The Carpenter and Grandfather Time.

He was a carpenter for the longest time. The way the chisel carved the wood so too labour shaped his body – a plough horse in those days. Only he could grind the beans that woke the sun from slumber with sweet aroma and the nudge of obligation. The moons confidante, tireless. No stranger toContinue reading “The Carpenter and Grandfather Time.”

The Park.

Motionless. Vast, desolate, and yet, suffocating. Winters true face, horrid. Townsfolk abscond to brighter scenes, fires, feasts and spirits. In one moment, a wild rage every exhaled breath from the North blows a frozen hell upon the scene, in the next, an indignant sigh, released over the land – A reaction to my discontent. OneContinue reading “The Park.”

The performer.

At once, the audience pounced and there thunderedan ungodly howl that shattered heavens“Give us what we want!”clambering over one another, they reached the stagetore the performer to bitsthe poor soul lay there in piecessummoned the strength to ask:“What do you want?”The audience replied in unison:“We want you to challenge us, but not in a wayContinue reading “The performer.”

Bird song and Bribery.

Day’s end, silence pervasive.Loneliness heralds itself sole survivor of all tragedies.Exempt from rest, pinned to earth – defiled constellations.Viscous dreams to puddles, inward prison – bird songsomber, forsaken – rarefied – scowling, inadmissible.One still weeps, though all have perishedecho crimes of freedom, antagonized, unattainable.This box and perch and feed – bribery, complicit in cruel death.NoContinue reading “Bird song and Bribery.”

Mantra of the ill-fated Man.

There is no greater lie, than the one I claim to have uncovered. There is no greater evil, than the one I claim to have vanquished. There is no greater sorrow, than the one I claim to have outlived.There is no greater tragedy, than the one I claim to have suffered.There is no greater danger,Continue reading “Mantra of the ill-fated Man.”

An open letter to: The Wiz. (3)

It’s pure chaos here – a man was accosted today for resting his bicycle on the white line of a designated parking spot in town. The security guard was rabid madman apezoid and pointing one finger, that curled as his tongue wagged manically, he made the poor man flee with bike on back. Naturally, IContinue reading “An open letter to: The Wiz. (3)”