At Sea!

Ruminations of the sea wayfaring kind!




The door lay ajar,

knob twisted apart.

A ladder hung from the ceiling

swaying gently, as if heeding,

the unvoiced .

Curtains billowed in icy winds,

froze innards grim

Anchors lay strewn across

buried half in earth,

while bits, pieces flew around,

it was me.

A story weighed down.


Picture credit Pixabay


Silence breathes uneasy.

Gaps of reality scour

the last vestiges of normalcy,

turn them into black holes

of understanding.

Nothing passes through the walls of

an imposed silence.

The unquiet of the soul.

Those words that stick to the walls

seeking an egress.

The tears that lie inside dried eyes.

The cold of the room weighs heavy

on the silence.

Seeping into the body, searching for warmth.

Those faint embers of life

wishing to die away.

Melting into the nothingness of the void beyond.




Twisted are those gnarly vines that snake out from under the ground. Sown in the ground many centuries ago,they have sprouted and now make for an ugly picture. Coloured a wicked grey, the surface covered in sharp thorns, slimy. Shadows run alongside, guarding this piece of unclaimed hell that juts out from the nether regions of the underworld. The vines reach out to gobble the hapless moon strung out on the blood crescent night.The stars flicker dimly, trying to hide from the darknesses that seeks their light.The mist whirls into shapes of the night creatures seeking the blood of man.Thirsty, they howl to announce their mission , sending shivers down the spines of the living .The Dark has arrived, the wind shrieks his name out of fright, for it has lost the voice of it’s own. On the quicksands of deceit, fear crawls on unseen wings.This is what gives the Dark’s prey away.



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Words, words everywhere !

Not a sentence on the brink.

Gotta have something to drink!

Up above the clouds so high,

Lie the story horizons so shy.

I reach out, clawing at whiffs of clouds,

Maybe a rainbow has the storyline.

The birds fly south, for the winter is to come.

The sun has begun his hide and seek run.

I sit half buried in snow,

as the cold winds begin to blow,

clutching my writing pad,

feeling so sad.

The Book Queen rides by on her icy sleigh

giving me a cold glare

Help!  I despair

I rest my case right now, cause I am neither here nor there!😳



Injo—- Thoughts—-Part 5

The thoughts are in a hurry,

ascending the escalator of words.

They go higher  and higher into the daydreaming world.

Injo struggles to put them on to paper,

for they are frisky and will not stand still.

Sprouting wings, they fly away to newer lands, where time isn’t a waste.

Laying back, watching the clouds float by,

seeing stars twinkle bright at night.

Pushing and shoving to get there first,

a stampede would have been a curse.

Hollering to be heard above the din,

Injo’s head  is in a spin.

He, then waves a magic pen, slicing through the adamant air.

Lassoing the thoughts into a tattooed design,

The thoughts sit with faces inked.

Plots of stories finally together linked.

Injo is tickled pink.

He is cool and styled in fashionable sync.




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The day walks past nonchalant,

It doesn’t care.

The night enters, bejewelled  bedecked in the stars of the skies,

Haughty, hard to please, flies away on the wings of the moon’s chariot.

Dawn smiles a bit wan, reddened cheeks, a sliver of hope on clouded horizons.

Morning calls, a shrill cry, echoes reverberating million times

Languid afternoon, is asleep most of the time, a saddened brow a frown.

Evening losing itself, in the charms of liquid gold, icy rocks.

Night will be here soon,

I stand still, frozen in the amber of lost time.



Picture credit :-Pixabay