Poetry
Cool Hand Luke
Cool Hand Luke In a remote winter stretch of the Southern state, the ledger of the prison rolls black‑and‑white, and there stands a man—Luke, with a stare that’s mute, his beard trimmed like a
Read more →Manic
The Manic Waltz In the dimming light of a London evening, the city hums a low, restless beat; rain slaps the cobbles like a drummer’s wrist, each splash a phrase in someone’s mind. There, in
Read more →Joker
The Joker's Riddle In London’s misty lanes I hear a laugh, A cackling echo that no Londoner can halt. Not a clown of court, but mortal’s worst delight, A mind unravelling under the city’s
Read more →Eight
In the quiet quiet of a London evening’s glow, I count the eight brass‑band notes that swell, Each rung a promise, each hymn a gentle oath— A rhythm of a town where bargains
Read more →The Apartment
The Apartment In the middle of the city’s restless hum there sits a small three‑storey block, brick on brick, and within one of its steel‑frame bones there is a hatch, a narrow door that
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