Scary, funny short poem.
[...] Bramin, walking up drawn-out alleyways, carried a flyssa sword on his back ; a green-white pearl bracelet gifted to him by his mother ; a satchel leather bag with a long-gilded strap, which allowed enough room for flexible movements. That was why he wore it, as he was fully aware of the dangers which … Continue reading A TUMULTUOUS VOYAGE, Part. 6 [Short-Story Series] by Issa Dioume
Leaving a captain, his ship and the sea. Image by artist: -V
... I am the broken window pane. The howling, whistling window holding the panes. The midday shield stopping two forces from fusing. Living in perpetuity. Intermittence is my daily goal. One light shines through me. A shadow casts itself on and beyond me. Yet I hold. Performing a balancing act of light and darkness for … Continue reading Shavings [Flash-Fiction] by Issa Dioume
I tattooed pages full of ink Birthed characters who think Pushed my sanity on the brink People asked: why? I wink ------ ------- ------ Truth often trudges in faraway lands Epigrammatic eloquence sleeps in limbos Make in the zero, sinuous desert roads. There I am, kneeling, sand in hand Trying to quench and expand Seeing … Continue reading SAND RIDGES OF MY HAND [Poem] by Issa Dioume
A heart may never heal...
Bring back the rain, Tired of this desert plain, Fill in cracks with sparks, No to lumberjacks. Blowing bagpipes of rust, return to the dust. --- Hello to the raindrops Goodbye to the clocks Birds returning in flocks On the cusp of ravages Prove you are no savages ---- Relinquish the neon Look further, up … Continue reading Essentials
Written by Issa Dioume. Laughing, crying and living. As I hear the silent gliding of existence - the unstoppable and uncontrollable gradual advancement - from childhood to adulthood to elderhood and finally to the ground. Humans. Merely actors waiting for their cue, all having their exits and entrances. Once lights go out and the curtains … Continue reading In Medias Res
Written by Issa Dioume The windmill rotates ever slowly but ever surely - unfettered by the strongest of gales. Unperturbed by the occasional accusations of the greatest doubters. The windmill does not stop to consider what it is doing for it is all it has ever done and all it knows to do. No matter … Continue reading Windmills of Sisyphus – Issa Dioume