitute the sun and keep you warm,I…
singing seems to helpa waiting soul-feb. 14, 2007 **** my own personalangel-feb. 13, 2007 **** i guess i was born,naturally borna hoochie coochie woman.-feb. 11, 2007 **** my first night at fight clubwish you were here-feb. 9, 2007 **** i can kick it, yes i canso move, bitch,get out the way.-feb. 9, 2007 **** the…
Via Lingua GranadaTEFL, in haikuJune 27, 2006 Arriving at school Via Lingua summer day Nervous excitement. Give them the chicken, Says Tim, not just an egg to Be learning English. Smog, mist, there are so Many words for fog in the Cold English language. Antonia’s late Arrival to class because A broken down bus Carls…
a tattoois like love:being lost in a grand landscape of rosebushes,wounded wandering rawand eternally healing.
and for once, i will not write a love letterbut a poemand this poemwill express my discontentbecause i do not knowand there is a song playingthat makes me feel like cryingor maybe i am just drunkbut in this momenti want to saythat i do not knowwhat love means when said such as thisthis is enough…