Photo by the Author

A thought so pure
crystal water flows,
fingers plucking piano keys,
streams trickle.
Silver laces cascade down mountains, a melody flows.
Silent pools lay still and speak, an orchestra plays.
The curtain falls, and so do the steel scales from your eyes, and you can see a Catalonian dream.

The kaleidoscope:
the panorama exposed. Naked, you breathe in the raw air,
and the heart plunges to the ground.
Ecstatic the electrical currents that charge and fuses the neurons, and you find yourself seeing with the eyes of God,
your soul soaring to the beyond embraced in the arms of angels.

Photo by Marcus Kauffman on Unsplash

The metal rusts from the acid rain.
Slowly it erodes and corrupts the soul,
The surface stained,
The acids etch through the surface,
Still, we say no one is to blame.
You feel out of place, not part of this race, the mindless consumption and allusions to destruction.
They tell you that you are insane
because these are the rules of the game.
You are lame if you think you can make a difference, and so this is the mantra we all repeat to ourselves,
We are all hopeless actors in this life we live.
We are all helpless victims of a system that is beyond our…

It being of the night

Photo by Godwill Gira Mude on Unsplash

Naked, I was first seduced.

I have long forgotten the taste of lobster and jus with caramelised shallots.

Bold: The deep rich tones and bittersweet taste of the dark that sticks to the roof of the palate.

Power to be tamed and trammelled upon.

I saw in you a world long lost to them: unchained by the dogma of the values they sought to impose on you.

The enlightenment never resided in the dark.

I was taught that I was a servant of servitude, with a master, of no purpose, but to serve and fulfil his desires. …

Photo by Tommaso Urli on Unsplash

Ah, there is something so comforting and alluring about the smell of freshly baked bread: the scent of warm yeast rising. It brings back childhood memories of helping my uncle bake bread during the summer school holidays. At midnight, as a boy, eyes wide open, I was mesmerized by the whole process, the clay oven in the little shed under the leaves of the banana trees at the back of the house, placing wood inside the oven and watching them burn until it was time to put the dough inside.

I before this, watching the raw dough rise and then…


Flavors to entice the senses.
The food is rich and bold.
It is the food of the soul.
The tastes set the taste buds alight.
We are the roots of mankind,
from the dasheen, the yam to sweet potatoes.
Our legacy can erase the doctrine of hate.
We feed the hunger of the soul.

We stand at the table with pride and dignity,
Giving all and seeking reciprocity.
We have endured with courage and resilience.
No longer will our voices be silenced.
We shine with brilliance.
We are the brave in the Land of the Slave.
We are the rhythm divine.
Our hearts…

© Photo by the Author

From the island of dreams, he came wearing a sharply cut suit.
His confidence…brimming over the tip of his hat.
He looked so sharp: blade — a cut of glass.
Smile beaming from his face.
He stepped off the aeroplane into the grey.
It was just another day.

He steps into the train, which to him appeared unsophisticated and mundane.
Not like the ones seen in those black and white Christmas movies.
The smell of grease and diesel permeating the air — promising something new.
He enters into the small room of gloom.
The premise: this world is so alien from the…

Photo by Damir Spanic on Unsplash

We wrestled, trying to capture each other’s breath.
Restless and free, we aspired to swallow and devour each other’s hunger.
A struggle ensued: each wanting to convey the intensity of the desires to consume each other, souls exposed we broke free of the chains of conventions and preconceptions, and like wild waters, we roared.
We bite and roll, teeth and limbs clashing against each other, skin rubbing against skin: the friction intensifying the hunger.
We devoured and erased time.
We licked and salivated, tasted, inhaled, and exhaled.
The waves came rushing over each other, rocks clashing against rock: to erode…

Photo by 41330 from Pixabay

Sometimes it is better to wait. A good analogy would be eating foods in season. The anticipation makes the fruit/ food taste so much better. Being reacquainted, forgotten sensations reignited, back to a familiar yet foreign place and time, the sobriety of being humbled by the act of savoring and contemplating becomes a meter to the soul. So many emotions triggered and come alive to impress on your long-lost states of being. The winter, spring, summer, fall are thus defined seasons for a reason. We eat strawberries, mangoes, peaches, and plums all year round. …

Photo by Dellon Thomas from Pexels

Go there sisters, whoop that ass and show some sass, big bold, beautiful and proud, lifting your soul from the pits of the ghetto, showing them that you can, braising their hide with your attitude, you have the amplitude to magnify: positive vibes to their negative types, you can move to the groove and elevate your minds, creating rhythm with your moves, from the top of your heads to the sole of our feet, from Baltimore to the ugly land we are fighting for freedom, salvation in education, free yourselves from their sad-ass vibes.

Sisters now is the time to…


Interested in people, nature, science and technology, and history. MSc in Research Methods (Birkbeck), MA Industrial Design (UAL)

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store