Don’t let the praise

Get to your head,

It’ll inflate

Trying to make space

For the ego

The result?


Whats left?



Year: Two Thousand and Something.

You were right mom,

Girls are not scary

But fortunately

Or unfortunately,

Some of them

Do bite.




Passionate about writing

Rhythm and rhymes,

Alliteration and assonance

Until given restrictions,

These assignments,

Deny me the art.



Dante’s Corner #4

Hey everyone, I hope you’re all having a pleasant week so far (today will be better considering the weekend has just arrived). If you visit my blog often you’ll notice that these past two days I haven’t been posting anything. Its mainly ’cause i’m back on the academic cycle again; which means I might not post as regularly as I usually do. I personally prefer posting each and every day because I always have a new emotion to share. However with the current situation I’ve decided to take pause for a little while, until I get things sorted. Since I strive to provide the best that I’ve got in my poetry, I believe I’ll be contradicting myself if I write while distracted by other things. Can’t break my promises can I?

For recent followers of my blog and others who might have forgotten, I’ve made two promises on this blog so far:

1) I’ll always do my best to provide good pieces. Who Is This Guy?

2) I won’t abandon my blog, well, as long as i’m alive 🙂 Promise


These are promises I’ll always keep, no doubt.


A friend of mine took this picture a few weeks back, he wanted to show me how I look when Im writing a poem haha


All I need to do is finish this little ordeal i’m facing and i’ll be back again 🙂 In the mean time (If you’re interested) you can check out the Categories on my blog. Each Category has a theme to it, full of posts that relate to the title given e.g.

Catalyst is full of posts I wrote a long time ago (2010-2013) before starting this blog.

Leaking Identity is full of personal poems and posts, things that actually happened.


If you do decide to skim through my old posts please leave a comment, I would love to hear what you have to say. So until later, take care 🙂




The allergic to E Challenge.



One of my best-friends Neha from the blog Forgotten Meadows invited me to participate in this absolutely challenging challenge (couldn’t resist that redundancy 😀 ). She’s one of the first people I met at the beginning of my blogging/poetic journey and has always been supportive, In turn I’d like to thank her for nominating me. If you haven’t visited her blog yet please do, as she offers very inspiring poetry; serene and calming in nature. (Here is a link to her attempt at the challenge The Link )

(Fun fact: She’s the reason I got interested in writing micro-poetry…*audience gasps*….I know right?) Thanks again Neha!


Before we start the No-saying-the-letter-after-D-or-before-F challenge, here are the Rules…


The rules:

  1. Write a whole paragraph.
  2. Without any word containing the letter “e”.
  3. By reading this you are already signed up.
  4. Challenge at least five bloggers to do the challenge.


The following  is my response:


Flying past all that is known, and is not, with no boundary, a wind. Kissing all that you know, with warmth, giving light, a gold shiny thing, Its a sun, right? At night, what many call a moon… In colour, I can say, It is bright and in contrast of black. All this, works constantly, with no pit-stop, no complaints. As individuals, living in a world full of much inspiration, having no doubts, should stay a norm.




For this challenge my nominees are:

Brett Fish




John White


Apologies If you’ve already been nominated before, otherwise If you haven’t, I hope you accept. Looking forward to reading your posts!







Tragic Magic.


If not lamentable

That he takes pride

In being the obstacle,

That blocks the light

At the end of the tunnel.



Going Through The Motions.

Always remember,

That slow-motion

Is better

Than no motion.



The Weather’s Intervention.

As she walked away

Tears trickled in vain,

As they were concealed

By the falling rain.



Delayed Reaction.

He didn’t get her

Until he no longer

Needed her.




Witnessing her tears flow

In abundance,


Makes him weak

At the knees,

But not today

… She was cutting onions.



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