Costmary

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryThe Eyes of A Cloud Costmary22 years 5 months ago
StoryHabits Costmary02 years 5 months ago
StoryAleph Costmary02 years 5 months ago
StoryThe Watchmaker's Song Costmary05 years 1 month ago
StoryBetween lives Costmary05 years 7 months ago
StoryBefore the rest of us becomes the dust carried by light beams Costmary07 years 1 month ago
StoryThe Woman and the Violin Costmary27 years 1 month ago
StorySubjective mind: reason or treason Costmary07 years 1 month ago
StoryResurrection Costmary28 years 4 months ago
Storywhispering... Costmary09 years 6 months ago
StoryDon't Bend over the Train Window Costmary09 years 7 months ago
StoryThe book of the prodigal son’s daughter Costmary09 years 12 months ago
Story[missing snow] Costmary010 years 1 hour ago
StoryRupestrian Costmary610 years 1 day ago
StoryThe Black Chest of Drawers Costmary010 years 3 days ago
StoryVespers Without Bells Costmary210 years 4 days ago
StoryBy Themselves Costmary210 years 4 days ago
StoryEmbossing Costmary410 years 4 days ago
StoryMembership luigi_pagano610 years 4 days ago
StoryForensic Medicine Costmary010 years 5 days ago
StorySocrates and the number 30 Costmary010 years 5 days ago
StoryI Shall Commit Suicide Another Time Costmary010 years 5 days ago
StorySometimes I see shiny green glass Costmary210 years 5 days ago
StoryThoughts About Poetry Costmary010 years 5 days ago
StoryBaroque Painting: a strict moral code, asserted with buoyancy Costmary010 years 5 days ago

My stories

The Eyes of A Cloud

Once upon a time, there was a cloud. He was alone in an unknown land. He didn't even know how he was born. He did not know when he came there. But...

Habits

Good evening, your highness. How is your sleep now in winter? When leafless walnut trees show their smooth gray bark, Effectively when all the trees...

Aleph

To be old and white And not ashamed to walk in the rain with a black umbrella, To be obviously painted in white Like an old-fashioned mill, So white...

The Watchmaker's Song

I. The first dream and the first chant of the young watchmaker It is only this wind’s chant Steeping deep in my ears The enchanting flowers blooming...

Between lives

it might have been that once upon a time, between lives, I grew long fingers like icicles, as a piano player, I strolled along like the whisper of an...

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Is it life, is it death, is

Posted on Wed, 24 Jun 2015

Is it life, is it death, is it still-life? I like this kind of poems where real things are endowed with special meaning. It is emotion through banality, it is like blooming an otherwise non-magical picture. It is also a hint of mystery...

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Posted in Waiting