noun pl.

1. an act or instance of talking to oneself
2.  lines in which a character reveals his or her thoughts to the audience, but not to the other characters, by speaking as if to himself or herself

Origin: soliloquiumsolus, alone and loqui, to speak

Caught between two windows…

I house the sweet kiss of summer upon one cheek while the chilled fingers of winter stroke at the curls caressing my neck, I count the stars and map history upon them, kiss the first rays of sunlight with prayer and make love to the witching hour on the regular. I believe that silence is it’s own language and tomorrow is already written. I couldn’t live without my phone … it’s my lifeline! Coffee roasted mornings are a must!! Coffee… O! The smooth sensual warmth… coffee! Dancehall never fails to move my hips and Miles Davis makes me croon “Oooh… that’s some kind of Jazz”. White peaches are the nectar of Heaven, love is precious and a smile should never be taken for granted. Human touch is essential to a healthy humanity, music is the language of the soul, the scent of rain is intoxicating, the tender words of a lover can mend a broken heart and it’s OK to fail… let me catch my breath then repeat that…

-takes a deep breath and exhales, slowly-

Yes! It really is OK to fail! There is a lesson in every experience no matter how meaningless it appears!

Did you know that ‘wantings’ become habit and some would say, we’re all slaves to our addictions. What am I addicted to besides coffee…? My pen. I’m addicted to my pen; the way it feels as I cradle its smooth cold surface in my hand, the comfort as it warms to my touch, the way it glides over blank white pages that are devoid of any form of character or personality with just enough weight and just enough friction that I feel the slow purposeful sculpting of each delectable word as it spills my mental wanderings on the page like a wineglass filled to overflowing, ceremoniously contorting my cognition’s into a rather flavorsome conference, a sweet state of equilibrium. The pen is my beloved friend.. yes indeed, ink feathering is the melody of my soul.

Memories are an ever increasing structural relationship expanding and changing over time due an increase in experience which leads to a modification and expansion of schema. Cognitive development is central to (us, the human organism) and language a contingent of… perhaps this is why I find reading people so much more fascinating than watching them. While 85+% of communication is non-verbal and I find it fascinating observing this oftentimes subconscious display of personality and interaction, in different settings and while, on it’s own it lends itself to a conceivable and qualitative analysis of an individual impossible to do so without having that opportunity of observation, there is nothing rather so delicious as reading someones mental wanderings which are frequently spilled on empty pages absent from notions of voyeuristic readers, a little like myself.

I believe that thoughts can create an equation whereby habit becomes action and action creates consequence…

...mind your thoughts.



The fine print: I guess I should add that everything you read posted here is mine, unless otherwise stated; copyright held by yours truly… just ask, if you wish to use something. I don’t bite.. promise!

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.


58 thoughts on “About

    • -blushing- You, humble me. It is my joy and my honour to wander in the field of your mind, sun pressed to my cheek, the chatter of birds, somewhere nearby….
      One day, I’ll take you up on that glass of wine in the moonlight…

  1. for one to so bravely lay your heart before us, opening your tender vulnerability, it seems hard to imagine you blushing….your words are as intoxicating as the sweet music that i am so blessed to have pass through the vessel of my heart (i’m primarily a musician) they seem to reach to the divine within the sensual, to lose oneself so completely in the Beloved, something to which i aspire in my quixotic quest for meaningful grace. i’m so pleased to ‘meet’ such a special talent…

  2. First, thanks for liking my poem …. (I updated it a little, so you should go read it again!)

    Now I am enthralled by the words I read on your page and now here in this intro … I couldn’t stop reading your intro… I loved every word … I feel like I could have heard you talking; such wonderful writing … I am convinced that your voice is as sultry as your words on the page are …

    Thank you so much for letting me read your words … I’ll be subscribing now 🙂

  3. Stunning.

    I’m glad you stumbled upon my blog and liked my poem, for your words are beauty incarnate. Like others, I read this as if I was hearing your voice, the words rolling like the undulating waves in a river; soft and smooth, yet fresh and crisp.

    Simply stunning. 🙂

  4. you’re probably one of the most sensuous writers I’ve come across in my tangle with the Internet yarn — even though fame, wealth, and all similar distractions havent presented themselves yet to dull our inspiration, we serve the arts, weaving literature with 1’s and 0’s — twitter.com/haikuczar

  5. You write beautifully, soothing words, more fountain pen gliding, lessBiro pen frictiony scratchy (I imagined that as I typed, hoping to describe your writing better-if it makes sense). Glad to have stumbled upon your Twitter & now WordPress.

  6. Thank you for liking my poem “Bench”, and for following my blog. Also, thank you for adding your voice to the world. Every piece of beauty helps, in the end.

    I’ve “Liked” your Facebook page.

      • I wish it hadn’t touched you. Not because I’m not honored (I am) but because I would rather not have written the poem. Sadly, heartbreak creates some of the most meaningful and beautiful art. “Bench” is my contribution to the cacophony that springs from Love’s pain.

      • Its true. Pain does open a path to the beautiful, to the creative, to the self. It offers those with the courage to ‘feel’ a closer more holistic relatedness with the world. I believe its that pain and that courage which allows some to let go of certainties, of vulnerabilities, which in turn, provides the perfect canvas for art… to lay bare the soul…

        I appreciate those who share this, with such eloquent articulation… it truly is I who is thankful.

      • Letting Go of Certainties…that’s an interesting concept I’m going to explore further on my blog at some point. It is true that we box ourselves in with our “certainties”, stifling growth and closing off new experiences. Breaking that habit is no easy task, though. Certainties add order to our otherwise chaotic world, and that is sometimes both good and necessary. Sadly, it’s also terribly painful now and then. In many respects I don’t mind being uncertain and open to different paths–but the space in my heart that needs–NEEDS–the closest of kinship with just one person…for that space, certainty is a requirement. Perhaps someday that will change, but not today. And on this day, the uncertainty is damaging to my soul.

      • That damage to your soul, is best addressed by Rumi. “The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”

        We must let go of the past in order to enjoy new moments as they are intended to be experienced, and you’re right, this is something most find extremely difficult to do. It is only through learning the lessons from the experience and letting go of the experience itself that one is able to do this.

        Uncertainty coerces man to explore himself and his existence…

        If we are to break it down on a deeper level, there are only three certainties in life: this moment, death and the true essence of love. Man transcended this natural world and in that transcendence became separated from it. The virtue of reason calls man to embrace the whole of his experience, to embrace his separateness from the natural world in which he abides, to evolve in consciousness. Yet, in amongst our fear of separateness we find ourselves in a desperate search for connectedness, clinging to false certainties that offer a spurious sense of stability in a world we are so disconnected from.

        One who resides within himself with sensitivity and dignity cannot help but feel isolated and powerless at times. And that space in the heart you speak of, looks for a bridge, for the answer to the predicament of the human experience… for the true essence of love.

        And I, look forward to reading your musings on Letting Go of Certainties -smiles-

        “Love is a decision, it is a judgment, it is a promise. If love were only a feeling, there would be no basis for the promise to love each other forever. A feeling comes and it may go. How can I judge that it will stay forever, when my act does not involve judgment and decision.” ~ Erich Fromm, The Art Of Loving

      • You are extremely well-read, and subsequently insightful. I don’t know what to add to what you’ve already provided here, and couldn’t so eloquently cover the ground anyway.

        But in my arrogance, I will try. Soon. -grin-

  7. So it seems, rather than wandering from bank to bank,
    I would come here and drink from a cup,
    that holds water from all the rivers, that bear a drop of my life… my thirst…

  8. Good evening,
    i like your blog. Your post are very interisting.
    I invite you to visit my intercultural blog: http://parolesemplici.wordpress.com/mytinbox/
    I define this blog “In parole Semplici” as a “virtuacultural tin box” where they are guarded thoughts, memories, images, sounds, and simple stories.

    My dream is to create a intercultural blog with authors from around the world.
    Do you want to collaborate for “In parole Semplici”?
    I’ll wait your reply:


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s