Creative Writing, Ishaisms


You have to listen carefully. It's very faint. Amid the barking and howling of the dogs in the neighborhood, it can easily go unheard. Perhaps it's a good thing then, that it happens around midnight. Come to think of it, most cries do. I don't know when it first began but it's been three nights… Continue reading Heard

Ishaisms, Poetry

White fire

Image from Pinterest Walk barefoot, there's warmth in the woods,just as the wee hours set softly in, dark bluebefore the alabaster Dawn stretches herselfand the Moon hides himself 'neath her hues Walk barefoot, there are footsteps to guide youa river glistening in the hypnotic ivory glowsongs of mad drum beats, and lovers' sighssounds of rustling… Continue reading White fire

Ishaisms, Nostalgia, Poetry

Lost Child

nobody listens when you need to be heard the most from the blues to the utter darkness, couldn't care less, no if there is no room for life after catharsis why am I looking why am I even looking for my northern lights? Sad monotones from sad keys of monochrome sadder dreams of playing those… Continue reading Lost Child