robtclements
Profile
I’m not an artist but an occasional-when the credit card allows-collector; & found myself on redbubble after purchasing a work by Sarah Moore . Intriguing.
Other artists that i try to support regularly – either via redbubble or with original works – are Mayu & Samantha
Another way that i’ve found to keep my bank balance low is loaning money to third world entrepreneurs through kiva.org & more recently wokai.org . Nothing breaks the darkness of a seriously lousy day faster than knowing that you can help someone in Cambodia buy pigs
After a highly turbulent year & a bit, i’m now living with my wonderful Teresa. She is the joy of my life – but she can be a handful, too. I love her
My facebook page is here & In my spare time, i write strange, vaguely visionary poetry & fiction, some of which i’m posting here . I hope people like it
Groups
robtclements is a member of All Things Poetic, Artistic, Philosophical, Art Inspired by Dreams, Art of Erotic Visions, Atheism, DaDa Land, Family Likeness, Flash Fiction, Sci Fi , Sydney, The Industrial Nude , Two Word Challenge, WMG and Woman Appreciation.
Journal Entries
Seriously dumb questions
Posted about 1 year ago, 5 comments so far.
Consider the stargate
Posted about 1 year ago, 8 comments so far.
Writing
Plato
This content is not visible because the safe filter is on.Words, with love
Once, when i was dreaming / i saw your face. / You were smiling, radiant / in love / Your eyes were sparkling / You told me not to fear / my hopes / my love / Told me that the soul was in being free …
Joust
We stood alone, together, holding fast against the winds of rock-strewn sand into which we had emerged. Mountains of red tinder surrounded us, controlled us, blocked our forward way; while trees of e…
Words, with loss
I do not remember The moment when we met is carved in gold & dreams / like a magic, secret corridor / through the silent fortress of my mind You wore a bright yellow skirt / that fluttered i…
Contagion
She lived in a house, an old house in which only true people should live. It was a beautiful house, with high broken windows & dark crumbling walls; & she lived there, alone, like a person. …
In the realm of machines: prelude, part one
In the realm of machines, there was silence
