thewestlondonletterwriter

Primary tabs

TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryFresh Air thewestlondonle...09 years 8 months ago
StoryWalking Past (St Chad's to the Marina) thewestlondonle...211 years 2 weeks ago
StoryFragments Written in Manchester thewestlondonle...011 years 2 weeks ago
StoryBi-polar thewestlondonle...011 years 5 months ago
StoryBeing Broken thewestlondonle...111 years 5 months ago
StoryBecause I Do Not Hope to Turn Again thewestlondonle...011 years 5 months ago
StoryAn Image of a City Still There thewestlondonle...011 years 5 months ago
StoryA Parodox thewestlondonle...011 years 5 months ago
StoryA Few Haikus thewestlondonle...111 years 5 months ago
Story"The past walks among us..." thewestlondonle...011 years 5 months ago
CollectionWhat are poets for? thewestlondonle...111 years 5 months ago
Collectionin Paris thewestlondonle...011 years 5 months ago
StoryWalking Out Out of the City thewestlondonle...011 years 7 months ago
StoryPoem in the style of John Ashbery thewestlondonle...011 years 7 months ago
StoryPhases thewestlondonle...011 years 7 months ago
StoryMarching Dilemmas thewestlondonle...011 years 7 months ago
StoryStump Sitters thewestlondonle...011 years 7 months ago
StoryKeeping Shtum thewestlondonle...011 years 7 months ago
Storyoutside staring in and inside staring out thewestlondonle...011 years 7 months ago
StoryPlace du Pantheon, May 21, 2008, 8.35pm, sat on steps thewestlondonle...111 years 7 months ago
StoryRaskolnikov thewestlondonle...011 years 7 months ago
StoryThe Abject Point at which You Say No thewestlondonle...011 years 7 months ago
Storythe storm thewestlondonle...011 years 7 months ago
StoryThe Splitting of a City Far Apart thewestlondonle...011 years 7 months ago
StoryThe Smile of a Sun-Drenched City thewestlondonle...011 years 7 months ago

My collections

My stories

Fragments Written in Manchester

for Amy the streets I miss the concrete jungle! the old town the Northern Quarter the walk along the canals the brief time we went running the august sun the happiness

Poem in the style of John Ashbery

Empty of everything the cloud looks magnificent, The sun has gone and all dark the conifer looks at me, And music always outside my window makes sense

Parisian Haikus

Sat on the hilltop at the Sacre Coeur Looking down at the city Walking in the Fifth lost in the hustling crowd rats in the sewer My open window the flood of a violin

Reading Virginia Woolf

Sitting in the cafe, Arthur, inspired by the passage of text he was reading, was overwhelmed by despondency, by a sense of the past and mistakes made.

Phases

I came to this late still late from all the past nuances of imagination, of self-creation - seems like I've been this and that thing a distraction, but always interesting nonetheless -

Pages