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I have learnt sometimes,

silence is the easiest way to build your chaos,

smile, make a weak attempt at a dead joke.

if you try hard enough, your troubles might translate into laughter.

forget it, let it go, make an excuse, then another.

Tell yourself all you need to drop ice in your volcano.

Do not erupt, make peace with your pieces, chew your words.

Float like paper in the wind when they push you,

gather your storm.


now, rain!

bring brimstones and ice,

birth magma and burn bridges,

spew your undigested words, quit choking yourself.

serve them their cowardice on a platter.


finally, ask for the masters forgiveness,

lick your wounds and remember,

they do not think like you.

















Station: query



For as long as I can remember, I have also been the child with the questions. Granted, I frequently lacked the courage to ask them all or lacked the right words to get the question across properly, still, I had them. These questions plagued my mind, I am embarrassed by the sheer idiocracy of  some, like  what’s pigment in white makes is different from cream? or pink from red? how was the chemical formula of water discovered? what was the scientist searching for? what about water piqued his/her curiosity? how did one know oxygen was oxygen? its gas really so how then was it discovered? some of these questions stupid as they are run deeper than others, like who the hell thought about other planets, meshed up theories of the earth being round and suspended by gravity while holding hands with other planets. How did one think all these up? who is/was their plug? can I have his number? cos Ill need to be on what they were on the get these answers.

There are things I do not understand, I have been told that knowledge is power, ignorance is a fools meal. still, all the knowledge gathered on love we turn puppets to its whippings. (I boldly claim my ignorance). why is falling in love synonymous with loss of common sense? synonymous with hurt, synonymous with forms of paint that hurt to think up. On this hierarchy, I comprehend  family levels only.( one cant understand what they don’t know). maybe I’m cynical, noble prized skeptic even. I have heard enough stories to aid my brain in building  bricks around my thorax. They say love makes the world go round still, here we are all these loving just to be stable. Not enough love to stop death, not enough to keep diseases at bay, never enough to lock a lovers groins and certainly, not enough to seduce a bank account into obesity so, enlighten me,what then is this word that commands such human foolery? why is love not enough? why is something so simple always so complex? will I ever know? will I ever let myself know? lord, will I act a fool too?…. fear.

A thousand ways to blasphem, I do not what my sentence will be at this point. The questions I think of but cannot ask. lest I stray too far from the light and delve into parts of atheism I cant afford. still, why is Christianity so hard?  So, you didn’t choose to be born but you gotta fight to live, have to fight to die right so you can live eternally?. Dare I ask more? I know God knows everything, so he does know the end from the beginning right? why then were humans created? we are to unholy, too fickle, too unworthy for this grace so graciously granted to us. our spirit is willingly but flesh stay weak some days, the spirit willeth not either. will you teach us better lord? answer our hearts drill too? forgive this ignorance please? maybe? yes?



3:45am : I have questioned natured but never lasted long enough for its answer, I know not to question drowsy eyes and a spent brain….



Everything but nothing.

Grey is the blandest colour. It doesn’t scream but isn’t drowsy either. it swings on a fence just enough to not be completely ignored. how meh, It is the blandest feeling too. Nothing  is wrong but nothings right either.

Some days, dawn comes with its party, other days it drags melancholy with it. You feel peace but you don’t quite taste happiness still, far from sadness.

My tongue doesn’t know me sometimes, other times it amazes me. how can one have everything but nothing? be so much but so little? how does one be sunlight and still carry this much gloom. Its not sadness, just gloom.

Many, many friends but still no one. Be so loved but easily discarded. usefully useless, accommodated but not accepted. alone but surrounded.


what is it when you feel everything but nothing?

not enough sadness to be pitied not enough happy to be noticed

oh so tastefully bland. grey.


I am nothing.

.a descansar, buenas noches mañana más fiestas


I know,

Something came up,

like at Christmas and first grade.

oh, like on my birthdays too?

that’s fine.

I hope some day I’m something.

maybe, then I’ll come up.



The pool


I am standing in a pool of my fathers blood.

mother always said all rapist must be shot.

still, she looks like she is drowning.


Mother, the lad is brilliant!

he builds me rainbows and brings me roses.

so why the tears child?”

Mother! he doesn’t ride down south.




heart on chords.


Break my heart,

stitch it together then, break me.

kiss my senses, let my members go to war.

Bring me happiness,

invade my soul, let my feet dance to your tone

body follows suits, seduction.

Give me closure,

you understand me, speak when my tongue deserts me.

this feelings I cant put in words…

euphoria, desolation, calm, turmoil, blithe…

you make me feel it all, art.





Dear boy.



I want to feed you the world and watch you eat it.

touch your skin in places only darkness knows.

Kiss your soul and teach you to bask in vulnerability,

be the antidote to your pain and drink your sadness.


I want to love you till it hurts to breathe.

match the love your eyes fail to hide.

give you all of me till there’s nothing left to give.

but you cant give what you don’t have.


so when you leave for her half baked love, It will hurt.

but if you pick me, there will be  no survivors.





wolf and woman.

shape shifter.

There are a few things I find completely amazing.  ‘woman’ is somewhere after God and before medicine. Really, think about it. have you see anything more astounding?

Youjin Lee 이유진:

I am out  having lunch with a friend who is the epitome of a strong, independent and easily intimidating if  your man guts aren’t firmly rooted. somewhere between her oven knuckles and our almost heated debate her man friend calls. My girl goes from fire breathing to vanilla voice and wind soft. I am perplexed. I realize then that this is power gifted to us by Phanes. The  ability to change swiftly,go from fire to ice in a second. Get an attitude for a lover but bend voice, distort body, speak honey before favours are asked. Brew his Ego, butter him up, feed him mirages of power then ask what it is and receive graciously mother told me once,you must learn the art of shape shifting.

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There are brands of magic not all can experience. the art of child birth. Although it is a mans world, this one power they will never have, a brand of intimacy the male specie will never  afford. I imagine it to be a pretty bitter,sweet and scary experience. of scary things I do not write.

Jacqueline Bissett is an illustrator, expertized in Hand drawn and book illustrations:


Hellen of troy, the face that launched a thousand ships. 

Countries will go to war, brothers turn foes, years of friendship crumble at her feet, man loses his will, his wit, man dines with sheep. My good friend once entertained thoughts of leaving his job cos his lover fancied men of a different profession. I couldn’t fathom this for days,Some men have left wives, neglected kids and morals for  mistresses who have mastered the art of finesse. still, its a mans world they say, a moment of laughter, now silence. There is great make believe at work.  The art of finesse.


I have learnt, there are things one simply doesn’t get in the way of. A woman deep in love, a woman scorned, a woman with a mission, A mother fighting for her kids. A wolf watches, learns from her. similarities.


                                                   some days,

                                      I am more wolf than woman.

                      I am still learning to stop apologising for my wild   ~Nikita Gill.     


Overlook The City.:

I have always thought, it would be nice to live by the sea. To be sent to bed by the peaceful bustling of beach waves. Something about peace, serenity and its beauty makes me humbled.

I have dreamt of weaving through a city with bright night lights, to be wakened by croissants and butter dancing in its air at dawn. something about baking and pastries makes me think of goodness and tranquil dust.

snippets of a life that’s not mine.


what do you think of?