One Month Later
One month later, the rucksack Is still not unpacked, my backlog Of poetry and fiction still digital, Untranscribed to hand, dreams Left to moulder in sterile boxes Of electrics. The… Continue Reading
Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter
One month later, the rucksack Is still not unpacked, my backlog Of poetry and fiction still digital, Untranscribed to hand, dreams Left to moulder in sterile boxes Of electrics. The… Continue Reading
Ein neuer Tag. Die Zikaden surren im Friedhof. Heute ist Beerdigung, und ein Altes Leben muss gefeiert werden. Dem Tod wird kein Wort gegeben. Die Kerzen sind in der Sonne… Continue Reading
Let’s just be clear – the dreadful weather we are having in the UK right now is directly related to the climate crisis, just like the extreme heat ravaging Italy… Continue Reading
One of the most magical things I have ever experienced happened on two successive nights in Agios Nikolaos – we saw the moon rise from behind the mountains across the… Continue Reading
Die Zikaden schweigen im Schatten. Der Tag war lang und schwer. Der Wind ist zu warm. Hier am Friedhof beim Meer Sind die Bäume weiß bemalt. Die Farbe schmilzt in… Continue Reading
I have reluctantly washed Crete From my skin and dropped The dust of travelling into the Bin in the room’s centre, such Is the loss of leaving. In dreams, my… Continue Reading
I am back, but won’t be updating this site for some time. More important things to do.
Nature’s revenge is a tool of precision. It wraps itself around the poor plans of Men and women who think they Have outwitted her with modern things. Innovation without a… Continue Reading
The ground of the rebellion forest Is thick with age, Kett’s footsteps Long gone under the layers of Time passed, the hollows more Shallow now than then. In the Middle… Continue Reading
Happiness is not my natural habitat. I have often been there, inside that Jungle, but found it too luscious, too Wild, too unpredictable and inconsistent, And retreated beyond its boundaries… Continue Reading