Ishaisms, Poetry

Will o’ th’ Wisp

It’s nearly dusk, the white mists rise, like foam above the waters, and I cannot lie - for the life of me, I’m scared and I could swear I see the strange pale light. I fight to see through the blur and misty skies, I cannot trust the mind nor sight. Yet out there it… Continue reading Will o’ th’ Wisp

Ishaisms, Poetry, Writing

On the folly of it all…

What's in art? Those fleeting passions, unpremeditated escapades and that's all... They tease with fantasy, imaginary lands and magic, leaving behind only memory: lines, hues, rhythm - that's all... Opening lost doors of the mind, into thoughts tucked far away; conjuring a dream that is lived only to abandon, never stay... For once the pen… Continue reading On the folly of it all…