Ink – first attempt

A friend got me some ink for my birthday, so I decided to try it out with some tree drawings. I found some nice designs from  Alfred Dasha and tried my hand at one of these.



Happy birthday

Today is my best friend’s birthday, so I wrote her a silly thing. It might seem quite random to anyone else as the references are from our experiences together.


A decade-old gaze
across a classroom’s lab
the thought of what would never be
broken by a long sock gab

Our hot chocolate and custard
marking the end of a long night
fueling talks of books and tech
and sometimes mending a fight

Climbing ropes in bikinis
jumping from cliffs into the sea
swimming in phosphorescence
was our first travel spree

Floating in a desert quarry
stranded on a German lake
we seem to stick to water
and wonder if the moon is fake

After ten years of this silliness
which for nothing I would trade
I just want to say
happy birthday dear Jade

Poem – Embrace

I dedicate this one to my amazing husband.


An embrace, so soft and serene
yet rushing like a protective wave
leaving us suspended in a sea of clarity
no room for sorrow, no trace of pain

Your oceanic gaze becomes my horizon
illuminated by a tender smile
swallowing any wreckage
left to the passage of time

Poem – Grains of opportunity

Frank Herbert once said “Polish comes from the cities, wisdom from the desert”. He too, it seems, felt it’s power.

Dysphoria is buried slowly beneath the sand
as silence effaces the remnants of memories
The desert seizes all it surrounds
creating a coarse new canvas for the patient
It sees no past and has no conviction
as the sun seals what is forgotten beneath the grains
And that which was once unsettled
remains but a skeleton in a timeless illusory cage

Poem – Drakensberg

Living in Berlin makes me miss the mountains, so I wrote a poem about my favourite place in South Africa.


The stripes of zebras dance at your base
like colourless grass in the yellow drought
contrasting the green gleam of your face
explored by a disoriented scout

Your sharp cliffs are painted by twilight
carved through time by ancient seas
preparing for the approaching moonlight
to shimmer on ancient art with ease

Stars are pinned softly on your sky
paving a bright eternal trail
silent, apart from a baboon’s cry
barking towards the stellar veil

It’s time to bid farewell to you
dragon of my southern homeland

Poem – No life without palm trees

My first attempt at poetry.

To dad, who thought that there is no life where there are no palm trees.


A missing smile at the passing of a palm tree
like a gust of winter wind – cold, yet unseen.
The setting of the clutching branches free
abruptly calm and unexpectedly serene.

A missing smile at the passing of an ice cream
travelling through the void of a mariachi’s guitar
merging into an eternal musical stream
on a journey to becoming the dust of a star

A missing smile at the passing of a beach
silenced by the laughter of a small wave.
Your absence there, yet out of reach
leaving a small but timeless breach


Writing – Eternal Mirage

I decided to write a short story for some friends’ birthdays, which turned out to be a rather long story. I have attached the PDF with the story and just pasted a short snippet in this blog post.

Eternal Mirage

In the midst of an impressionable moment, many question that which is being experienced. Few, however, question the reality of everyday life and the absurdities that might replace everything that we are comfortable thinking that we know.


“How long is this flight meant to be?” asked Victor, signalling quotation marks when saying the word flight.

“I think it is an eight hour flight,” responded David, extracting a pair of headphones from his backpack. “Chomsky on noise cancelling earphones, sleep mask and hoodie should be enough sensory deprivation for the night.”

“Eight hour flight! How long does it really take to rearrange the surroundings to look like a new city?” Victor cried out.

“Perhaps they need to make some new molds to recreate the ruins,” teased Kate, while opening a book.

“We are going to Florence though, not Moldova,” said Julio with an expectant smile.

“Julio prego!” cried out the other three.

“When are Scarlet and Brendon joining us?” asked Victor

Kate searched her phone for an answer, “they are at a festival right now, so they will be joining us in three days.”

“Is this the one Scarlet is playing at?”

“Yes, the one in England. I’ve forgotten the name already.”

“Ah that’s great,” said Victor before turning to the flight attendant and asking for an aperol spritz.

“I’m sorry sir,” responded the flight attendant, “but we do not serve aperol spritz on the flight. We do however have white wine. Would you like a glass of that instead?”

“Abastanza bono” he responded, confusing the flight attendant. “Yes, that will do. Also a coke please.”

The flight was an uneventful one, with little turbulence or dramatic events. Upon their arrival, the four friends ensured that all passports were still on them. Unlike their last trip, everyone’s passport had made it through customs this time. Reassured, they stepped out of the airport and began searching for a bus.

“At least they could have put a bus station at the airport,” said Victor in disappointment. ” They had eight hours for this. Look at that fountain, that is definitely copy pasted from Belgrade. I remember it clearly.”

“Actually,” responded David, “that fountain does seem awfully familiar. I, however, have had eight hours of brainwashing with talks on anarchism, so perhaps I just want to overthrow the fountain.”

Kate laughed, “That building over there,” she pointed to their left, “also looks a lot like the houses in Sofia, don’t you think?”

“According to the map the correct bus station is on the other side of this compound,” Julio pointed towards a private building. “There is, however a bus fifty meters from us, I reckon we ask that bus driver if he can get us to the centre.”

The others agreed and headed towards the bus. After some confusion, a map was shown to the driver enquiring whether this was the correct bus for the displayed destination, leading to the driver finally nodding in confirmation. The friends rode on the bus for 20 minutes, until the driver indicated the correct stop at which to get out.

Once the group arrived at their accommodation, they showered, went out for dinner around the neighbourhood and went to bed early in preparation for touring the city the next day.


The next morning they drank tea and coffee on the balcony overlooking the city as they waited for each other to get ready for breakfast. It was a peaceful day. The lively city was not awake yet, allowing for the chirping of the birds to accompany the incredible view.

The peace was soon interrupted by Kate’s sudden surprise, “Huh!”

“What’s wrong?” asked David.

“That was really weird,” she responded. “My eyes just did a weird trick on me. It felt like my brain glitched.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I thought I saw dry trees in the place of buildings. Like the Dead Vlei, but over there,” she pointed in the distance. ”Not sure what is causing that illusion”

“Weird, maybe some sort of shadow playing with your mind.”

“Or…” Started Victor, “the rearrangers moved components of this stage prematurely.”

“Yes Victor, everything is-” started Julio, interrupted by a sudden frown.

“Everything is what?” asked David.

“Strange, I just had the same experience as Kate.”

“What? Also the Dead Vlei?” asked Kate

“Yeah. Behind the cathedral, right?” he pointed at the location that he was referencing.

“Yes same place as me,” responded Kate.

“I don’t see anything,” said David. “Victor, do you?”

“No, I don-” he began, “Wait, I do! Right there, more towards the left of the cathedral’s dome.”

“Oh wow, that is very weird. It doesn’t even fit in this setting. A theme park of some sort?” reasoned David.

“Yeah, let’s go investigate,” said Victor

To continue reading use this link (opens a PDF)