on the edge of seeing
when nothing is left to be seen
when nothing is left to be seen
on the edge of life
when nothing is left to be lived
i wait for her
wondering, what dreams she needs to be stirred enough of
to pick that pen and paper
and give me something to look back upon
on the edge of desires
all i need, is a letter from her
this is something i wrote in response to a comment left by debra on my previous post. she has a fantastic blog which you can visit at http://www.debrabroughton.com/
this is what she says in her introduction, “I’m a British writer living in Amsterdam. I like to think that being an utsider adds something to my writing, but I can’t say for sure. I work on the Friends of the Earth International website, where I write, edit, program…”
do visit her blog, ‘nothing to write home about’, it’ll be much better than that;)
Born in New Delhi, India in 1980 and is a retired pessimist (still) living in New Delhi. He has Haryanvi ancestors, a Punjabi girlfriend, friends all over the world, two (or more) yet to be born children, (many) memories of (many) pet dogs and no cats ever. He holds an honours degree in English Literature from the University of Delhi and creates advertisements for paying the bills. His interests are universal, and include: living, eating, sleeping and when not sleeping, daydreaming. Other abiding interests include reading, writing, street photography, newspaper editorials, watching the moon and planning trekking trips that never materialize.
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