The essence of night is her infinite darkness, that cannot be measured by space or in time. She’s as large or as small
Neon lights buzzed in staccato out… Sleep seemed something I dare not… I took myself looking to ease my a… keeping to steamy side-streets and… heading for the part of town beyon…
The storm is brewing. I smell it in the air. I am panicking. I fear this tempest might cost my life.
Forgiveness? Not on your life. My life was stolen from me. For what?
Some time ago, I made my way down to the crossroads, to try my lucky hand at the devil’s gaming tables.
Within this pilgrim’s soul exists a hungry beggar waif, who can never afford a moment of indifference or distraction. Alert to every aching nuance
Listen. There it is. The hum of perfect silence at the centre of all that is, and isn’t.
1998.... while touring india.... exploring the town of rishikesh a popular hindu pilgrimage site along the banks of the holy mother…
A subtle movement, a facial expression, a particular posture, the constant hint of danger; as if he were here again,
I humbly bow before your tender me… for no other reason than I’m sorry… As I listen to my old pal, Leonar… crooning out his holy tunes, there’s a message sounding clear
For those who only know oasis it must be difficult to fathom another way of life beyond the wal… amidst the shifting dunes. Those that follow gypsy trails
It was in those early days when everything seemed technicolor there was that explosion only inward then nothing
I saw him for the first time ever; the one who stole my soul away. He appeared in a dream. I had never seem him before, yet no doubt it was him.
My love for you is true, though we have never met. I will not lie to you. I will not steal from you. I will not con or cheat you.
Alone, in the same old crowd, trying to ignore this stifling pain. I am but
