Hubris Lost

  I remember looking into the mirror, Gazing at giant black-brown eyes With little flecks on them. My button nose came in the way as I leaned in And misted over all details.   Without these fragile pieces of glass I wear everyday, I am but a blurred man In the mirror And without; And … Continue reading Hubris Lost

So we beat on…

Rows and rows of bookshelves. Simple, dark wood. Unpolished. Yellowed spines in each. Tropical dust motes bouncing around in the sunlight. Flecks from pages, the earth, skin and hair all intermingling. Hushed little corners. Dark but not damp. American books. English books. Satire. sf. Westerns. Thrillers. Best Sellers. Reference books. Each with a little paper … Continue reading So we beat on…

The mockery

He waited, for his body to return to his command again. It felt like an eternity. The motion of the blades of grass, the seemingly giant drops of sweat and blood pricking his right eye, the harsh grating of his breath which felt like that of a machine outside of him, the escalating weight of … Continue reading The mockery

Wafers and Cake

The taste of salt from those soggy potato wafers, Mixing deliciously with the saccharine icing That is the birthday paper plate ritual. That little silver ball discovered By the tongue, suddenly. A tentative bite And it crumbles Into something surprisingly sweet. The taste of salt from that trembling Self-concious corner of the mouth. As tears … Continue reading Wafers and Cake

This City

Every sip, connected to the other one, The liquid connected through memory and taste A haze of tea leaves crushed and yellowed, Sugar, milk, adrak and the magic of giant copper vessels. Dust everywhere. Every scrunch under my feet, Rising and settling And mixing with the flakes of my dead Skin. Skin everywhere. Every spit … Continue reading This City

A different feeling

Six years ago, one of my first posts on this blog was about the feelings of being behind a glass, and seeing the world outside.¬† Strange how this enveloping can become something your soul starts needing. Early mornings at BBH are so addictive. A short trip from home, a quick trot up two floors, push … Continue reading A different feeling