Age by age,it’s a cage

Barricados by filthy men

For guiltless lads of brawns

Dragooned by sickening pellets

Age by age,it’s a cage

Unfettered like the capering winds

We live,hope and die

Ensnared by our own insidious thoughts

Enmeshed by little imaginations

Misfortuned by faulty hearts

Fallen heroes to our wildest dreams

Age by age,it’s a cage



Posted in FICTIONS


Christmas Eve was an euphoria waker.The unending fireworks that skyrocketed the sky were part and parcel of what triggered the fun filled atmosphere.

It seemed the desires of the young lads of the streets to catch fun were so insatiable.They had left the church gatherings at an unbelievable haste.It was as if everything had been planned out.They met at the river bank of St Paul.Everyone was panting furiously.It was obvious.They had rushed down.

They wasted no time in getting to business.They disarmed themselves of all the squibs planted all over.What aghasted Simon the most was the quantity a boy named John had brought.Many persons brought in twenties and at most fifties.But he brought enough to raze down a chapel.He unzipped the bag they were all squeezed into.Dirty bag and scarlet coloured.

The idea was to have fun and a bit Christmas rouse in town and not to have reasons to have subsequent arson charges

Everything went well on Christmas eve.The only thing that tainted the high spirits was the demise of a petty town functionary.He was saddled with the responsibility of ensuring the kids have safe fun.But no one knew what had inspired such insanity.He had led the charade that left the streets in a state of pandemonium.Noises erupted beyond the town could handle.He had turned the streets in to a concert ground for chaos.

Firsthand witnesses to the incident reported that he lost muscular control and frothed to death.And he couldn’t be resuscitated or saved because it happened very fast.

That sent a chill down many spines.The fun was short lived.Many of the lads went back home.And the body was wheeled off to the the near by lab to perform some post mortem.Rumour had it that his death was unnatural and the cause was to be unravelled to know what had gone wrong.

The night’s incidence axed the fun Simon was having and put an impediment to one he was planning on having later.

Christmas Eve with Helen.As he had called it for the past twenty one days.Helen had been one of the little good things about life.She was beautiful,that was never up for wrangling.She liked serenity as opposed to himself ,that got his fun from extreme and far fetched transpirations.He was wild,she was cute.A licentious prince for a perfect princess.That had been the fantasy he had hoped to make real this Xmas.To say his unending love to her large heart.He had planned this moment.But all seemed to have shattered.
It would be stupid to proffer love in face of a looming tragedy.He thought.Everywhere was reeking with gloom.It was going to happen another time.It wasn’t hard making up his mind.It was sheer caution and a bit common sense as the wily pirates would say when gulping their creamy rum,”some senses should cut across all,thats what make it common”.

Besides it didn’t matter.She wasn’t coming.Her texts,etched in the italics had found its way into his phone.He checked.Pulled himself together with the feigned big boy attitude.Discarded what remained of the squibs planted all over me.He went home.

He had hoped the night would be magical.Like the fairy nights He had imagined from countless poesy that had swept his path.

Now the bed was to take the place of Helena.Endless words for a lifeless object that couldn’t give a crap about his annoying murmurs.

The streets was very much alive.Passers by going to their various homes.After a very swamped day.Some had gone to have for themselves provisions to sauce up the impending Christmas celebration in the market while other were just vacating the scene of the mysterious death.

It was 4:00am in the morning.Time had flown very fast and deep.It was already Christmas.Everywhere was thick with darkness and the fogs didn’t make things better.It was hard seeing in to the distance.

Whether pickpockets were advancing ,it was hard to know.White smokes permeated the air.No light had emanated from the houses around the streets.Electricity had been a thing that came once in a blue moon.It was hard improvising.The dry wind made things burn quickly.The idea of having a lantern that could burn down a house if care was not taken was frowned at by many.Many preferred to have the thick darkness and did away with the chance of having their abodes cauterized to dusts.

The air became thicker as he advanced towards Rivers junction.The smokes were seething with impurities.Dusts,as if angered were biting away at his eyes.

It was harmattan season.But this was beyond the natural.It was as if a foul magical manipulation was in play.Like someone was lurking in the dark and hurling the winds to Simon’s face.
In an attempt to subsidize the threat he was encountering,he decided to get his handkerchief.He checked his breast pocket.It was flat as a withered plank.He checked his pant pockets.It was not there.The wind gushed.Then he knew he had to run.
He adjusted properly my bag pack.He ran for it.For home.The wind raged,and it twirled him as it wished.He almost toppled to the ground.But the thought of savagely roasted bacons kept him from flinching.He was almost there,almost there.He thought.Tonight had been a combo of fun and catastrophe
The raging wind blasted him to the ground.Before seconds lapsed he was back on my feet.He saw reasons to stay petrified to the spot he was and also to jet home as quickly as he could.How is this even possible?He thought.
The sky was ferociously yellow.Thick with rowdy smokes.They skated flashily in to the sky.Smokes of this magnitude could drop a tedious bull dead.They wafted deep in to the sky.And the silver linings of the sky had turned gory gold.The blues had vanished.It was a combination of dark and yellow.With the yellow being the alpha effect.
Without stalling he leaped impetuously in to the grand ville garden.It was far easier when he was not thinking and besides he had no choice.It was the shortest way home.He scaled its walls.And landed in donkey dungs.
He walked the rough edges of the Grayson hut,a house inhabited by couple of weirdos.The house was unusually bright.Not that anyone cared.
And there was it.Home.Safe and sound.Not a dust or a fire scratch.The gates were intact.The sparkling Christmas lights glowed bright.Choruses of festive chants that he had never heard were emanting from the building.It was all beautiful.It was all peaceful.It was all he ever wanted.

He panicked and reflexes made him direct my attention to the western side of building.There was fire.Though it was gently subsidizing.

Him tummy wriggled with terror when what was before him came in to focus.It was the grounds of St Paul.And it was dusts.Everything had been burnt to the ground.His eyes seared with tears not because he cared for the building or what happened in there.But because he had been a part of the recalcitrant group that started the fireworks.Though he didn’t throw his any where near the Churches.Yet that couldn’t take his guilt away.As far as he was concerned he was indirectly responsible.

Simon made for the gates and it opened wide open before him.It was Helena,beautiful as ever,smilling in her red jacket and a christmas hat gently perched on her perfectly sculptured head.

She smiled and said,”Merry Christmas weirdo”

And she patted Simon on the shoulder and gave him what apparently was a ten minutes hug.They let themselves go.

“I have been waiting for you,come on in!”,she said.

He couldn’t believe what had happened.What a nice Yuletide!


Posted in FICTIONS


It was December and it was very cold.

I had just left the Lincoln bar after having what seemed an unending stretch of fun.

My love for the night was expressed by my dangerous prowlings of it.Nights were the best time for me to make my walks.Days were for rest as far i was concerned.My flair for danger was hinged on my nonchalant attitude towards life.Life was never something to be taken seriously.That was the only way everything made sense.Fear was never to be accommodated.The heroes were always the ones that viewed life from a weird perspective.

I had passed the shrieking shacks roughly positioned at the left side of the Lincoln road.Everywhere was unnecessarily quiet.It was weird.The night was never this quiet.Nothing had stirred.Everything was frozen.Nothing flinched.

The sight of the Rucky bridge injected a bit of relief to my veins.Home was not far again.It was just few steps away.And I would have to savor a good night sleep in the next few minutes.


Something had moved.But I couldn’t decipher where the sound had erupted from.For a moment I was stationed at the spot.Then I took several steps.It was nothing,i thought.Then I moved on towards the bridge.


Something with paws had jumped in to air,i could not fathom what it was but I knew it casted a large,dark and frightening shadow.

Before I could blink my eyes,i was already on the ground.And a massive figure was struggling on the top of me.I tried to shake it off.When I realized it was a “he”.

And he was armed with a curvy dagger which was going to land in my face at any moment if I left the hand holding the dagger.

I tried pushing him off but he was stronger and very adamant.I bruised his face with a soft blow.In anger he stabbed through my shoulder.My pain was far beyond that wish I could bear.It was as if my innards were going to pour out.Blood was tearing out.I was feeling faint.

Then a strength surged through my body.I gave him a slap to the chest and he crashed into the remains of the other side of the bridge.I stood up to have a look at the state in which my attacker was.

What had really happened?I thought.I had never encountered this guy before.He wasn’t a cop either.And he appeared made.He definitely wasn’t a pilferer.

Before I could get my thoughts straight,another blow had landed on my chest.It swept me off my feet.I didn’t see him coming.He had moved like lightning.

My belly seared with excruciating pain.My eyes failed.I was seeing stuffs in doubles.Until a plank landed on my fingers did I know that this wasn’t a prank at all.The dust like scales in my eyes fell.The vision became clearer.

I saw the stranger holding a metal bar in air and he was ready to smash what remained of it to my feeble head.

I plunged myself towards him.We landed with a thud.I felt a spike at the side of my belly.Ruffling my insides.My pain squirmed.I stood and blood oozed out from my belly.In small quantity but it was obvious.I had lost lots of blood tonight.

Everywhere seemed more quiet now.The thought of my injury had made forget my surroundings.I checked.The bridge was half broken.Though it was never indeed strong.But now it would take little effort to crash everything down.

Something was missing I thought.

I felt a twinging in my legs.I checked.They were bleeding.Then my aghastness peaked.I had left a body on the ground.The stranger was motionless.His eyes were open and not working.He simply gazed at the sky.Blood tricked down his shabby body.His insides were crawling out.I could see his intestines.Long and broken.I had killed a man on my birthday.I had unwillingly stopped his life.

“What a mess!”




The wild ways of the night

Flummoxes the loins 

An arrow suffered in summer

Is requited by a dark shaft 

In the birth of winter

The flesh does stoop very low

That it pines over trifles

And breaks the beautiful butterfly’s wing

A sight mean to awaken 

Life in the dead

But is crippled by a jot yet brazen feud

Our loves are broken

By the unceasing desires 

To hold on unto petty animosities

We tend to wrought dangers 

To those that have crossed us

Instead of simply letting go

A Roland for an Oliver

The utmost expression of disgust!





Only when the fountains flow

Do we go to see her waters

Only when the meadows are green and hospitable

Do we go to see her mountains

Only when the creeks are serene and do heal

Do we go to grace her beauty with our presence

Only when endless and attractive circles of conditions glare the eyes

Do our hearts lay claims to love




Time and it’s effluences 

Seem awes that glare

The face of lovers deep

It avails the joy of togetherness

It does make the sight of mountains,

The flight of air creatures lovely

Time does makes love outgrows all imperfections

It does make love a haven of safety

With time Romeo finds the Juliet

With time the temple becomes the hope

That makes things very slow and soothing to lovers

With time lovers die

Their love becomes a thing of memories

Their memories;a thing of pride.

Their pride; rooted in non vanities

The perks of love and time do conflate

Both bringing resounding felicity and dismal effects

The short-lived ride when lovers are true

Does make time a thing to be doled with endless encomiums

And the non-sempiternity of time does

Make the flowery promises of love shallow

And an endless circle of beautiful lies