Friend, I who dreamt about you, you who dreamt about me, I was barefoot you were nude, both of us with children´s games. Friend, where are those paths that we travelled together? Where is that...

Your daddy can do many things for you, Yet there is one he can't, it seems. Alone, alone, you must alone Go find the land of dreams. And I have taught you many things, but this May be the...

I feel, not see, the cards I tightly hold. I dread to read my fortune in my hand. I pick up what I'm dealt. I've not been told the rules as yet. Few games I understand. If poker I should...

08/08/2010 talawas feedback interview Nguyen Quoc Chanh Nguyen Institute on Congress and writer Vietnam Hoang Ngoc - Tuan * : Today, 04/08/2010 , Vietnam Congress Writers Eighth taking place in...

Not just a game (a test of patience, skill, a chance for us to scratch our heads and rap our fingers) It was fun. Oh what a thrill, surprised and satisfied, to hear that snap. No...

I can't forgive myself for feeling trapped. Resentments grow. This isn't what I planned. My faith begins to fade. I can't adapt. I slither off from where I used to stand. My old convictions...

Religious and spiritual prose poem by aspiring poet Peter Menkin, written and recorded for audio by the writer. About a rooming house in Larkspur, California USA (north of San Francisco). This is...