Truth In The Time of Cholera

 ## It is a nagging feeling to be lied to, By everyone I know, or have known, Bluffed by serial words, of a pastime, That makes white lies, burning wounds. I still howl, like a stray dog, being called So many names, so often, as I open up, for just some Feed, from kind souls,…

Pinocchio

He was just a boy Wooden in bulk, edge and bough He was drawn from a design of pencil – Unlike the clay-made man – on Jepeto’s drawing board. A marionette, a type of stringed puppet. The boy could only recite poetic lies How the moon was made of passion fruit cheese cake And fireflies…

Pinocchio’s Web

We live in a world that is fast eroding in ethics, where mainstays of deontology or rule-based ethics have been shattered in to pieces (except for the mightiest of them all – ‘though shall not kill’). It is a good thing though that sin is devalued (with the exception of murder) because we live in…

Lies

She tasted the bitter fruit – What was fed slowly from within – When she could not feel The tension of the frenulum Nor the movement of the tongue Only a concoction of bitterness Falling out ripe and moist They say it is a rite of passage When innocence discovers that There is no longer…