Hot damp heat Heavy, humid, treacle Interrupted By the seismic roars Of angry grey titans Exploding above. Sky ignited by the tectonic clashes Of celestial fists, My windowpane trembles And I bask in the echoed promise Of heaven-beamed discord. If you look hard enough You can almost see Zeus and Atlas Waging their […]Read More Monsoon Season
What stability remains When even mountains waver? When sanity crumbles in staccato stutters, Razing cliffs and levelling ridges In urgent avalanches, Desperately barrelling toward the beyond below? Robbing spiralling peaks Of ancient candyfloss crowns So that their bare bones may be whipped By searing surges Of rarefied air, Locked in an eternal tug-of-war Raw […]Read More Resilience
When Now comes along With a left hook to the gut It’s instinct that insists Elsewhere Is Was Would be Better. Self-preservation – The quartz at the core Of a spluttering Human dynamo, Beating ceaselessly Despite being drowned In the murky molasses Of all-engulfing instants. When Now comes along With a left hook […]Read More Presence
I met myself in the mirror Only, my eyes Told me I’d grown grey, withered, And died. Skin stretched taut Over bare, vacuumed bone A corpse with a beard No wiser, just old. /// One day I will step Off that precarious ledge, Fall into the void, Crack open my head And under […]Read More The Final Fall
We are Only who We are Once we’ve outrun, Exhausted, Bled dry, The relentless Constraints Of who we pretend to be. Only once The masks are stowed And the shackles of pretence Break under the duress Of ceaseless, raw Barebone and bloodied knuckles, Can we finally elude Those self-constructed captors, Running towards familiar […]Read More Survival
Each of us an ocean – An ebb and flow – A tug-of-war Being torn between Memory Who we wish to be who we pretend to be & who we really are Standing atop the rarified peaks, – Those colossal waves Of immutable drive & infinite possibility – The horizon you’ve spent lifetimes lusting for, […]Read More Breathe.
I wonder if sun rays String the harp that God plays While She strums the melodies Of all the tragedies that Need to be Need to be? // Needlessly? Or maybe it’s strung up with carcasses And the heavens run on darknesses Fed by that never-ending dynamo Of live – suffer – let-go […]Read More Who made who?