25 Jun 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments

06/25 Northern Europe

At first light, Jim took advantage of getting up first and had wandered off to the water closet to do his business.  In his absence, our late night compartment addition opened up mood tapes, the kind of stuff like mountain brooks and ocean waves.  When Jim returned and opened up the compartment door, he first thought he was in the wrong place but his expression of doubt left once he noticed me sitting over in the corner.  The mood tapes were nice, I could live with them.  But they were only a prelude.  (more…)

25 Jun 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 012 The wind blows where it will

“The wind blows where it will, you hear the sound of it but you do not know where it comes from, or where it’s going. If one blind man leads another, don’t they both fall into the ditch?”

25 Jun 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 013 In the beginning

In the beginning, there was the light, all bright, until we turned away to see, until we came to be, one with the shadow
We came to see the show, to see what we could find and watched the shadows dance, on the walls inside our mind.
Captivated by its rhythm, I followed like a child, chasing each and every shadow, with passion almost wild.

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