The Pescetarian Poet
fishy scribbles for fussy nibbles
A period of creativity exploring the different and indifferent.
Whilst waiting to recover my wind ...
A pennyworth of birthday afterthought.
It was a less productive evening ...
Is destiny a destination? Or is it a dream passing by ... so close and yet so far?
Perhaps, the insane are happier.
Some duty calls ...
After a much overdue visit at the Lion Rock ...
Mathematically, the tic-tac-toe is a futile game ... Not so sure about world politics.
A little corny -- can't help it.
And we're all in it.
Here's a poem about my favourite hero in the factory.
I know, I know, I'm three days early for the half moon.
Apparently, I'm reviewing our finances tonight.
Enough of moaning and groaning, time for my left brain to take over.
Too moody? I blame it on the dreary sky of South China's spring.
First post in my second year of blogging.
Somewhere in here, beneath the blood moonlight, someone’s thinking of me and bugging me tonight.
A parody of Robert Frost’s Nothing Gold Can Stay.
My first sestina.
A shoeless kick-off of the year.
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