The Metallic Coffin – Inspired by W.B. Yeats’ “The Second Coming”

Turning and turning in the shaking trotro The mate cannot hear the passengers Coins fall apart; the polythene bag cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the driver. The blood-stained abuse is loosed, and everywhere The innocence of the driver’s mother is drowned; The insults lack conviction, while the worst of the passengers Are full of passionate nkwasiasem Surely some soldier is at hand; Surely … Continue reading The Metallic Coffin – Inspired by W.B. Yeats’ “The Second Coming”

MADNESS – Not Poetry; A Narrative.

She sits by the roadside – a mixture of calm and confusion. Madness becomes her. On her rock she sits, crossed- legged. Her clothes, a myriad of silhouettes. The light plays a number on her. A revelation here, skin there. Exposed? Yes! Barely? Yes! She sits on her rock smoking her cigarette – a mixture of calm and confusion She is mad. For as she … Continue reading MADNESS – Not Poetry; A Narrative.

Dark Room.

It was dark, very dark. Pitch dark heaviness- you could feel it; almost cut through it. He crawled on the floor so he could feel his entire surroundings with every extension of his body. He heard footsteps from a distance. His heart raced. “It’s in a distance.” He thought to himself. His heart still raced. He tried hard to remain dead silent, even controlled his … Continue reading Dark Room.