Melancholia of The Drunk

Rants & Monologues by Phill Ibsen

  • UNJUST SOCIETY

    CASE NO: 001 Somewhere in Kisumu, inside the slums of Manyatta at around 8:00pm, I hear a frail knock on my single room “empire apartment”. I had a long day at work (internship) and I just got home. I was hesitant to open the door for I was oblivious to the nature of the matter… Read more


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  • Memories unchained

    How can you easily forget about someone who possibly merged your volcanoes of complexities into one single ball of simplicity, Till you understood her intentions, but yours were snobbishly misguided whence she gave you a lifetime full of joy braced by lashes of kisses and smooches on cheeks,  on her forehead you implanted a painted… Read more


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  • #Dark_Art

    When an author writes a dark literature, possibly about DEATH. it excites him. Not by the mere fact that he’s more attracted to the DARK, but because how well he paints its picture. It ignites. How he brings to DEATH life fascinates. how he gives a faceless torment a face. He is all aware of… Read more


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  • STUPORS’ PARADISE

    Yesterdays’ gone and today is here, whilst tomorrow waits for the desperate souls solicitously tapping on their subconscious to unleash fragments of memories once lost. Such he is; basking on the fluorescent light in his apartment, making him appear more jaded than he actually is. It’s the closest thing he has to sunlight. It’s been… Read more


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  • HOPE!!!

    My eyes hurt It hurts so bad For I can’t see myself falling in the Aura of serene For I seem to be trapped in an inauspicious vacuum Where nothing not less than a silhouette exists Where not a slightly lit light emanates It’s life Sometimes you just don’t see Disdain is what you feel… Read more


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