James AraucariaNakedI love to see the city naked Rid of all the people I hope tonight that she will make it I just can’t wait to meet her Those streets lined…Aug 16, 2019Aug 16, 2019
James AraucariaParchedMy mother is life My father is dust My flesh and my bones Are made of earth’s crustJul 19, 2019Jul 19, 2019
James AraucariaTo the artist, from a young manI saw your latest canvas, sir On my drive to work today I couldn’t tear my eyes away from it They kept asking me to stray From the road or…Jun 28, 2019Jun 28, 2019
James AraucariaThe weekendThe weekend comes and goes And poetry turns into proseJun 2, 2019Jun 2, 2019
James AraucariaAsk the riversWhatever comes must go Just ask the rivers — it’s how they flow Some travel days before they bend Some barely start before they end An…May 30, 2019May 30, 2019
James AraucariaA chair, a desk, a reading lightA chair, a desk, a reading light A pair of gray socks on the floor An open suitcase by the door So starts the quiet nomad nightMay 22, 2019May 22, 2019
James AraucariaClose to my heart, eternally bound Invisible strings between us Pulling me back as soon as I go…The hills pass me by, the rivers — they slither Thinking they’ve got me all trapped Pushing me forward, as fast as they can Whispering…May 20, 2019May 20, 2019
James AraucariaThe Rather Unextraordinary Undoing of Comrade BlobfishAn unlikely story that might be unfolding as we speak. Set in a small country in what once was known as Eastern Europe.Apr 6, 2019Apr 6, 2019