Welcome to this jumble sale of writings, musings, observations and inspirations: I hope you find something to help you on your journey home. It's all storytelling, in the end. That's how we understand things; the stories of who we are, where we came from, where we're headed. The stories of other people, how they came to be who they are, which stories shaped them, why our stories sometimes run parallel, and sometimes clash.
When we're motivated enough, we can change our stories, write new outcomes for ourselves and our people, our planet. All it takes is imagination, where there are, genuinely, no limits.
Warmest regards
Peter Neary-Chaplin
Writer. Poet.
Friday, March 6, 2009 at 08:59AM Swinging round the sunny dahlias,
cresting a white river of air along the border's edge
it dives into an eddy,
probing the Anagallis,
hovers,
then plunges headfirst-heedless
into the open blue trumpet,
arse up,
fine-whiskered legs scrambling,
pressing hard into the lemon-yellow dust.
Silent baby sucks,
a short, sated somnolence.
Then a rough shove
out again
into the current and on.
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