My dystopia unravels before my eyes,
disintegrating world ties into dust and what I held dear with it.
If you could hear it, you’d hear drills excavating the substrate of my fear,
Catalysts to react in no other way
But trust in God alone.
In the midst are very real gems that stem from
Relationships built up before;
Constantly imploring me to be the best;
Yet locked in my chest is a dragon,
Locket abreast with insecurity that bellows
To purge them all in the same flame;
They’ll all be gone tomorrow, right?
As sandstorms rage, exfoliating security in sandy hurricanes,
I’ve been left bare as grains fade away,
Precious stones and cobble alike
Sifting between unsure fingers,
Undecided if to clench or not.
But it’s all fading away,
And I’ve rescinded all control.
My dystopia unravels before my eyes,
disintegrating world ties into dust and what I held dear with it.
If you could hear it, what would you do?




Eyes shudder behind calculated frames.
Stutter as shutters applaud and bring you into focus,
Liquid flooding across to wash my vision clean;
Retreating back to ducts where in safety those tears may lie.
I see you.
My astigmatism not letting me focus too much but yet looking to
The future.
Where I
Digress. Closer to hand are plans and schemes that capture my attention
Slipping between photographs and slideshows to memories I prefer to keep inside my head.
Curiously entwined in pockets of time and places, purpose and beautiful  design
Beauty has been held within these eyes of mine
To flutter, and to escape; released to a reprieve where time and place plan to dance again; their stage a coincidence.  These rays incident on longing eyes and hopeful hearts
Clinging to thoughts that have yet to burst into reality.

I hope to see you again.

Note to Self

Rancid as the raunchy ruses of your adolescent mind

You retracted to remote locations

Ravishing your love on foreign gods.

Ferric the blood rushing to your nostrils,

It drips red and rusty; marring your innocence;

Guilt like a raging bull at the sight.

Musty from the sweat of resistance you lie,

Too strong to repel your pride,

Too weak to resist your struggle.

It’s okay to risk second glances to from varnished floors,

Rather than resorting to fresh pine wood.

Rummaging through your trash only restricts you,

Restraining you from the truth;

Learn that you are loved.

Let His love lavish you in lavender,

Relinquishing the reminiscent stains of the past.

He’ll leverage your loneliness with forces centripetal

Launching you to lovely  fields,

Labelling you fearfully and wonderfully made.

Love yourself, inhale the bouquet of your radiance,

And shine for others to see.



Life proposes pauses;

A distinct monotone

Of mundane and muddled melodies

Missing the distinct, sharp punctuation of the things

You hope for or despise.

A palpable discourse of respite:

Most times, needed but not wanted.

You wait

A lot


Life itself at times.

Nights staring into nothing when silence catches on

Because the hustle of the day is done.

Running on fumes, no longer able

To overcome the inertia of your own stubbornness

You listen to the Voices

That have been speaking ever since.

Slow down.


My Grace is sufficient for you.

To walk in the blessing

Hi everyone! 😀

Just thought I’d leave something for you that I wrote a couple of years ago. Hope you enjoy!


To walk in the blessing

there’s a journey you must take,

past the point of unbelief

and beyond the guilt of your mistakes.

But what does it take to get there?

Faith like a mustard seed

and to trust with passion undying

To move into a land of promise

You have to keep on trying…

But can you walk alone?

If you perish, you perish,

for that’s what it takes

You give it your all,

Even if what you love most is at stake,

for His glory of course.

You seek Him first,

and walk circumspectly,

Persevering all the while,

When it doesn’t come immediately…

But it is hard sometimes…

It’s hard to walk in the blessing

when pressure screams at the door,

and the only voice you hear

is your own shouting “No more!”

But you keep on keeping on

LIke an Olympian at Athens

You don’t give up and you PUSH

you pray until something Happens

In the midst of your trial

you look to your Comfort and Rod

You stand still and wait

to know that He is God

And with wings like eagles

you soar up high,

continuing to walk but not fainting

no weariness to your eyes

For you know Your God

that He is a faithful friend

That those who love Him and are called

Good things come to them

You trod with your Cross toward Him

With Job like patience

When storms arise and floods raise against you

You have faith to walk on oceans.

You walk in the blessings

That He called you to receive

stumbling at times

but leaning on His mercy.

For when you were weak

His strength was perfect

so you kept on pressing

And became a more effective witness

Through hardship and trails,

and deep in the valley

You kept on walking to your destination.

faithfully toward your destiny.

But now, in the midst of your trial

You wonder if you’ll make it and how long,

But then He gently reminds you,

you’ve been walking in blessings all along.

And with one more step, your journey continues.

Fyzabad and Pies

Fyzabad and Pies,
Two things I chose to reject;
New journey, old shoes.

You see, we were kindred soles,
Oxfords walking down  paths orhthodox for lovers,
But Oxfords ain’t really meant for walking.
Still we pressed on; in tandem with the clack clack
of giddy heels down the streets of Mucurapo  every morning,
Where of course, the fyzo stand was located.
With bated breath and boldface bravery
A stranger breaches the boundaries of my headphones to say

“Fyzo by two.”

It teased smiles from the corners of my lips like varnish peeling off
Grandma’s wooden floors but it never gets old,
For even though it wasn’t my destination,
They say home is where your heart is, mine always on it’s way
to where you reside, and so deep inside I’d always whisper, “soon”.
Somehow the pie man found this rejection to be
Premonition that somehow I’d be hungry,
But na. So uh. yea.

It wasn’t long before these shoes realized they’d be a bit too uncomfortable
for the journey ahead. Instead, you said that you’d need to go on
solo, And I respected that. The fact that we were so close
Led me to let you know that’d I’d hop on one foot if I have to for a while,
but you were so shook that earthquakes turned to chasms miles wide; you put some distance between us.

Like a cereal killer you crossed off these cheerios till it went from oooooh
to oh.
As in OH.
As in o-n-e.
As in one.
Cause it only takes one o to spell alone;
It only takes one o to spell lonely;
It only takes one o to win a football match… (what?)
It only takes one o to spell confused,
Cause it only takes one O to spell his name.

I mean, what did you expect?
The neglect I now understand
But what I don’t is the stance you took
To so proclaim your need to look to God alone,
But here you are hooked into the mould of a hyprocrite
Cause you did just the opposite…
You said you like cats, right?
Just double checking the facts, cause they
might just be another one of your lies.
Bruno Mars? That blue pack soldanza chips…
Plaintain? Plaintain is sacred so I pray you
Were honest with that one.

I know theatre is your passion, so
I’m just recalling your actions to decide
If they were an act or not.
You called curtains on us, and I didn’t see the play,
So I wasn’t playing coy to the fact that it was merely
A change of scene. An obscene ploy in which I was the
victim. I was your muse and I hope I played the role
To your liking.

So I’m back to sneakers now.
It’s easier to be casual in  my lonesome
Than caught up in the illusory fantasy
That we’d be a pair.
I hold the bees now. And from what I see,
This whole affair was far from beautiful.
I don’t hope he makes you happy.
He’s a good man, so he’ll probably do that anyway.
I’m just too grown to invest any more emotion
Into someone who still plays childish games.
Fire bun Fyzabad (except you Nicky, you a good  one),
And pie man, maybe one day I might give you a sale,
But grease and salt just sounds bad for my health right now.

Fyzabad and Pies,
Two things I chose to reject;
New journey, old shoes.








Letter to my heart

Dear heart,

Why are you like this?
Why do you incessantly insist this necessity of love interest,
Not really wanting to commit at this time but just for the heck of it?
Women are not for your benefit, so suck on this loneliness and cherish it
Be humble and treasure the sweet tender nectar of patience and relish it
For fainting at every brown skin is not productive for reaping in due time,
Curls don’t yield the returns to which your investments define.
So you better get back in my chest, keep time to that 4/4
Play to the score of my vocal chords when I say chill.
Not every beautiful soul is yours to behold,
Celebrate them and nurture them to grow.
Be their brother, their friend, towards no end,
But just to treat them as daughters of your most High God.
You are desperately wicked, whimsical and intrepid
You go too far and you’re way to reckless,
But I wanna care for you because honestly, you’re just too stupid
To really think on your own.
I worked really hard to piece you back together,
But duct tape and super glue won’t last forever.
Take some time, let the stitches hold.
Beat again. Feel again.
Let the blood circulate within, oxygenate and release
In the constant ebb and flow of time.
Don’t push yourself.
My arteries are just fine so stop falling victim to that silly archery.
Cupid ain’t Jesus.
And neither are you.
It’ll be fine little buddy.
Just trust me.


All credit to theAwkwardYeti.com

On Being Social

Hi everyone! This is a piece from my past that I thought I’d share with you, since things here have gotten a little… dormant lately 😦 I hope you enjoy!

I follow her like twitter, in desperate hunger for her 135 characters that meander the truth that lies in deeper waters; wishing to slide in her dms and inquire further but it just seems like I’m somehow always blocked. Her account’s so private the only one who knows what’s in it is the Holy Spirit. I like and reply though, in efforts to pry into the solution she cries or hopefully dry her eyes. Now I know my Facebook status doesn’t read in a relationship but our  relationship is no secret. Sometimes though, it is a mystery to me. The memories are lit; back when things were legit and we’d love each other with hopes of mutual benefit, but now, she hardly reacts to me anymore. Not sure if it’s the memes but she just seems to not be there on my feed. Hers is still pumping though, but reruns run her territory these days. It looks like we do share memories after all. She responds in group chats but often she won’t text back and I’m left to wonder what’s app with that. Seen often but not heard from, but she’s been trying and I know it. I’m not on snapchat but I’d rather not use that to hear her stories. Or messenger. Or whatsapp. Or Facebook. It seems even excel may have stories soon too but it still won’t access the words that I desire from her. If you’re thinking she’s the worst ever, shut up. I don’t often know her story but neither do you. I have but a foretaste of what she goes through and I will lay waste to any who judges her based on what they see. Underneath she struggles. She huddles behind night screens and screams for release from things she wishes were but a dream, but wears a smile cause she knows she will get through this. She’s strong, but I wish she’d not use that as an excuse to bear it all alone. I just want to be the one she runs to post her statuses to. That when something exciting happens I’m the one she runs to instead of the world, because to her,  I am her world. It’s not wishful thinking, it’s just going to be a little way down the timeline. I may be bleeding, but I’m not dead yet, and I’m not going down without a fight.

What a privilege to trust in Jesus


What a privilege to trust in Jesus
When burdens leave you heavy.
Heaved to your chest, sweaty from the scorching sun,
Packing your own insecurities on the riverbank;
The bloodstream of your thoughts,
Flowing into every aspect of your life.
A privilege to know that you can let go,
And have Him carry it for you.
Take a rest under His branches,
And shade in the cool afternoon,
Seeing all the beauty of the nature you missed;
The beauty of His nature;
Not to worry how it went from a still blessed peace
To a nightmare of a storm,
Because He willed the clouds away and lifted you from the ocean.
Walking on oceans could be tiring sometimes,
And staying afloat a bit troublesome when you’re not looking His way.
I may not understand why it’s come to this,
Or why I should even try when my efforts seem futile.
But nevertheless, because You say it,
I’ll cast my net in deep waters.
Weather my net be full and breaking,
or just as empty as when it was tossed,
Whatever my lot, I trust You.


An ethereal, deathlike embrace.

A grace that blankets me from the insanity of existence,

I sleep. Often tossed between regret and repentance

I distance myself from reality, tossing the sheets and beats of this heart aside;

I long for that fragmented respite.

It’s an escape. From me and who I’m meant to be,

Because the journey to the latter is arduous and painful.

I sleep because I know better, but don’t want to strive for it.

I dive asunder the waves of slumber because I want attention

But won’t care enough to give myself it

I turn blind eyes to my heart and beg for someone else to take care of it;

I’m selfish, lonely and weak.

Dreadfully unique and misunderstood, poured out with no refill

Cause ain’t nobody got the juice; I’m a dream junkie.

Please help me.

Not you; but me.

You can’t help because you’ve been asleep for years now.

I was never meant to be the strong one;

Just a guy with a big heart and brittle bones

Strong aspirations with lazy undertones

A donut,  perfect and beautiful with a gaping hole

That no one should have to fill but Jesus.

Sleep on me: I’ll kiss you goodnight.

I blow no alarms because I live in silence.

I have no qualms with you living your life;

I will not beg to be a part of it..

Even when I want to be.



I’m just another beggar in need of a morsel;

I’ll point you to where the bread is,

But sometimes, I just don’t know why

But I just don’t go myself.