The Archive
Poems, essays and stories from the first iExile, restored with their original titles and writers, year by year, oldest first.
2014
The Skirt
The first thing I saw
Was a flying skirt
A skirt in the windPassportless touch
On the curvy meadows
Lying
The early dew no longer appearedHeaven and Hell
Love, I will go with you
Wherever you’re off to
Some say that you descended from cloud nineEnd of…
If I were to come to the end of the world
Would you be there, waiting? Hungry? Unaware
That you are feeding your dying offspring with my titpoaching or the voting season
The mortals are voting their way out of it & Atlas keeps holding the pebble, on a rocky…
Zeus is inebriating the Mary while her son is playing on the cross.
Hit the ballot with a pin: Yes, No - Maybe isn'tam
It’s six
am
The morning is about to unravel the dayForwardless
She stood up & kissed me ravenously
Would you kiss me like 10% of that when I’m in the coffin, said I
Let me rot on the hill topCoin toss
Be bold,
Die young
Choke the umbilical
2015
What If There Was No Editing…
Cry, baby, cry
When there’s no one around
When all there isCold Hearts
sitting here in desperation
gazing down from my apartment window in the sky
waiting for the world to calm my frustrationGrammar of the soul
I lived in a country where they conjugated the noun
Love
It had the past the present & the futureLost Mate
Majestic crane, passing overhead,
where is your mate? You fly solo now
yet once you soared wing to wing.Positivity
I feel that it's time for something positive
But do many positive moments feel bitter sweet?
Perhaps it's time to acknowledgeEn Route
Toward me I depart
With unwalked steps
With steps I say, else won’t be said for now.Silent Hero
He takes on too much
He's out to fix the world
In timePresent-in-tense
Today, the metaphor will be hauled to the plaza
It served its time in the dungeons, with plebe
For a mindless crimeSilent City
I sit, gaze and listen out my apartment window
As the sun sets
I hear birds chirpingMortaling
Sex, the nirvana of plebe
Robeless, uninitiated
Moaning, careless of nightingalenapkin for the soul – stutz!
The beauty'n every leaf
I see
Its spawn in the undug belowP.h.d…
Write like you never wrote before
Chisel the unspelled
Into the unmoulding