You still remember the scent of crushed leaves basking in the mud, the sun choking out their water. The inviting aroma of dead leaves would anchor itself in the air of a hot, sunny day. It was the time of farewells and goodbyes, tears and nostalgia for a past that could not be undone. At […]Read More Dead Leaves
torn black streets echo in grey clouds under a blue sky. cemented high rises curtains to a crowded audience. rubber spines of beggars bent under the heavy sun. slow shutter speed many faces trapped in an obscure plot.Read More URBAN
Avalanche comes down
Spreading rubbles and sorrow
Burying it all.Read More Avalanche
The Porqupine Stood in the middle of the road, Quills pointed in defence mode, He was going to write a novel, With my blood And his hundred quills. The twilight twisted slowly into night, And I stepped back Out of respect For he looked like a native American chief With his white and black spears […]Read More The Chief
Five bits of bone
wrapped in fleshRead More Writing.
The exam draws near
Book like a vacuum cleaner
Collects dust and sleeps.Read More Poetry Exam.
With half-open eyes
I’m looking into my next life.Read More Dead in Sleep.
I try and close my eyes
But there’s a universe insideRead More Colours Again.
Outside my window
The storm rages
But I’m too stoned to realise.Read More Colours.