Different Lines

Different Lines

The street looks different through scratched Perspex and burning petrol. Buildings and people morph into a grey spectrum – speed of shadows providing distinction. Despite hundreds of voices chanting “kill the pigs” and the thud of bricks and scaffolding poles on riot shields, I still hear my heartbeat and taste fear inside choking acrid smoke. God placed me in a privileged box and I struggle to connect with their rage, their poverty, their isolation; thinking only of how to keep family and friends away from a eulogy.

Anger floods the street
Waves of hatred roll against
The Establishment

© Davy D 2017

First Blood


To celebrate my difference,
They squeezed me into the “normal” box.
played along,
For this moment.

Sniff – the fragrance of your pallid skin.
Feel – your fading heartbeat.
Lick – your fresh drawn blood.

You were destined to be the first.
Never to be the last.

© Davy D 2016 

Written for November Notes, hosted by Rosema at A Reading Writer and Sarah at Heartstring Eulogies.

Day 26 Music Prompt: For the First Time by The Script.




For the Word-High July Prompts of Filipino Words hosted by A Reading Writer.

Paraluman – (n.) A muse that inspires artistically.

My Valentine

heart-of-stone-1316008-640x480For my beautiful wife Sarah.

She caught my gaze across a crowded room,
And from that moment our souls became one.
Restoring love in a hardened heart, she
Allows the light to shine through darkened days.
Her heartbeat the song from where true life sings.