Dream Time – Free Verse – January 7, 2015

Charing Cross Road, 1937 by Wolfgang Suschitzky

Turn on the light
What time is it, what day?
Thursday morning –  2:00 a.m.

Turning off the light
Falling asleep I dream
As the hours pass

Time expands,




Now… I’m out for a walk
Up the side of a mountain
Climbing, climbing
Higher and higher
The wind, whistles in my ears
The birds fly overhead,
Crows cawing, finches twittering



As pebbles fall

It begins to rain
Great crystal drops run down a window pane
Puddles form in the streets
Flashing street-lights
Splashing in the cold blackness
Wet feet – numb, frozen
No Sir Walter
Missed the trolley…

Hear the siren …
The ferry leaves the dock
The  tower clock
Tick, tick, ticks
Louder and louder
With a start, I wake-up

Turn on the light
What time is it, what day?
Thursday morning – 2:05 a.m.

Turning off the light ….

© G.s.k. ‘16

Sunday Whirligig – July 5, 2015



walking in a misty world
of silence beyond life’s beginning
everything yet to come
no people – no talk
in this primordial place
I shake my head
trying to go beyond
this place that is a nowhere
awakening at the crack of dawn
I shudder to think this might be, our tomorrow.

© G.s.k. ‘15

THIS WEEK’S WORDS come from Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami, and were selected by Old Egg, who blogs at Robin’s Nest: misty, world, talk, everything, beginning, silence, beyond, nowhere, people, head, again, place

Dreaming – Haibun – April 25, 2015


There are mornings when I wake-up and I wonder if I’m really awake or if this is the dream part of my existence.  I’m not being rhetorical – no Zen messages hidden between the lines, just a thought that occurs from time to time.

Dreaming is one of my favourite pass-times.  I’m not even one of those persons that sleep 8 hours a day but when I sleep, I dream.

Some of the most beautiful journeys I’ve ever taken were while I was asleep.  A beautiful trip through some fantastic countryside or exploring a dusty ancient mansion and so on.  My favourite dream is a trip through a city with all it’s winding streets and plazas.  Once in this city, I took a long bus ride, just enjoying the sights.

The people I meet are not always pleasant, sometimes they’re really scary sometimes silly and sometimes they’re people I’ve known but whom I haven’t seen in ages.  I don’t remember ever meeting any beautiful mystical persons.  Sometimes I don’t meet anyone at all but I hear a voice telling me this thing or that.  This morning, I was having a Latin lesson – clearly a left-over from my evening out with a few of my students who were talking about their school days – however the last word I remember in the dream was not Latin at all but the Greek letter ‘iota’!

“To sleep perchance to dream”  said the Bard through Hamlet, ” For in that sleep of death what dreams may come.”  I wonder … what will become of ‘me’ when that day comes.  Will this life become the dream … or will this energy that is me become part of the whole mass of energy that is the Universe blending everything into a non memory.  Who knows.

in this dream
reflections of a puddle
without the moon

© G.s.k. ‘15

Wandering and Dreaming – Haibun – December 11, 2014

© Alastair Forbes

There are moments when one just begins to walk.  Maybe there’s been an argument maybe it’s a moment of meditation, it doesn’t really matter; one foot in front of another without a special goal, one begins to walk.

The port at night in Djibouti was a favorite goal during the evenings.  The days were always so hot and humid.  We’d start walking from the house after dinner and eventually arrive at the little kiosk near the tourist docks, you always ordered a can of cold chocolate milk, I preferred tonic water.

The cool breeze was inviting, sometimes we’d meet a friend or acquaintance,  sometimes we’d just sit on the dock and look out at the Indian Ocean, dreaming.  Dreaming … we meandered the world in dreams … the catamaran we’d build, the house we’d build in an African village, the books we’d write … dreaming was our trademark as a couple.

One day, I stopped dreaming but you didn’t.  You couldn’t stop so you kept on wandering and dreaming by yourself.  Now you too have stopped dreaming and you’ve reached your goal.  I think you were never lost though,  you knew where you were and in the end you called home.

one foot before another
never lost

(c) G.s.k. ’14


“Not all those who wander are lost”
J.R.R. Tolkien (The Fellowship of the Ring)

Linked to Haibun Thinking