Iere in Maracas Valley

The great English poet Charles Kingsley (Water Babies) visited Trinidad in 1869 to spend Christmas with his friend and the governor in office, Sir Arthur H. Gordon. Story goes; during his stay he found his way down South in the village of La Brea where he interacted with some of the remaining Amerindian population and […]

Read More Iere in Maracas Valley

Crick, Crack.

In the West Indies, we love a good story. They reside in everything; our carnival celebration and our music to name a few. Calypso is just commentary set to trotting beat, songs that are true harbingers of our history. Crick crack is a quick prelude to a fable. It’s like throwing a penny in the […]

Read More Crick, Crack.

Oxford, Comma.

“Very nice sort of place, Oxford, I should think, for people that like that sort of place. They teach you to be a gentleman there. In the polytechnic they teach you to be an engineer or such like. See?” G.B. Shaw I went to university in Oxford, did you know? Oh yes, twas quaint. I’m […]

Read More Oxford, Comma.

Drunk in Life

There are a gaggle of men who sit outside my first-cousin’s gift store. They are drunk. I’ve been her assistant during my unintentional 365 day sabbatical in the developing world, i.e. Trinidad & Tobago, i.e. Home, i.e. Nooooo. It’s a sweet little store, and my first-cousin is a shrewd yet kind businesswoman, she likes kids and […]

Read More Drunk in Life


I hate few. Though, I like to hate, i enjoy it as much as loving. Both come with a potency that is equally inebriating. It scares me at times that I understand hatred more than love, perhaps this clarity attracts the dark interludes I’ve wafted through thus far. I don’t think I’m alone in this, in fact […]

Read More BrickBat

Pour Encourager les Autres

I had my first coup d’etat at around 4 years old. It was 1990 and a local terrorist organization clumsily tried to take over Trinidad & Tobago from one of our only upstanding leaders, ANR Robinson, who recently passed-away. Shots were fired, people died. Robinson had a gun staring him in the face and still motioned an attack […]

Read More Pour Encourager les Autres

I Have Nothing to Write About

I have nothing to write about, i feel wedged between two hollow walls, both lacking inspiration and direction. But i am a writer. It’s entrapment being such a thing and having nothing to say. I feel trapped by so much, mostly the intricacies of life and how once unbreakable binds can be untethered with the greatest of ease. Nothing is certain […]

Read More I Have Nothing to Write About

The Rambler

Rambling ~ to talk or write in a desultory or long-winded wandering fashion. Walt Whitman loved a good wander in his murky recesses, “Song of Myself” is by far one of my most favourite works of his mostly because of it’s transparent self-involved beauty and introspect. Through me many long dumb voices, Voices of the […]

Read More The Rambler


Never give a sword to a man who can’t dance – Confucius Confucius had a few great tips there didn’t he? I should never be given a sword or any sharp object, there’s a reason why I’m terrified of knives; I simply don’t trust my general coordination. I injure myself a lot, sometimes I break […]

Read More Broke

The Life Carnival

Diplo wrote an article recently for Vanity Fair about partying in Trinidad & Tobago during our annual carnival celebrations. Yay! My personal favourite excerpt was where he labelled our nation’s son, Machel Montano as the “Justin Bieber” of T&T. Well, technically they both enjoy inflicting physical pain on others, so yes that will suffice Mr […]

Read More The Life Carnival