Shadow is the dark side, Where beings are hidden from plain view. Invisible not just to sight, but also to our other senses, our consciousness, We hope, and pray, that they, those dark beings, do not stir from their ...

Sensations fleet across the sky. Dwindling sunlight, and then the approaching merciful darkness.   ...

Entrance and exit – not expecting grandness. In fact I am not expecting anything in these uncertain times of loss. The realm gradually fell into disrepair; courtesy of overlords that prosper on neglect. They wo ...

I'd hate to have the sun dictate my life.... ‘invisible-i-am’ is a book in the form of a teenage girl’s journal, a personal testimony that illustrates, with piercing clarity and uncanny empathy, t ...

The dead, surrounded by the living, trapped by stained blocks of cement, tormented by the blistering sun, tarnished steel, the wall that keeps the unwanted. The wards, glare menacingly. Yet no one is about. ...

'Delia' by Humphrey King // shaping contemporary narrative / (out of nothing but air) / POLITICAL REALITY. / IS TRANSFORMED ...

Intense summer heat, the walkway covered with feet, squeezing, past broken tiles, of uneven pavement and soiled back lanes. Into their corporate rat race. Bangkok at night, brings about contradiction, When poverty do ...

Taunting shadows, they sway to the imagination, the limitless depths of the mind, playing to the touch of light. A weariness, creeping forth, tempting these tired eyes to slumber, yet I resist, with gasps; simply to ...

'MonkHood' by Humphrey King ...

No monks are there -- the cold wall stands oddly. / Where the pond shows fair, a dragonfly comes out and suns itself, / Where the monstrous tree makes a shade, a hummingbird flies out and around. / On ancient flagsto ...

After such time, the aches, the weariness seeps into the body, wrapping onto bones and generating the lethargic shroud of oblivion. Nay, can I not say that many times I wish, feverishly seek a retirement in a realm f ...

Bangkok, the metropolis built upon the broken shoulders of man, and yet, now the absence of humanity walks to the twisted lane and stalks the majesty of a city made from the tears of the poor. Life is cheap, or most ...

Hardship, an ingredient necessary to uplift the intoxication of the urban illusion. She, aye the one who squats on the floor, is surrounded by the capitalist ignorance of the race for luxury; she remains forgotten an ...

Every time I wander the back lanes of a sprawling city, wade on the sandy shore near the wooden jetty of a fishermen’s village, or move in random sequence through an intimidating palm oil plantation, I am remi ...

Ultimately, the artist and the revolutionary function as they function, and pay whatever dues they must pay behind it because they are both possessed by a vision, and they do not so much follow this vision as find th ...

The exquisite night sky provides no comfort for those living without a home. The cold, brutal rain wrecks havoc to those without shelter, pounding against their broken bodies. ...

Bangkok, many say, procreates menace at dusk, and the abomination of insecurity comes about, creeping forth, seeking what it cannot grasp during the day.  Yet I am moved by the night, this perilousness, this ...

To most so called civilized people, the land is nothing more than a commodity, to be exploited and ultimately discarded in the name of Western ‘progress’ and greed. The human cost of progress is not only ...

By abandoning the great illusion, we come to terms with ourselves through hardship and perseverance, and we embrace the reality that our immortality starts when others change their behaviors in response to our selfle ...

'Blue Girl' & 'Lullaby' by Humphrey King ...