I watched my brother die. A mind sharp, within a wasted frame, Too late for the magic of modern medicine Resus factor, a mendable trait Through ignorance and bad advice, an inevitable fate Our family’s eternal shame. An invalid boy, unable to partake in the outdoor game. I was too…

When I was a little boy growing up in a small, overlooked, virtually unknown part of the world under beneficent colonialism, the concerns and dynamics outside of this backwater sphere were as relevant as the occasional weekend cinema for which I was mostly too small to attend. In other words…

When the prophets of greed and destruction Sit with sober and civil decorum On a high stage used by kings and emperors of old Smug behind the shield wall of paid soldiers Portrayed with a larger-than-life image Expanded by the mighty hand of technology Writ bold for all to see …

Tomorrow is just another day. No use in worrying That’s what most wise folk say Got to keep living; stop griping. Make money for those bills to pay With eyes closed, we keep dreaming To reach the misty heights Not recognising we are merely fish in a murky sea swimming …

Chapter I It was not that he was afraid. Fear was never an issue. Neither was it true that he did not like people. He had seen these condemning thoughts floating in the eyes of others like shadows behind a gauze curtain, even from those who had known him on the long…

An extract from the above novel CHAPTER VI The further south they travelled, the hotter and drier the forest became until, eventually, the trees seemed to give up the struggle, and the savanna took over. They had been on the move for over two months now. Scarily, they had not…

An extract from the above. CHAPTER XXII Red, livid streaks covered his exposed neck and the backs of his forearms. His sweat-soaked body was dirt-covered, and he stank; stank of swamp water and unidentified vegetation. He itched everywhere. Reaching up with a swollen, thick-fingered and puffy hand, he scratched at…

The glare was blinding — a sheet of intense, white, searing light. I recoiled from the horror of it. Like an insect hiding under a damp log, its shelter overturned, I tried to scamper back to that foul womb that was my home, back to my mam whose rotting corpse…

An extract from a book of the above title CHAPTER XIII A person knows when he is genuinely empty, for even his tears have deserted him. His centre is a dry place where nothing lives, and there is no memory of emotion. He sees and hears but does not feel…