Author Archives: montecyril

I once had and always have a girl, Or should I say, did she always have me? Like a vapour that settles on you, never dissipating. I spontaneously learnt to  sing, with or without wings! She showed me her room, never too soon, a profound wood, the ring and the rood! I lost all myContinue reading “I once had and always have a girl…: A poem”

Erysichthon, how you hunger in a comatose of any understanding or awareness for the plight of others! I know that in rapining all that was mine, you hungered  for me, my soul, my intricately woven eternal flame! The woods of my Earth! O the woods of my earth! All vulnerable to your ravaging axe; soContinue reading “Erysichthon, your shapeshifting and my metamorphoses: A poem”

I woke up from my sleep-in, from my crumpled bed linen hearing a tremendous din in my little kitchen where there was a blues band playing on my pots and pans And they were singing like the neon was swinging in a pub, in a hub for a lion feeling like a cub basking inContinue reading “A song-poetry from the blues; and Depo at the door!: A poem”

I followed you to the horizon where the lucid sky met a lightened earth and Bacchus took me by the arm, and I said: No! I choose not to be inebriated by ale, but the the harpsichords of spirituality where the sun slips to the meeting point and has us all intermingle in the hotContinue reading “I followed you to the horizon: A poem”

Brown is the colour of the gown we wore in recluse survival instinct as the crust of bark of the ark abrased  the waters of the Great Deluge. As the Ark itself roiled, spinning precariously in the giant eddy of the earth sucking back the waters into itself; to make the shipwrecks fear the scurvyContinue reading “Noah and the raven: A poem”

Are you like the horizon that seems so near, believed but can never be reached? Are you a golden yellow star that shines, but whose light, by far will never reflect on my skin, not at any hour? Are you the sky, always visible but never solidly mine able? Are you the wind, that IContinue reading “A question of love: A poem”

Is there limpidity in yesterdays, or an occlusion of tomorrows? That I had a stillness of forgetting a deathly wish of undying, like a purgation in lifeless turmoil in living, if I were to be callous in forgoing duty? And the trauma was just an abridging of those tomes wrapped in dust of the past,Continue reading “A yesterday that conflagrates my today with inspiration and remembrance of my duty…: A poem”