27 Jul 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments

07/27 Bruges, Belgium

We found ourselves a small room above a bar not far off the main square of Brugge, claimed ourselves bed, dropped off our stuff and hit the local canals for a little sightseeing.  We roamed among the flower vendors, chocolate shops, lingered behind a cup of coffee and smoked a cigarette while standing on a humped-backed bridge.  I enjoyed the mood of the weeping willows and gazed endlessly at the reflections painted by the water.   (more…)

28 Jul 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 033 I know and sunk before

I know and sunk before my vain despair and knelt, to my own desolation, for fear of the end
day by day, the waters lap the sands away

Inaccessible winds, they do blow and felt, like spring blossoms,
with winter fade and die

one by one, returning where my walk begun

28 Jul 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments

07/28 Brussels Belgium

We headed into Gent to be part of its annual festival.  I, like a honeybee, danced from flower to flower collecting smiles, memorable fragrances.  The next day started off with the similar ritual of walking into Brugge’s main square for a cup of coffee, this time before we jumped a train into Brussels.  We trekked about the old section of the city and checked out the local sites.  Muscles in Brussels and beers, muscles in Brussels and beers.  (more…)

30 Jul 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments

07/30 Neuschwanstein Castle, Germany

I was intrigued with the works of Escher and understood there was an exhibit in the Hage, so I persuaded Jim to board a late train out of Luxembourg.  We arrived in to Rotterdam even later.  There didn’t seem to be anybody but the two of us, the streets were virtually empty.  We wandered toward the lights advertising vacancies and pounded on doors until one finally opened.  The price the gentlemen in pajamas requested was outrageous.  (more…)

30 Jul 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 034 I’ll remember the man

I’ll remember the man, who realized that time, was running away, right out of prime
I’ll remember the man, who spent time, was willing to say, a man’s half a man, until he’s has his day