Seventeen Summer Haikus

  A painting that’s green An embrace of golden arms What a day to swim.   Forts without colour A sky undressed by summer Hues of life and death.   At the funeral An insect lies with the worms And the slum lives on.   Time after time now I have asked why lesbians love…

Championing Our Divisive Modern History

    As a devoted admirer of the art of history, a tour guide and a writer who lives on an island so densely packed and renowned for its history you would be right to expect a historical novel or two from me. I recently read an article about Jon Cassar, a Hollywood producer of…

This Sweet Land Chapter III

  III   The stars swam over the bay, hidden by the smoke that danced upwards from the busy beach. The long, red-sand bay of Ghadira was full of people on that wind-less, cloud-less May night. By the water’s edge the black sea turned luminous at the touch of so many gas lamps and crackling…

Maltese Elections: The Greatest Show on Earth

  No one does elections like we do in Malta. This is a fact un-related to political colours, ideologies and alignments. It is something to celebrate, and something that is prodigiously revelatory. Over the course of the last few months I’ve been working (and finishing) the first draft of a novel that has taught me…

The Proust Questionnaire for my Main Character

The Cuban     Finishing the first draft of a novel you’re proud of is a feeling worth more than wealth. And I choose my words carefully. As this is a novel about wealth – or lack thereof, or, better still, the lack of desire for wealth.  The main character of the story is Tony…

Hekk Ikun

Hekk Ikun   Mur aqbadlu jdejh. Mur zejjen il-kwiekeb mieghu. Mur sorgi fuq il-lewn maghzul, Mieghu.   Kollox mieghu. Ja melodija tas-sejjieh, Ara, mohhok hemm: Ser titlaqli jdejja Biex tmur hdejh, U ara, hares sew, Kif tmur tigri wara dak it-tifel B’ghajnejh Zonqor u xaghru xemxi U tbissimtu moderna daqs l-eternita’ – Araha titlaqli jdejja…

Valletta: the European Capital of Hipsters

    “On the long dinner table a field of food waved yellow in the dim light of dusk. The Cuban prepared deep fried pork rinds like they did in Cuba, but the rest of it was Maltese stuff; cold pasta, timpana, Maltese bread and sausages, aljolli, and saucers with olives and capers.” The above…

I Think Therefore I Am Maltese

      The best kind of patriotism is the one that remains unspoken. I am not a patriot, because I subscribe to the Voltarean rationale of patriotism: “It is lamentable, that to be a good patriot one must become the enemy of the rest of mankind.” I love travel, diversity and humanity itself –…