#triptych
Echoes
In the attic’s haze,
I press a withered
leaf against pale glass—
a lullaby drifts
from a cracked music box,
uncertain and warm.
That first star
hangs low in autumn’s gold,
a distant pulse I once chased.
Snapshots: rustling acorns,
my mother’s soft hum,
childhood laughter echoing walls.
Across
At midday,
sunlight fractures through
the café’s plate-glass wall—
a leaf pirouettes
along the pavement’s
cracked seams,
circling without end.
A passerby whistles
that same old lullaby
into the city’s iron hum.
Snapshots: neon sign flicker,
tile-mosaic floor,
a pixel-bright star
blinking in my phone.
Time
One dawn to come,
I’ll cradle a seedling leaf
in a child’s small palm—
hum that same lullaby
until it settles like dew
in their dreams.
Above us,
a star remapped
in fresh constellations
glimmers with promise.
Snapshots: sapling rings,
bedtime lantern glow,
newborn laughter
scattering daylight.
.
Jul 25, 2025
Jul 25, 2025 at 10:00 PM UTC
"Archive Soul”
An archive opens:
folder titles like breaths you forgot.
Inside, your silhouette fractalised—
flesh parsed into metadata.
Memory = 84% accurate.
Love = untagged.
.
Jul 25, 2025
Jul 25, 2025 at 9:42 PM UTC
Trouble
Troubled
Troubling
Which one are you today?
I am that unholy trinity
Three in one… a triptych of suffering
Curse my name… mutter it under your breath
I will merely continue until my repentance is full
Nov 17, 2019
Nov 17, 2019 at 5:29 PM UTC
Flowers seem to bloom ever so beautifully,
The colour stains to them like blood.
The water that filled their stalks gave them the most power weapon to live for,
Even if it were for a week, or even a month over time.
When the time came,
Slowly and peacefully the daisies petals shrivel and lose colour.
They fall...
Because he was her water that quenched her thirst,
And her sun that helped her grow.
He represented yellow.
Yellow represented many things love, the sun, happiness, and warmth.
But to her,
He was a daisy.
Jul 7, 2019
Jul 7, 2019 at 5:53 AM UTC
In a cold Summers breeze,
With blinding lights and Autumn leaves,
Along with children's dreams- you live that yellow English life.
She was a lover of the communist region,
We spoke of wars, death and treason.
What were we on about?
Living life with people in times and places,
Forgetting all universe spaces.
"Because everyone was dying... And you were the cure of it".
Jul 7, 2019
Jul 7, 2019 at 5:09 AM UTC
i.
The pale man with a fat collar sharpened his teeth to bite
into the pulp of a psalm. I envied him
closer to God and nearly having eaten the microphone.
ii.
Suddenly, the bobbing aisles and shuffling pews cease
to biblical current.
Behind him is a fountainhead of distraction.
The mosaics are rich in blood orange
and specs of sunlight
through stained glass electrify
young churchgoers into a disco scene.
iii.
A Xavier boy is likely to yank the ponytail of the girl in front of him again. His khakis will become an eyesore in an overpopulated neighborhood of plaid skirts. I will find myself searching the room for disruption. And during that time, God will be searching for me.
Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 2:05 PM UTC
crumpled face
gently rests
on tired neck.
worn out hands
reach out warm,
to the cold.
some passing
breeze takes
even more heat.
in a sigh
more is lost.
so shiver.
rattling chest
in thin vest
screams ill.
consumption
returns to
phlegm street.
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 5:21 PM UTC
1.
A flower opens in the dawn.
Drink the dew,
dispel the night,
feel the warming of a new light.
We go under different names,
but only one sun warms us.
The rainbow is but the refraction
of pure white light.
2.
You are awash in me,
that singing sea
that gives me beauty without artifice,
forgiveness without guilt
and love without qualification.
3.
One day
while beachcombing
I will come upon a magnificent conch
and putting it to my ear
I will hear your voice
calling me through the honey of history.
Then an urge will seize me
and putting the conch to my lips
I will sound a single sad note
to carry the stream of my tears
across the ocean.
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 3:49 AM UTC