For the poetry enthusiasts and those who enjoy eccentric thought processes


Glazed gaze

Mind dazed

Limbs weak

Eyes tricked

Bones ache

Flesh raked

Tears sore

Fresh gore

Nature has no expectations

Brush back the messy wisps of hair from your sweet face
Weakly drooping fronds have to be combed back into a corner where nature does not exist
Iron the creases beside your laughing eyes
But the trunks of trees bear the scars of time
Refresh your sallow, sagging cheeks
But don’t erase the yellow edges on the daisies’ sun-tips
Dry up your tear tracks before anyone sees
But the weeping willows have been imprinted in a thousand memories

Playground Noise

Late nights at 8pm

Wind rising over our voices and voices rising over the wind

We circle the same slides and the same swings

Ten, twenty times

Like aimless racecars zooming unseeingly around tracks

I remember the laughter the wind brought us

Tickling fresh faces and raising no worries

I am trying to collect the joy now,  frantically clawing at spilt water that seeps into the permeable earth

It waxes my fingers with the lightest gleam, but my jar is empty

of the earth

Paper powder

Crushed root and bark sterilised to an icy finish

Graphite makes its midnight mark

tattoo my tongue

Tattoo my tongue with the promise of tomorrow

With every taste my blood rises

Still somehow confined to the streets of my veins

WInding like pale blue rivers


Tattoo my tongue, and judge me for the words I speak

Because you don’t hear words, syllables or whispers

Actions scream

And words are left to die

Better off a work of art

Than a faulty tool of speech

Reduce every sound to powder

Trap in my throat a desperate screech


In one-millionth of a second, a whisper ripples between two worlds

And the next- broken connection; the fissure widens until the world before me lies in perfect clarity

One second, two seconds

The walls fall and

Darkness is a seamless universe

One millisecond, two milliseconds

The earth has lost its hold on me

speaking in tongues

I am lost in the roots of this country; they unravel in my open palm like shriveled threads

With precise stitches I sew my lips together, rusty machine of disuse that is seas away from the

Fluent currents that flowed from our forebears’ tongues

I hold my flesh together with what I cannot say, every stitch one step closer to a lifetime of conformity

I speak

And the liquid that gathers on my tongue is nothing close

To the warm water enveloped in the embrace of fertile, earthly soil

My words are lubricated with the cold rain that slithers off leaves in murky droplets

Like the millions of drops that fall to the earth

And pray to be lodged in secure soil


Stale blood rests on crumpled scripts

A dizzying hurricane of circled numerals and capital letters

My feet have been long cast in iron

They drag along their rusty tracks of habit


But in a rush flesh overwhelms the machine

Limbs vibrating in a compelling desire, the pure need to

Be free

I cannot 

Stop the torrents of lava that scald my veins and explode inside

The heart that pounds like a rock avalanche roaring down an unforgiving slope

The sadistic want to let my muscles burn with acidic ache and

Let pain be the only thing I know bringing me forward until every movement, every word, every breath, is but a numbness that I don’t know

The nails have come loose

‘I love you’

This is how the words

Feel like on my lips



Mouth opens in a breathless gasp

For air

Just as how


Every beginning can be


A kite that has just learnt to fly

Is unlikely to

Give up

Its place among the clouds

It flaps wild wings

It rises on every

Wisp of wind



Tongue flicks briefly

Against the roof of your mouth

Teeth slip past wet lips

Speak with conviction and


Maybe your flesh will bear bite marks


You think that maybe if

You drink sugar

Live and breathe in

Clouds of saccharine dreams

The bitterness will not taste quite as

Blatant but

The black coffee tastes

Like the nastiest nightmare in your mouth



Mouth closes

Lips narrow

A steady stream of air flows through like a

Haunting last note

It ends smaller than

It began

A bare whisper

After that the silence seems to last forever


You sit on the couch

So comfortable it has become


Waiting for a reply to the

Days old voicemail message that has sailed off on electric currents

No reply no reply no reply maybe it is lost at sea

The phone slick with grimy perspiration


Out of your grasp

It crashes into the stale cup

Upon which hopeful fingerprints were once


Now they are


As the coffee deforms them

And the porcelain fragments


The liquid bubbles out to form an amorphous dark monster


You look down at your stained shoes

The stars are at your feet


A Detailed Study of Lovebugs


A lovebug is an insect that has four legs (or two arms and two feet, depending on how you look at it). They are found in all places around the world, being perfectly adaptable to most climates that are not extreme (spring, summer, autumn, winter), and do not have striking characteristics such as coloured spots or stripes to mark themselves by (although they can definitely choose to wear leopard prints if it were the hottest trend of the season). In fact, no two lovebugs look the same, which is why they always manage to take victims by surprise. The pool of prey is as heterogeneous as the predators themselves.

Although most insects are plant-eaters, lovebugs are hunters and they spin webs (of lies) more skillfully than spiders do to trap their prey. Sometimes, the intricate webs they create are so beautiful that it is the ignorant victims who seek their own death, captivated by the glowing threads of silver silk. Highly unusually for insects, lovebugs, like some mammals, practice territorial marking, namely through leaving marks and scratches (red eyes and haunted expressions) behind in their domains. Other predators usually avoid the marked areas after identifying the work of the lovebugs, and they move on to hunt other prey.

Lovebugs are extremely patient creatures, and they can spend prolonged periods of time (months and years) on hunting the same victim to completely devour it. They suck their prey to the last drop of blood before moving on, and the cycle repeats.


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 258 other followers