As I Climb That Mountain again after months of exile, the familiar route feels distant and new. As though my mind is in Aporia, I look up at the old map that worked its way… Read More »napowrimo- 16- april 2020- aporia
Art is a succulent to an artist. The form of art could be his/her paintings, poems, music, dance, singing and list goes on. Many spend years finding its nuances or learning them and few bring… Read More »Olga Bueva -Spoken Artwork
Her sunshades flickered on the window panes of a parked SUV, a Corolla Altis to be precise.Her brown eyes waited with bated breath through the grey lenses while she adjusted her bag, fidgeted with her… Read More »In a Spot
He finally wore that broken smile,a smile not many appreciated, but there’s something incomplete which filled my soul with its half curved lines.That smile was just needed when I knew I couldn’t expect a word… Read More »Broken Smile
In that hardly lit room, with just a pale yellow lamp,he sat moonfaced staring at his ironed clothes that hung loosely on the fragile hangers.The long overcoat followed by his grey leather jacket,his collection of… Read More »The Yellow Lamp
Peach shaded shirt became the cynosure of my eyes, the crisp linen on his broad chested shoulders rolled up casually into his roque arms, fairly enjoying the cool quotient set by few buttons opened lurched… Read More »Peached
