Sometimes, we stand in the shadow of creativity, scared to step out and move independently to find our own self, and be the expression we wish. And in this delicate flower of blooming bridal dresses, angst ridden with the noise of industrial pollution, we sift through our own drifting unknowing. When will we evaporate? Maybe […]Read More 17.
What did anger ever do but cloud the skies already stormy with the grins of foxes-waiting, stalling, for the moment of cunning to pounce on their will and force the hand of god on to anybody weak enough to listen? We never heard it coming or knew the blow, and the only option for the […]Read More 16.
What does this blistering wind shout as it causes creaks and splits? For behind any of the anger and rage must be reason and can reason not reveal itself before it is exposed as folly? I depress all of my own enquiries to stay calm and placid, drenched in the rain of apathy that sprints […]Read More 15.
Death seems only temporary in as vague an understanding of conception I have. But looking around above me I come to notice the bloom of life that replaces almost unnoticed, definitely unannounced, the sparse decay gazed upon with misery when trying to decode the world. I watched her wounds bound ceaselessly uncaring across the humble […]Read More 14.
The first time I saw ghosts, they came as my ears popped and light shone on dark, seeing all the smiles of people I’d left repressed and unfulfilled behind my trail, in my wake, while I slept. It isn’t enough to desire but to want to train to desire naturally (or unnaturally) the unattainable for […]Read More 13.
Peacocks feathers point to brick and the thud that sounds through the shrill whistle of polluted, relaxed air- infiltrates a sun drenched corpse-like peace. Only breathing separates life from eternity, so catch your oxygen lively and hold on to it for you will never see the thief coming. As I pondered this kettle of boiling […]Read More 12.
When will we wake up to all the beauty of our dreams?Read More 11.
All ignorance is wilful.Read More 10.
Intentions are only as good as intent allows.Read More 9.
In this eye I saw, swimming in oil, a stuck receptacle of life own making. But when she came, all coloured and vicious, she stared like flames burning my thumbs. Before darkness shrouded a minute of time, she screamed through walls examples of their hubris- or mine, whichever the boiling point gave. I switched beneath […]Read More 8.