Thanks of a Nightlark

I must thank Night for the truths she whispers when she comesI must thank Day for showing me the error in all those thoughtsBut sometimes Night is right,And Day has only wrong to sayFor Night, when alone, is dreams, is freedom, unshackled thought,While Day is surrounded, crowded by other minds--ideas lashing in the air.

Chronos Devouring His Son [Short-Story] by Issa Dioume

Time seems to slow like running water gone still. Haunted and lost by the ghosts of the minds’ windmill trapped in the slow tic-tac motion of the clocks’ hands that kill. Strangling air out from his throat. I need a cig thought Barnaclos. Nothing beats the delicious smell of cigs, warm coffee and cold beer.…

Ruby the Cat – Issa Dioume

(Writing by Issa Dioume & Picture: by artist - V) Sometimes, before shutting my eyelids and drifting into deep slumber, I imagine a miniscule-looking black cat standing firmly atop clouds, around midnight; bathing in the moonlight. Like a piece of charcoal in the night's sky; only made visible by the grey clouds beneath its paws…