Without choice.

a bicycle came with its bells ringing I heard it having no choice the birds chirping before sunlight even started falling I heard it having no choice the motor running since yesterday night lifting water up over my head I heard it having no choice I played some jazz none of that could carry away [...]

Just writing.

These days, I am writing my second book or what can become my second book. The words keep coming. Really, there's nothing to writing once all fears are removed. Nothing is insignificant, or everything is. Once that is truly realised, there's no stopping you. My first book 'Dying in Living' which is a poetry book [...]


this brightness is too bright, it kills inspiration and everything else I wait for it to diminish and once that happens, I can stop waiting for it to diminish and do something else right now, each point is on fire that connects to every other point behind these cracked walls I touch each point with [...]

Alive before dead.

Two hours later, my legs began to freeze. It wasn't winter. The winds were blowing against me. And I was riding too fast. I opened my coffin and prepared to lie down in it. As I sat in it, I thought about the next day and how the sun won't exist anymore. The winds had [...]


Whenever I act, is there a conscious decision made behind acting in the manner in which I act? For example, if I feel like picking up a book to read, before I extend my hand towards that book to pick it up, have I actually, consciously decided on picking it up? Or am I doing [...]

One drinkless evening.

How could somebody lack the inspiration to write. The thought baffles me. Really, there's so much to observe. So much keeps going on all around us. You will fall dead way before you are able to grasp everything. People are so busy inside their heads, fighting unnecessary wars that they miss out on a lot [...]