Author Archives: montecyril

(Fuck off Prakash Saint Paul! You are fish, not fire, earth or air!)  I didn’t have the patience, at any point in my life, to watch sunrise or sunset  They were not enigmatic to me, the pictures of the world darkening or lightening  I didn’t even relish the subtleties or outpourings of nature, as much as I wondered  in a fantasy of creation; enlivening charactersContinue reading “Just without myself and within myself: A poem “

Elon Musk, I want to free you of evil PSP’s rust!  He always grinds my steel and concrete to dust  He is so spidery, he tries to morph into the sun  Such that your endeavour can’t be won!  But I won’t let him bag the Sun or Mars  Even if he carjacks all my Mum’s cars!  I’ll smote him every time, dear Musk,  spearContinue reading “Elon Musk, I want to free you off evil PSP’s rust!: A poem “

I’ve been walking with a sickle  clearing the undergrowth  to pave the way for destiny  I don’t want to marry the moon  to be my providence,  smiling villainously at me,  like blood on my hands.  I won’t leave (I know who is) my true consort and   soulmate behind, even though  I’ve often had to relinquish love  for its own survival; all the gold  of encumbrancesContinue reading “Clearing the pathway for destiny: A poem “

Jashmina, do you relive my sacrifice for you  in everything that you do? Or is your conscience   just a fold in your soul, or a mountain that  expresses itself like a bridge of succour  to the one standing with the piety to exalt truth  but has to bear undeserved punishment for it?  Do you wish to perpetuate an evil and pretentiously Continue reading “Jashmina, what do you reckon?: A poem “

Would I know if imagination came first  before I lay the sentence to rest  on a page that awaits its life  with the drop of ink on it?  Everything is a cinematic ideograph  finding its expression in its interpretation  But is your interpretation true to the idea that   was actually formulated, and could be misrepresented  Could you answerContinue reading “Would I know myself before my creation?: A poem “

I can see the streets of New York City  are none too pretty; but like sub-terranean   caverns overturned from Hades, crusting out  to breathe in your apple air. And how you gawk  at your new-found dispensation. Do you look across  the Atlantic to share kindred feelings with a wooden  continent that looks to the apparently biggest object   in the nightsky, forContinue reading “New York! O New York! How you gawk?!: A poem “