I just wanted to say hello
It was impossible to write the first "hello"
Impossible embrace the last good bye
Unthinkable it was that the book would have an end
Or the earth be shattered
Or the stars turn black
And the sun bleed to death , yearning to be the moon
Never did I think the incorruptible
The indestructible would be gone
That I'd be strong enough to swallow the scorpions of understanding whole
For peace of mind I fell into the well of reality with graceful reluctance
Boastful silence - was all I found solace in for summers on end it seemed
And today, in this fruitful time of winter
In the heat of the diplomatic friction
I just wanted to say hello
To a ghost
Because , "anything is possible"
If you want to free the mind
And I ...freed mine ...
Wednesday, 2 October 2013
if you only knew...
If you only knew
That the resurrection was not surreal
Those words that need not be spoken
A hope I'd still die for
A love I'd still lie for
But indecisive are the literary devices
Not sure which is worthy enough to clearly exemplify the feelings
To aptly describe the healing
To accurately capture the meaning of shy stares
But who cares? The El dorado in your eyes still glares
Memories are criminals of my sleepless nights
Roaming on my trained lips are those thoughts of you
Robbing me of peace of mind
Stealing pieces of time
Seconds are all I have to say all I can in forbidden stares
A love for which I cared
A heart to you I gave
If you only knew
That the resurrection started with your stare...
That the resurrection was not surreal
Those words that need not be spoken
A hope I'd still die for
A love I'd still lie for
But indecisive are the literary devices
Not sure which is worthy enough to clearly exemplify the feelings
To aptly describe the healing
To accurately capture the meaning of shy stares
But who cares? The El dorado in your eyes still glares
Memories are criminals of my sleepless nights
Roaming on my trained lips are those thoughts of you
Robbing me of peace of mind
Stealing pieces of time
Seconds are all I have to say all I can in forbidden stares
A love for which I cared
A heart to you I gave
If you only knew
That the resurrection started with your stare...
Tuesday, 25 June 2013
Past to Present to Future
where does that leave me ..
the past escapes my grasp ever so often
appearing, disappearing, before I can even learn from him
he is the sea breeze in the lungs of trees
he is everything I've ever known ...a real dream
the present stays long enough for me to taste
long enough for me to romance
long enough for m to be vulnerable
but the past ...
the past has danced its way into the present
the future eats at the table of my loving enemies
these "principals" of time....
..invaluable and in me they have timed my existence, pleasure and pain
in me they have arched rainbows of happiness that are too high in the clouds to see on rainy days
future, present ....past
past..to present to future....
where does that leave me if my past , present and future are floating in the hour glass , passing through the small hole of hope ?
floating in mystery
floating in all that is sultry
floating beautifully...more alive than the effects of itself
more painful than the slashes of it's uncertainty
I spin in the whirlpool of confusion
distorting my sight for the answers are simply too unclear, too vague to see , to feel, too unreal
what does one do when the soil of the garden has died
or the stars in the sky refuse to show their nakedness
what does one do when the heart refuses to speak and the veins have started marching to the dawn in the east , in search of a new beat....
sanity poisoned for plausible answers to the question born exist beyond the borders of reason
trying to escape the principles of time , but only stumbling into those desolate places in search of new release
but is it even possible to escape time when it's principle spirit lives with you ?
it is impossible to escape that which has become you ....
or have I become the clock on the wall
destined only to declare that which has gone, here and to come?
the past escapes my grasp ever so often
appearing, disappearing, before I can even learn from him
he is the sea breeze in the lungs of trees
he is everything I've ever known ...a real dream
the present stays long enough for me to taste
long enough for me to romance
long enough for m to be vulnerable
but the past ...
the past has danced its way into the present
the future eats at the table of my loving enemies
these "principals" of time....
..invaluable and in me they have timed my existence, pleasure and pain
in me they have arched rainbows of happiness that are too high in the clouds to see on rainy days
future, present ....past
past..to present to future....
where does that leave me if my past , present and future are floating in the hour glass , passing through the small hole of hope ?
floating in mystery
floating in all that is sultry
floating beautifully...more alive than the effects of itself
more painful than the slashes of it's uncertainty
I spin in the whirlpool of confusion
distorting my sight for the answers are simply too unclear, too vague to see , to feel, too unreal
what does one do when the soil of the garden has died
or the stars in the sky refuse to show their nakedness
what does one do when the heart refuses to speak and the veins have started marching to the dawn in the east , in search of a new beat....
sanity poisoned for plausible answers to the question born exist beyond the borders of reason
trying to escape the principles of time , but only stumbling into those desolate places in search of new release
but is it even possible to escape time when it's principle spirit lives with you ?
it is impossible to escape that which has become you ....
or have I become the clock on the wall
destined only to declare that which has gone, here and to come?
Sunday, 23 June 2013
Predictable Pleasure
move me
place the red sheet over my face
command my wetness
dance me into a corssiant of happiness
think....only of eating me
satisfy thy thirst until the moment resembles forever
crumple the skin on my back like leaves
my pleasurable tease,
i desire thee
that grew in the musk of the evening's sensuality
the vines on my head you twist, allow them to interlock in your grip
you are the musician, the author of my operatic convulsions
i take thee not only to thrill me
but to bind me unevenly to all the fingers on your hand
with you i am unpredictable to my own rules
fracture my visions and nurse them on your commitment
construct me by the feet of ecstasy measured by the moans that escape from burning thoughts
fiddle me into a floating reality of the surreal
two step with my lips, control the tempo of their satisfaction
and
then
disappear .........................
be no more..
for this
i
am accustomed to.
Thursday, 6 June 2013
The Cast Away
There is an evolution waiting to be heard
Waiting to be told…
There is an intoxicated wisdom sleeping on the sidewalk
It’s not a vagrant
Just part of the evolution
- A cast away
A cast away with dreams that sleep on the horizon
We anchor him on that lonely island with our uncaring smiles that bring send to his shores of pain more waves of disapproval
The cast away seeks a change as
Waiting to be told…
There is an intoxicated wisdom sleeping on the sidewalk
It’s not a vagrant
Just part of the evolution
- A cast away
A cast away with dreams that sleep on the horizon
We anchor him on that lonely island with our uncaring smiles that bring send to his shores of pain more waves of disapproval
The cast away seeks a change as
I watch him as he contemplates the height of his
tears
They are building that stand so tall just three
inches away from God’s feet
Funny how his tears find god before his silent
prayers do
He parts the seas of his teary world… in silence …
One day
He will use your unwelcoming arms as a catalyst to usher in the reign of the revolution
He will preach the evolution
And when he does
The roles of importance will change
By that time
We will become the cast away, sailing on the deep end of ignorance
Soon we will be anchored by our stubbornness and our minds will forever remain stagnant because we refuse to listen when the cast away cried the evolution
The many times he screamed silently for a revolution - for a change and not your "small change"
But on that faithful day when he sings the revolution
It will be a song sung so loud , even by the deaf it will be heard
The words of the cast away can be very powerful
The change starts
By simply .........listening ....
One day
He will use your unwelcoming arms as a catalyst to usher in the reign of the revolution
He will preach the evolution
And when he does
The roles of importance will change
By that time
We will become the cast away, sailing on the deep end of ignorance
Soon we will be anchored by our stubbornness and our minds will forever remain stagnant because we refuse to listen when the cast away cried the evolution
The many times he screamed silently for a revolution - for a change and not your "small change"
But on that faithful day when he sings the revolution
It will be a song sung so loud , even by the deaf it will be heard
The words of the cast away can be very powerful
The change starts
By simply .........listening ....
Monday, 20 May 2013
this is my home ...
This is my home
I don't sit on the chairs anymore
Derelicts of sadness stuffed with the acid of failed relationships
The wooden floor is now my bed
The queen sized paradise of peace in the bedroom still holds the chalk marks of my murdered spirit
It still holds that scent of blood that drips of the razors edge of my curiosity that revealed the truth in every empty promise every suitor has ever told
This floor that holds foot prints
A maze of lies ...sweet lies ...a satisfying emptiness
I see toe prints that still hide the finger prints of my heart in their bosom
I see these footprints , those on their way in bumping into the ones on their way out
This is my home
I don't invite friends or family
And those that tried to be a friend to me hung rusty crystal chandeliers in the ceiling of friendship
each crystal falls like a shooting star
Lunging at the soul of my emptiness
But the emptiness is refracted and reflected
And vanishes in pursuit of happiness
The darkness shines so brightly that the footprints on the floor glow
Dishes unwashed
No detergent seems strong enough
Foaming screams and tears weren't adequate enough to remove the stains of kisses framed on the edges of wine glasses
Or our scent that tainted the inner walls of those bowls we ate fruits from
The dust blows freely
Unloading their dirt from the cobweb of baskets cuz spiders are too busy fornicating
The dust blows
The dust swings from the red vines in my eyes until the rain saturates the palm trees
I want to move but all I've ever know is this wooden house
With its cracks and termites
With its warm wood with a heart that's half green and half purple but no one knows that the inner walls of where I live are painted in black
I want to move but all I've ever known is this wooden house that smells of me and my memories of sex , ended relationships , flings , whips and broken dreams , this wooden floor polished by the frustration and the lingering unanswered questions
This house knows me and I know it
I own it
even in the face of its deficiencies I stay faithful
I have dreams of living concrete
But my soul isn't that hard yet
My soul still provides for my exes like termites to eat itty biddy bits of me
I want to move on from this relationship , but all I've ever known was pain...this pain ...this sweet pain ..this satisfying pain
I don't know this so called house of love these ghosts of yesteryear speak of
This is my home
Not suitable for guests
Moulded by tears unseen and untasted by the compassion of familiar faces
this is the place I call the inner me
I don't sit on the chairs anymore
Derelicts of sadness stuffed with the acid of failed relationships
The wooden floor is now my bed
The queen sized paradise of peace in the bedroom still holds the chalk marks of my murdered spirit
It still holds that scent of blood that drips of the razors edge of my curiosity that revealed the truth in every empty promise every suitor has ever told
This floor that holds foot prints
A maze of lies ...sweet lies ...a satisfying emptiness
I see toe prints that still hide the finger prints of my heart in their bosom
I see these footprints , those on their way in bumping into the ones on their way out
This is my home
I don't invite friends or family
And those that tried to be a friend to me hung rusty crystal chandeliers in the ceiling of friendship
each crystal falls like a shooting star
Lunging at the soul of my emptiness
But the emptiness is refracted and reflected
And vanishes in pursuit of happiness
The darkness shines so brightly that the footprints on the floor glow
Dishes unwashed
No detergent seems strong enough
Foaming screams and tears weren't adequate enough to remove the stains of kisses framed on the edges of wine glasses
Or our scent that tainted the inner walls of those bowls we ate fruits from
The dust blows freely
Unloading their dirt from the cobweb of baskets cuz spiders are too busy fornicating
The dust blows
The dust swings from the red vines in my eyes until the rain saturates the palm trees
I want to move but all I've ever know is this wooden house
With its cracks and termites
With its warm wood with a heart that's half green and half purple but no one knows that the inner walls of where I live are painted in black
I want to move but all I've ever known is this wooden house that smells of me and my memories of sex , ended relationships , flings , whips and broken dreams , this wooden floor polished by the frustration and the lingering unanswered questions
This house knows me and I know it
I own it
even in the face of its deficiencies I stay faithful
I have dreams of living concrete
But my soul isn't that hard yet
My soul still provides for my exes like termites to eat itty biddy bits of me
I want to move on from this relationship , but all I've ever known was pain...this pain ...this sweet pain ..this satisfying pain
I don't know this so called house of love these ghosts of yesteryear speak of
This is my home
Not suitable for guests
Moulded by tears unseen and untasted by the compassion of familiar faces
this is the place I call the inner me
Sunday, 12 May 2013
I am scared
I am scared
I write this not for sympathy, love or to be understood
I write this for me
For I am scared
I hope that at the end of this I can transfer the blood of these
fears into the veins of the strokes formed on the pages with this pen
…
I hope, that the pen is not my end
I hope that as I release these fears , im not left like a soft tissue
blowing into the garden of smiling thorns and nails
I am scared
I am not afraid of love but I am afraid of losing it
It takes a lot of strength to say this
The hair of these golden tears are so long I can plait them into
beautiful night mares
The sturdy bricks of these doubts , can build me a titanic until I
sail on the sea of what if you don’t like me and hit the ice burg of
your getting tired of me and I spilt , in two , sinking into the sea
of fears half alive , screaming at the decayed confidence that mourns
with me on the sea floor…. Not forgetting the sediments of happiness
that try to engulf my memories before I can even run to protect them
And even though I am scared
I am ready to say I love you
I need you
I want you
But its hard for you to hear me when my fears have my volume on mute
I am scared
I devour you and I devour me
Ive got these demons in me that only act when you are near …
Cuz you exorcise me …
And they know your power is as purifying by just the flicker of your stare ..
My demons are scared …
But I don’t want to be baptized in you and backslide into fears ..
And I wonder
Will you be forgiving then
Will you be patient
will you mould me into fold mountains when the tectonic plates of my
anger shift
will you tumble me into a hurricane of calm when my fears have
scattered onto rich soils of suspicion
will you say yes If I propose
and love me even when I oppose and refuse to disclose why im scared …
I am scared .. because I am afraid to lose you and I fear that In that
moment when my eyes are wet with satisfication and devotion when im
kissing you , my confidence will whisper …I don’t deserve to have you
I write this not for sympathy, love or to be understood
I write this for me
For I am scared
I hope that at the end of this I can transfer the blood of these
fears into the veins of the strokes formed on the pages with this pen
…
I hope, that the pen is not my end
I hope that as I release these fears , im not left like a soft tissue
blowing into the garden of smiling thorns and nails
I am scared
I am not afraid of love but I am afraid of losing it
It takes a lot of strength to say this
The hair of these golden tears are so long I can plait them into
beautiful night mares
The sturdy bricks of these doubts , can build me a titanic until I
sail on the sea of what if you don’t like me and hit the ice burg of
your getting tired of me and I spilt , in two , sinking into the sea
of fears half alive , screaming at the decayed confidence that mourns
with me on the sea floor…. Not forgetting the sediments of happiness
that try to engulf my memories before I can even run to protect them
And even though I am scared
I am ready to say I love you
I need you
I want you
But its hard for you to hear me when my fears have my volume on mute
I am scared
I devour you and I devour me
Ive got these demons in me that only act when you are near …
Cuz you exorcise me …
And they know your power is as purifying by just the flicker of your stare ..
My demons are scared …
But I don’t want to be baptized in you and backslide into fears ..
And I wonder
Will you be forgiving then
Will you be patient
will you mould me into fold mountains when the tectonic plates of my
anger shift
will you tumble me into a hurricane of calm when my fears have
scattered onto rich soils of suspicion
will you say yes If I propose
and love me even when I oppose and refuse to disclose why im scared …
I am scared .. because I am afraid to lose you and I fear that In that
moment when my eyes are wet with satisfication and devotion when im
kissing you , my confidence will whisper …I don’t deserve to have you
I love you
I love you ...
Like lungs love air
Like tongues love taste
- your taste
The taste of a sunshine slurpie
Or moon wine
The cocktail of seasons blended , whipped and dripped into the slits of my fears ...
I love you ...
Like couples love kissing , hugging , making love and ofcourse fucking
Like words love stroking their tongues on poets ...especially those places that are wet and warm , wet and warm , wet and warm until poets speak spasm and sigh phrases , one words and run on sentences ... that make no sense ... Cuz when you are in love .. Logic is a simply cliche
I love you
Like choking on icecream whilst being eatin
Like ropes love wrists
Like whips were born etch the screams from whence they came on moaning backs
I love you
Like kids day dream about their dreams on the stage of their reality
Like balloons yearn to burst and release the pent up frustrations
Like icecream melts at the mere sight of a spoon
I love you
Memories of you grow like hairs out of my folicles , that's why when I touch my hair ... I feel you ...
Pardon my exterior if it seems abit abnormal its just that my skeleton has been forced to grow extra bones , bones craved and fashioned out of my favourite moments with you
I love you
Like lungs love air
Like tongues love taste
- your taste
The taste of a sunshine slurpie
Or moon wine
The cocktail of seasons blended , whipped and dripped into the slits of my fears ...
I love you ...
Like couples love kissing , hugging , making love and ofcourse fucking
Like words love stroking their tongues on poets ...especially those places that are wet and warm , wet and warm , wet and warm until poets speak spasm and sigh phrases , one words and run on sentences ... that make no sense ... Cuz when you are in love .. Logic is a simply cliche
I love you
Like choking on icecream whilst being eatin
Like ropes love wrists
Like whips were born etch the screams from whence they came on moaning backs
I love you
Like kids day dream about their dreams on the stage of their reality
Like balloons yearn to burst and release the pent up frustrations
Like icecream melts at the mere sight of a spoon
I love you
Memories of you grow like hairs out of my folicles , that's why when I touch my hair ... I feel you ...
Pardon my exterior if it seems abit abnormal its just that my skeleton has been forced to grow extra bones , bones craved and fashioned out of my favourite moments with you
I love you
Beautiful Stranger
Sometimes I wonder
What did you do for a living
Were you a doctor?
Lawyer?
Or magician ? Cuz the greatest trick you"ve ever performed was making me believe that you didn't exist
I skipped many verses in this poem cuz there is hardly anything I can say about what I miss , hate , or love about you cuz your absence was the honey that intoxicated my numbness
Hence when you're near I can never feel your presence much less recognize you
Instead ... I wonder
Who is this stranger ?
And I'm not fond of strangers
I'm fond of you like books are fond of being forgotten
I'm fond of you like wives revel in the thought of being number two
I'm fond of you like throats think of swallowing 50 inch nails
Like chalk loves to be the author of boredom
I've never met you
I've only seen the skin in which you live
And I can't remember what that feels like
I can't remember what you look like
Yet I'm reminded that you really do exist everything I comb my hair or notice my sideburns
I am reminded of how your faint invisible kisses remain so visible .
20 years and I still don't know you
nothing is happy about today my dear sweet loving mother ...
Though not knowing you is probably a hybrid gift , some messed up half blessing half curse kind of wonderful...yet I still love that which I do not know
I don't know you
But I implore , remain where you are ...
I love all the mystery that abounds in the graveyard in which I've buried all of you
What ever all of you is or was
As I sit braced against your tombstone
Crying this blood you cannot see although it drips like lethal acidic kisses on your soul
I just want you to know
Your role will always be remembered ...
Yet I will always love that which I do not know...
What did you do for a living
Were you a doctor?
Lawyer?
Or magician ? Cuz the greatest trick you"ve ever performed was making me believe that you didn't exist
I skipped many verses in this poem cuz there is hardly anything I can say about what I miss , hate , or love about you cuz your absence was the honey that intoxicated my numbness
Hence when you're near I can never feel your presence much less recognize you
Instead ... I wonder
Who is this stranger ?
And I'm not fond of strangers
I'm fond of you like books are fond of being forgotten
I'm fond of you like wives revel in the thought of being number two
I'm fond of you like throats think of swallowing 50 inch nails
Like chalk loves to be the author of boredom
I've never met you
I've only seen the skin in which you live
And I can't remember what that feels like
I can't remember what you look like
Yet I'm reminded that you really do exist everything I comb my hair or notice my sideburns
I am reminded of how your faint invisible kisses remain so visible .
20 years and I still don't know you
nothing is happy about today my dear sweet loving mother ...
Though not knowing you is probably a hybrid gift , some messed up half blessing half curse kind of wonderful...yet I still love that which I do not know
I don't know you
But I implore , remain where you are ...
I love all the mystery that abounds in the graveyard in which I've buried all of you
What ever all of you is or was
As I sit braced against your tombstone
Crying this blood you cannot see although it drips like lethal acidic kisses on your soul
I just want you to know
Your role will always be remembered ...
Yet I will always love that which I do not know...
Discovery
I find that in my hate .. I can still love you
You leek droplets of frustration from the porous ceiling pipes of mistrust
Into the rusty bucket of my patience
Patience is now a patient
Tattered and torn
Broken , sore , cold
I find that sometimes profanity slingshots its way out of my mouth
But luckily wisdom exemplifies outstanding fielding and catch these bullets before they kill you
I find that you are weak and I am strong
And I'm nothing but weakness
And you are nothing but weakness
And we plough the lands of barren conversations
Hence none are ever fruitful
I find that we are both shackled
You are shackled to insecurities, misjudgments , a mind that transcribes verses on your tongue without the benefit of intellect
But if I interject ... I find my self also shackled to my ego of trying to force you to understand that your misguided perceptions conceived by an abstract thought fertilized by a surreal expectation of me birthed nothing but convenient truths and fantasies ... I wish you would use contraception before you birth these thoughts or at least listen to me so that I can avoid the gruesome abortion of your happiness
I find that you make me your world
Caring for me has become the axis
And you have me rotating around the sun of control
Whilst you penetrate the ozone layer of my mind with your carbon thoughts
Caring whilst consuming
Teaching whilst you are toxic
I find that you claim to be my friend but they say a dog that brings a bone carries one
And you carries lantin posts , the amazons , cities , states , hell .. You even carried the fossils of my past
I find that your betrayal thought me to respect you
You fondled my trust so sweetly she spread her legs the first night submitting to you her virginity
Then you told your friends of sweet her secrets tasted
I find that I trust to easily
Leaving myself bankrupt cuz I give my secrets on credit
I find that even the unforgettable will soon be forgotten
For the hardest thing to do sometimes
Is to find yourself
Sometimes the hardest thing to do , is simply doing what makes you happy
Sometimes I find , that the hardest thing to do is is to be honest and happy simultaneously...
You leek droplets of frustration from the porous ceiling pipes of mistrust
Into the rusty bucket of my patience
Patience is now a patient
Tattered and torn
Broken , sore , cold
I find that sometimes profanity slingshots its way out of my mouth
But luckily wisdom exemplifies outstanding fielding and catch these bullets before they kill you
I find that you are weak and I am strong
And I'm nothing but weakness
And you are nothing but weakness
And we plough the lands of barren conversations
Hence none are ever fruitful
I find that we are both shackled
You are shackled to insecurities, misjudgments , a mind that transcribes verses on your tongue without the benefit of intellect
But if I interject ... I find my self also shackled to my ego of trying to force you to understand that your misguided perceptions conceived by an abstract thought fertilized by a surreal expectation of me birthed nothing but convenient truths and fantasies ... I wish you would use contraception before you birth these thoughts or at least listen to me so that I can avoid the gruesome abortion of your happiness
I find that you make me your world
Caring for me has become the axis
And you have me rotating around the sun of control
Whilst you penetrate the ozone layer of my mind with your carbon thoughts
Caring whilst consuming
Teaching whilst you are toxic
I find that you claim to be my friend but they say a dog that brings a bone carries one
And you carries lantin posts , the amazons , cities , states , hell .. You even carried the fossils of my past
I find that your betrayal thought me to respect you
You fondled my trust so sweetly she spread her legs the first night submitting to you her virginity
Then you told your friends of sweet her secrets tasted
I find that I trust to easily
Leaving myself bankrupt cuz I give my secrets on credit
I find that even the unforgettable will soon be forgotten
For the hardest thing to do sometimes
Is to find yourself
Sometimes the hardest thing to do , is simply doing what makes you happy
Sometimes I find , that the hardest thing to do is is to be honest and happy simultaneously...
Monday, 6 May 2013
Your Taste
You drip down my hands like a melting "you and me"
You built your palace in every strand of my iris -you own me
You taste like chocolate covered drops of home-my honey comb
You comb my eye lashes with your kisses-oh how your taste is a maple syrup to my heart shaped pan cake memories
Rolling in the sheets of your scent
Its taste blends me into a mystical pulp- I taste your pulse
You whip me in your stare
With your stare
Like pores relish the wine- your natural oils
My blood boils
Veins curl
Moans coil into circles of committment
Your taste
Simmers me
Fills me
Kills me
Mends me
Breaks me
Emotions parachute onto uneven terrains of ecstasy
Your taste distills my doubt , turning them into a crystallized sigh of happiness
Your taste makes my fear skydive for Intoxicated by you they are fearless
Your taste sautes me in the heat of my silenced words
Your taste will forever be my most epic line of poetry unwritten and unheard
You built your palace in every strand of my iris -you own me
You taste like chocolate covered drops of home-my honey comb
You comb my eye lashes with your kisses-oh how your taste is a maple syrup to my heart shaped pan cake memories
Rolling in the sheets of your scent
Its taste blends me into a mystical pulp- I taste your pulse
You whip me in your stare
With your stare
Like pores relish the wine- your natural oils
My blood boils
Veins curl
Moans coil into circles of committment
Your taste
Simmers me
Fills me
Kills me
Mends me
Breaks me
Emotions parachute onto uneven terrains of ecstasy
Your taste distills my doubt , turning them into a crystallized sigh of happiness
Your taste makes my fear skydive for Intoxicated by you they are fearless
Your taste sautes me in the heat of my silenced words
Your taste will forever be my most epic line of poetry unwritten and unheard
Sunday, 5 May 2013
I want to live in colour
You inspire me to wear colour
I’ve always been attracted to the musical tones of grays
The corsets of pain worn on my veins
But you Ignited fireworks in my tonsils – I yearn to speak in colour
In my eyes, you released yellow and orange rays –a sunny explosion
I’ve always been painted in pain
But you make me feel like a resurrection, a resolution
You are not just different but you are the molecules of my essence
You are the sequins on my smile
You inspire me …to live in color
I’ve always seen through a telescope of fears, images of brides in a shiny white of pain far and wide
But you kissed my eyes, my iris reconstructed
Now a kaleidoscope of twisting shapes of us in colour
I’ve always been living the fears..
But you caress me even when you aren’t here … you paint me …with your care that roars over mountains and seas
These verses will not be perfect
To my emancipated emotions, words become the nemesis
Emotions blown through trumpet thoughts
Emotions stringed tightly on violins
Emotions carved into drums ….
He is the conductor to this orchestra
My words are innocent kids that are unable to comprehend the splendor before them
My words will never be able to sail on the hurricane waves in my veins
My words will never be able to quench my thirst to speak,
To scream, to translate the way he brings me to ecstasy with ease,
I am captivated ….
I want to live in colour …
I want dreams with colour …
I want my breath to be coloured with the hue of his skin
I want him ….
I want colour …
I want him … and no other …..
I’ve always been attracted to the musical tones of grays
The corsets of pain worn on my veins
But you Ignited fireworks in my tonsils – I yearn to speak in colour
In my eyes, you released yellow and orange rays –a sunny explosion
I’ve always been painted in pain
But you make me feel like a resurrection, a resolution
You are not just different but you are the molecules of my essence
You are the sequins on my smile
You inspire me …to live in color
I’ve always seen through a telescope of fears, images of brides in a shiny white of pain far and wide
But you kissed my eyes, my iris reconstructed
Now a kaleidoscope of twisting shapes of us in colour
I’ve always been living the fears..
But you caress me even when you aren’t here … you paint me …with your care that roars over mountains and seas
These verses will not be perfect
To my emancipated emotions, words become the nemesis
Emotions blown through trumpet thoughts
Emotions stringed tightly on violins
Emotions carved into drums ….
He is the conductor to this orchestra
My words are innocent kids that are unable to comprehend the splendor before them
My words will never be able to sail on the hurricane waves in my veins
My words will never be able to quench my thirst to speak,
To scream, to translate the way he brings me to ecstasy with ease,
I am captivated ….
I want to live in colour …
I want dreams with colour …
I want my breath to be coloured with the hue of his skin
I want him ….
I want colour …
I want him … and no other …..
Wednesday, 24 April 2013
Eclipse
We string the darkness into silk ebony threads upon our stares
We tease the taut twines of our hearts with our breathing
Playing violin music ....
That moment when your breath stares at mine
That moment when your breathing pores sing to the ear of my blindfolded skin
We let the moment linger for as long as we can remain composed creatures
We play the percussions of our veins
Drumming with every inhale
We are close
Yet too far
I lay on the sand
The beach revolves around us
As though we've become its moon
Illuminating the breath and depth of her jealous soul
we do nothing but lay
And let the presence of our spirits intertwine
For as long as we remain composed creatures
He comes closer
Hands enter the fabric of my skin
Moving slowly
He forms hand prints in the melting mudslide on my back
Molding my mute moans ...slow and sweet
As the sands I scratch, clasp my hands so gently I feel her warmth like honey on my tongue
And the water at the horizon watches for as long as it can remain a composed spectator of our world
I feel my thighs scream
But I render her silent as I muzzle her lips with the arch of my back
He places his nose between my breasts
Inhaling the moonshine that sparkles
Grazing his lips against the pastures of my neck that blossom "night glories"
I cannot see his eyes
But I feel them
Licking my lungs into a cold fountain of asphyxia
I cannot see his hands
But I feel them
I feel his pores like tentacles massaging my nerves into a symphony of silently moaning contortions
I cannot see his lips
But I feel them crawling on me with small feet
Inching in places that render me speechless
I feel them like ripples of mini tsunamis trapped in the placid jars of goose bumps
At last ...
There is no more composure
We become the eclipse
Causing the sea to climax leaving spring tides that stand like chandeliers that revolve around us in slow motion
When we ....kissed
All this ....from a single breath
All this ...from a single stare
We tease the taut twines of our hearts with our breathing
Playing violin music ....
That moment when your breath stares at mine
That moment when your breathing pores sing to the ear of my blindfolded skin
We let the moment linger for as long as we can remain composed creatures
We play the percussions of our veins
Drumming with every inhale
We are close
Yet too far
I lay on the sand
The beach revolves around us
As though we've become its moon
Illuminating the breath and depth of her jealous soul
we do nothing but lay
And let the presence of our spirits intertwine
For as long as we remain composed creatures
He comes closer
Hands enter the fabric of my skin
Moving slowly
He forms hand prints in the melting mudslide on my back
Molding my mute moans ...slow and sweet
As the sands I scratch, clasp my hands so gently I feel her warmth like honey on my tongue
And the water at the horizon watches for as long as it can remain a composed spectator of our world
I feel my thighs scream
But I render her silent as I muzzle her lips with the arch of my back
He places his nose between my breasts
Inhaling the moonshine that sparkles
Grazing his lips against the pastures of my neck that blossom "night glories"
I cannot see his eyes
But I feel them
Licking my lungs into a cold fountain of asphyxia
I cannot see his hands
But I feel them
I feel his pores like tentacles massaging my nerves into a symphony of silently moaning contortions
I cannot see his lips
But I feel them crawling on me with small feet
Inching in places that render me speechless
I feel them like ripples of mini tsunamis trapped in the placid jars of goose bumps
At last ...
There is no more composure
We become the eclipse
Causing the sea to climax leaving spring tides that stand like chandeliers that revolve around us in slow motion
When we ....kissed
All this ....from a single breath
All this ...from a single stare
Thursday, 18 April 2013
I'm not sure if this is a poem..
I've been yearning to write this poem
The pen is hungry
The pen is angry
Thirsty for shackled thoughts
Yearning to write about you
But I'm not allowed to
I'm not sure if this is a poem
I yearn to tell you the time I've spent thinking about you
But the right hand of my bravery is broken
The long hand of crying screams tick between the second of the last hug and the second that marked your first step when you left
I'm not sure if this is a poem
Metaphors swim in the acidic ocean of a strangled need to release
Happy similes dressed in frowns , exhaling the silence of depression
Poems are suppose to give release they say
But I'm not sure if this is a poem
I find myself stumbling into a darker retreat as I paint you with each faint stroke across these life lines on my page
The mind holds pages of memories
As each fade into daydreams daily
I've been yearning to write this poem
To find release
To do ....something at least
Wanting to write the pain
Or like a kid , paint it with my eyes closed
But in the presence of true thoughts ,ink becomes invisible ...
Wanting to write how much I've missed
The pen has inhaled all that I am forbidden to say
And even in time past and time to come
This poem will remain premature
Its beginning was not the beginning
And there will be no end
True thoughts shall remain caged
True thoughts yearn to become the lungs of this page
But now that true thoughts are ready to speak
Again my ink becomes invisible
The pen is hungry
The pen is angry
Thirsty for shackled thoughts
Yearning to write about you
But I'm not allowed to
I'm not sure if this is a poem
I yearn to tell you the time I've spent thinking about you
But the right hand of my bravery is broken
The long hand of crying screams tick between the second of the last hug and the second that marked your first step when you left
I'm not sure if this is a poem
Metaphors swim in the acidic ocean of a strangled need to release
Happy similes dressed in frowns , exhaling the silence of depression
Poems are suppose to give release they say
But I'm not sure if this is a poem
I find myself stumbling into a darker retreat as I paint you with each faint stroke across these life lines on my page
The mind holds pages of memories
As each fade into daydreams daily
I've been yearning to write this poem
To find release
To do ....something at least
Wanting to write the pain
Or like a kid , paint it with my eyes closed
But in the presence of true thoughts ,ink becomes invisible ...
Wanting to write how much I've missed
The pen has inhaled all that I am forbidden to say
And even in time past and time to come
This poem will remain premature
Its beginning was not the beginning
And there will be no end
True thoughts shall remain caged
True thoughts yearn to become the lungs of this page
But now that true thoughts are ready to speak
Again my ink becomes invisible
That time
That time ...
When beasts of the sahara
Roamed carefree upon the naïve souls that scented the pastures
Forgetting that which they walk upon is their mirror
Yet polishing their blindness with each step !
That time...
When the birds believed they were superior to the ants and worms they devoured
Forgetting that which they walk upon is their mirror
Yet polishing their blindness with each step
That time ...
When some of us speak or act without the permission of the conscience
And kill or feed the issuing flower of love
Forgetting that our actions are a reflection of us
Yet to ignore , is to polish our blindness with each step
That time
When we feel like love is at the point of no return
Like there will never be another sunrise
Like clouds will remain forever gray
And life is placed on pause
Like the rough currents will never change
And the heart shall see no harbour lights for direction and hope that the end of the pain is near
That time
When we feel like we've lost
When tigers fall short of capturing the prey
When rainfall falls short of filling the tank to its brim
When the moon is no where to be seen
Or the wind cannot be felt ...
But nothing ...is ever lost ...
What is true cannot be forgotten
What eats will be eaten ...
Life is an inevitable cycle of prose and poetry
There is no true end to the unpredictable story ...
When beasts of the sahara
Roamed carefree upon the naïve souls that scented the pastures
Forgetting that which they walk upon is their mirror
Yet polishing their blindness with each step !
That time...
When the birds believed they were superior to the ants and worms they devoured
Forgetting that which they walk upon is their mirror
Yet polishing their blindness with each step
That time ...
When some of us speak or act without the permission of the conscience
And kill or feed the issuing flower of love
Forgetting that our actions are a reflection of us
Yet to ignore , is to polish our blindness with each step
That time
When we feel like love is at the point of no return
Like there will never be another sunrise
Like clouds will remain forever gray
And life is placed on pause
Like the rough currents will never change
And the heart shall see no harbour lights for direction and hope that the end of the pain is near
That time
When we feel like we've lost
When tigers fall short of capturing the prey
When rainfall falls short of filling the tank to its brim
When the moon is no where to be seen
Or the wind cannot be felt ...
But nothing ...is ever lost ...
What is true cannot be forgotten
What eats will be eaten ...
Life is an inevitable cycle of prose and poetry
There is no true end to the unpredictable story ...
Monday, 15 April 2013
A copper ring
I met this harpoon of poetry
A flying fish in the figurative sea of my dreams
he versed his way into the ink of my pen ...
His ebony complexion was the wet paint of the night sky
His ebony complexion was the currency of laughter, like a serious joke
He evoked a funny kinda compulsion to saturate myself in the most disturbingly yet funny of ideas
He evoked me ... Like music
Wanting to "clique" my fingers to the lyrical persuasion cuz his lyrics to my soul is the beat in my feeling .... Like an anthem so I put my mental hands up to his greatness cuz
He evoked me ...
In funny yet ... Serious ways ....
He had me caught between two worlds
His stare grew ferns of thoughts on barren thirsty lands within
And suddenly when I lowered my stare before I reached his ....
I saw this ring
Not a gold ring
Not a silver ring but ..
But a ...a copper ring ...
I saw this odd looking. Structure circled around his finger and I inquired .....
"So um ...where did u get this "
And he gave me this funny yet serious story
That evoked me
Told me how he got this simple piece of wire and wrapped it around his finger ...cuz he was bored ....and he wore this copper ring for almost a year ...and ever since , it has never left him
And strange enough ... I was fascinated ...
That this copper wire rubbed back and forth against his presence , contained specs of his skin's nervousness , laughter , contemplations , hard work and his essence ...
I wanted this ring
Desired it like it bore a part of him , capsuled in this copper hour glass he constructed
Desired it like it smelled of his contractions as a pen laid between his hands as he wrote poems ...
Desired it like it held his daily frustrations , unspoken thoughts
Desired it like it was the basket that held the thoughts he wrote on invisible paper and threw into this copper basket ....when he felt they weren't good enough
I desired it ...and maybe I desire a part of him
To wring the soul of his forbidden thoughts into my soul and hopefully etch them into this copper ring
I yearned this part of him that no one had
I desired it more than his last name cuz no one knew about it and that's perfect cuz I'm selfish
This is my point
He evoked me ....
I took this ring ....as my mind flipped the pages back and forth examining the meaning of my actions
I took this ring ....
Saying I do to the spiritual connection it possessed
Saying I do to the funny thoughts it will rain
Saying I do
Saying I do , to being his poetic friend , his end to looking further , to permission granted for not having composure ...
Saying I do to the hues of his youthful eclipse of poetic bliss
Saying I do ...
Cuz he evoked me ...
And all it took for me to write this poem ....was a copper wired ring ... And somehow I find that seriously funny ....
A flying fish in the figurative sea of my dreams
he versed his way into the ink of my pen ...
His ebony complexion was the wet paint of the night sky
His ebony complexion was the currency of laughter, like a serious joke
He evoked a funny kinda compulsion to saturate myself in the most disturbingly yet funny of ideas
He evoked me ... Like music
Wanting to "clique" my fingers to the lyrical persuasion cuz his lyrics to my soul is the beat in my feeling .... Like an anthem so I put my mental hands up to his greatness cuz
He evoked me ...
In funny yet ... Serious ways ....
He had me caught between two worlds
His stare grew ferns of thoughts on barren thirsty lands within
And suddenly when I lowered my stare before I reached his ....
I saw this ring
Not a gold ring
Not a silver ring but ..
But a ...a copper ring ...
I saw this odd looking. Structure circled around his finger and I inquired .....
"So um ...where did u get this "
And he gave me this funny yet serious story
That evoked me
Told me how he got this simple piece of wire and wrapped it around his finger ...cuz he was bored ....and he wore this copper ring for almost a year ...and ever since , it has never left him
And strange enough ... I was fascinated ...
That this copper wire rubbed back and forth against his presence , contained specs of his skin's nervousness , laughter , contemplations , hard work and his essence ...
I wanted this ring
Desired it like it bore a part of him , capsuled in this copper hour glass he constructed
Desired it like it smelled of his contractions as a pen laid between his hands as he wrote poems ...
Desired it like it held his daily frustrations , unspoken thoughts
Desired it like it was the basket that held the thoughts he wrote on invisible paper and threw into this copper basket ....when he felt they weren't good enough
I desired it ...and maybe I desire a part of him
To wring the soul of his forbidden thoughts into my soul and hopefully etch them into this copper ring
I yearned this part of him that no one had
I desired it more than his last name cuz no one knew about it and that's perfect cuz I'm selfish
This is my point
He evoked me ....
I took this ring ....as my mind flipped the pages back and forth examining the meaning of my actions
I took this ring ....
Saying I do to the spiritual connection it possessed
Saying I do to the funny thoughts it will rain
Saying I do
Saying I do , to being his poetic friend , his end to looking further , to permission granted for not having composure ...
Saying I do to the hues of his youthful eclipse of poetic bliss
Saying I do ...
Cuz he evoked me ...
And all it took for me to write this poem ....was a copper wired ring ... And somehow I find that seriously funny ....
Friday, 12 April 2013
Highs and Lows
Taken we are by the waterfall of suspense
Drifting in the wind that coats the intimacy
We know not of the revelations to come
But an evolution it was
Scared thoughts shed their skin
Sensually dancing on the tongue of silent onomatopeias
Eyes that knew not the wonders before them
In divine amazement , they are washed in pure tears that stack like tiers of bewilderment
Spirits meshed and entwined soar high
Higher than the wind that stretched to swim between the lips of kissing leaves on tall trees
High
Higher than stars that screech supremacy as our stifled thoughts sit on their mute buttons
High
Higher that we've ever known
We blend like honey exhaling on caramel sighs
Oh how I feel ... Low
Low like the breath stuck between the subsoil of muffled moans...lost
Low like the fossils of doubts that dine at the dinner table of extinction when we r close
Low like the charcoal that mints the oil under rivers
Low
Lower than the finger nails of pitch forks that never plough or scratch the backs of soils deep enough
Lower than the point of the axis that penetrates the ocean floor of unspoken word
Lower than the notes on piano keys
We are highs and lows
Playing the high and low notes of ecstasy
we pen silent stares like poetry
etch memories like footnotes on the clipboards of our souls
Mating are our hearts birthing highs and lows of passionate kisses
breaths exchanged become scarlet toned mists
We are highs and lows
Of a love that's blissful and unending...unknown to this world
Drifting in the wind that coats the intimacy
We know not of the revelations to come
But an evolution it was
Scared thoughts shed their skin
Sensually dancing on the tongue of silent onomatopeias
Eyes that knew not the wonders before them
In divine amazement , they are washed in pure tears that stack like tiers of bewilderment
Spirits meshed and entwined soar high
Higher than the wind that stretched to swim between the lips of kissing leaves on tall trees
High
Higher than stars that screech supremacy as our stifled thoughts sit on their mute buttons
High
Higher that we've ever known
We blend like honey exhaling on caramel sighs
Oh how I feel ... Low
Low like the breath stuck between the subsoil of muffled moans...lost
Low like the fossils of doubts that dine at the dinner table of extinction when we r close
Low like the charcoal that mints the oil under rivers
Low
Lower than the finger nails of pitch forks that never plough or scratch the backs of soils deep enough
Lower than the point of the axis that penetrates the ocean floor of unspoken word
Lower than the notes on piano keys
We are highs and lows
Playing the high and low notes of ecstasy
we pen silent stares like poetry
etch memories like footnotes on the clipboards of our souls
Mating are our hearts birthing highs and lows of passionate kisses
breaths exchanged become scarlet toned mists
We are highs and lows
Of a love that's blissful and unending...unknown to this world
Hold on ...I'm not done yet !
Hold on ...I'm not done yet-bella
I wanna stutter when I spew my anger
Just so the bullets can form zig zag patterns as they pierce your epidermis
I wanna dribble my tears into your open wounds -callousness
I wanna take the fork I buried beneath my ladiness and swirl your lust like spaghetti between the prongs of my venom
Cause you are ...
An expulsion of shame
A gift wrapped pain
Something like used piece of gum replenished with the sweet hate of not knowing who you are or what you've become
You fight fate
You fight me
You think innocence is probably an episode of ken and barbie
And you make jokes
And you live in my world like a monument of hypocrisy
You arouse my anger so much that I wanna
Strangle you with my thoughts
I wanna have you like a pendulum
Swaying left to right
Swinging from death to life
And both are reluctant to claim you
And just when you let that tear of sympathy pilot its way to my numb state
I'll let you be
But
Hold on I'm not done yet
I wanna strap you down to a chair
With the broken mirrors of composure roped around your wrists
And I bet if my anger could dance for you
She'd probably dance to a song that speaks four languages of hate
A dialect only your conscience can translate
I bet if she danced for you
Your shame would have an instant erection
She'd tease your ball of tears until they are bright blue
She'd paint your eyes scarlet
A clone of the colour that taints her contorted veins
Don't be fooled this won't be a pleasurable sadistic ride ..
This won't be a last taste so you would remember what you're leaving behind
This
This is a ritual ..
As you lay strapped in thoughts of me
Soaked in the pollens of a disguised tulip
You would be paralyzed
And I'll leave you to simmer in the acidity of a borrowed pleasurable dissension into varying degrees of a chilled pain
And just before you're at 0 degrees Celsius
I'll thaw you with the whippings of my invisible tears
I wanna stutter when I spew my anger
Just so the bullets can form zig zag patterns as they pierce your epidermis
I wanna dribble my tears into your open wounds -callousness
I wanna take the fork I buried beneath my ladiness and swirl your lust like spaghetti between the prongs of my venom
Cause you are ...
An expulsion of shame
A gift wrapped pain
Something like used piece of gum replenished with the sweet hate of not knowing who you are or what you've become
You fight fate
You fight me
You think innocence is probably an episode of ken and barbie
And you make jokes
And you live in my world like a monument of hypocrisy
You arouse my anger so much that I wanna
Strangle you with my thoughts
I wanna have you like a pendulum
Swaying left to right
Swinging from death to life
And both are reluctant to claim you
And just when you let that tear of sympathy pilot its way to my numb state
I'll let you be
But
Hold on I'm not done yet
I wanna strap you down to a chair
With the broken mirrors of composure roped around your wrists
And I bet if my anger could dance for you
She'd probably dance to a song that speaks four languages of hate
A dialect only your conscience can translate
I bet if she danced for you
Your shame would have an instant erection
She'd tease your ball of tears until they are bright blue
She'd paint your eyes scarlet
A clone of the colour that taints her contorted veins
Don't be fooled this won't be a pleasurable sadistic ride ..
This won't be a last taste so you would remember what you're leaving behind
This
This is a ritual ..
As you lay strapped in thoughts of me
Soaked in the pollens of a disguised tulip
You would be paralyzed
And I'll leave you to simmer in the acidity of a borrowed pleasurable dissension into varying degrees of a chilled pain
And just before you're at 0 degrees Celsius
I'll thaw you with the whippings of my invisible tears
My rebound
I photocopy my feelings
You see I don't really miss you
I say I miss you when I really miss her
I say I love you when I mean her
The smiles you see In my "I love you's" are duplicates of what I felt for her
I sit with you at the dinner table
I take the pen to sign the cheques and I'm simply writing numbers
Actually that's just a literal expression transcribed on paper signifying how many times one heart beat thought about her instead of you
I really don't get why I'm doing this
And I honestly don't want to
I'm not gona blame this on the cliche "residual"
Cuz she said ....
And here I am again
Every time I stare at you
My faith plays hop scotch on broken memories
My pores are poets that spew rhythmic verses passionately into the mike of my heart and every beat echoes her faint caress , her strength
I'm sorry
But I am broken
My tune will never end
My train of thought will never change course
And hoarse is my voice every time I try to scream at my blood vessels to make them believe that I can love you
No I can't love you
No I can't teach you
All I can give you is a duplicate
Probably a duplicate of what another nigga is suppose to give to you
But my words are only wreaths I extend to the grave yards of her live ghosts
And My pain plays host to your vulnerability
you used an incorrect formula to solve your heart problems
You multiplied your fantasies with your dreams
Wrote your answers with the pen of hope and the answer you should have gotten was " believe that you deserve better than this facade"
But you miscalculated , instead your answer was " mr. Perfect" and like most kids the closest response to your ideal was option (d)settling for second best
I divided your legs and subtracted your essence adding a sweet nothingness you call love
While through the entire ride I
Yes I was lifeless
You thought I made love to you
But every deep stroke I was trying to find my way out of my bottomless grief
With every stroke I felt you expand and contract
Dialating around an instrument that wasn't thinking about you
You thought my dick was a compass
Thinking that as I navigated you to ecstasy
I would have stayed on the island of "we"
But you are a cast away
And my feelings only visit you once a week because her shores I can no longer find
With you I never reached a climax of pleasure
I only reached a climax of issues pounding in my head, the things I never said , my mistakes ,long picnics ,kissing , hugging , cuddling with her ...all this bliss , things I miss
Atoms of passions splitting in the teardrops of suppression
And I only cum ..cuz I could never figure out the answer
Never figure out why I left
Never figure out why she left
And for one single moment
I clasp my eyelids
And I pray to be forgiven of the sin
I pretend that you are her and I say
"I love you"
My darling
You are my beautiful rebound
Though I do not love you
You're this meaningless activity I use to keep me busy
You're that subject I took just so I can skult being at home to do the dishes
You're that moment when strangers walk into the room and I stare into my phone to pretend like I'm doing something important
You're that sneakers I wear just cuz my friends got one , and I wanna fit in
You're are my beautiful rebound
I wish you could taste my duplicate
And simply accept it for what it is ...
You see I don't really miss you
I say I miss you when I really miss her
I say I love you when I mean her
The smiles you see In my "I love you's" are duplicates of what I felt for her
I sit with you at the dinner table
I take the pen to sign the cheques and I'm simply writing numbers
Actually that's just a literal expression transcribed on paper signifying how many times one heart beat thought about her instead of you
I really don't get why I'm doing this
And I honestly don't want to
I'm not gona blame this on the cliche "residual"
Cuz she said ....
And here I am again
Every time I stare at you
My faith plays hop scotch on broken memories
My pores are poets that spew rhythmic verses passionately into the mike of my heart and every beat echoes her faint caress , her strength
I'm sorry
But I am broken
My tune will never end
My train of thought will never change course
And hoarse is my voice every time I try to scream at my blood vessels to make them believe that I can love you
No I can't love you
No I can't teach you
All I can give you is a duplicate
Probably a duplicate of what another nigga is suppose to give to you
But my words are only wreaths I extend to the grave yards of her live ghosts
And My pain plays host to your vulnerability
you used an incorrect formula to solve your heart problems
You multiplied your fantasies with your dreams
Wrote your answers with the pen of hope and the answer you should have gotten was " believe that you deserve better than this facade"
But you miscalculated , instead your answer was " mr. Perfect" and like most kids the closest response to your ideal was option (d)settling for second best
I divided your legs and subtracted your essence adding a sweet nothingness you call love
While through the entire ride I
Yes I was lifeless
You thought I made love to you
But every deep stroke I was trying to find my way out of my bottomless grief
With every stroke I felt you expand and contract
Dialating around an instrument that wasn't thinking about you
You thought my dick was a compass
Thinking that as I navigated you to ecstasy
I would have stayed on the island of "we"
But you are a cast away
And my feelings only visit you once a week because her shores I can no longer find
With you I never reached a climax of pleasure
I only reached a climax of issues pounding in my head, the things I never said , my mistakes ,long picnics ,kissing , hugging , cuddling with her ...all this bliss , things I miss
Atoms of passions splitting in the teardrops of suppression
And I only cum ..cuz I could never figure out the answer
Never figure out why I left
Never figure out why she left
And for one single moment
I clasp my eyelids
And I pray to be forgiven of the sin
I pretend that you are her and I say
"I love you"
My darling
You are my beautiful rebound
Though I do not love you
You're this meaningless activity I use to keep me busy
You're that subject I took just so I can skult being at home to do the dishes
You're that moment when strangers walk into the room and I stare into my phone to pretend like I'm doing something important
You're that sneakers I wear just cuz my friends got one , and I wanna fit in
You're are my beautiful rebound
I wish you could taste my duplicate
And simply accept it for what it is ...
Thursday, 21 March 2013
A Brave apple
This young, ripe, rosy fruit
Hung on the branch of false hopes
Longing to be stretched into the world of oranges
Longing for oranges
This foolish apple
Wept for days
Longing to be noticed
But oranges have many seeds
Many beliefs
Many options
Many paths none of which include a silly apple
So she sheds her value ...
Transforms into this green shell of emptiness among her wiser friends
Bloats herself with the water of naiveté
Such innocence
Until hopes can no longer bear the weight of her ambitions and she falls
Gravity watches but knots its hand with the laces of tough love
Knowing that her own bruises will one day be the mark of her wisdom
And she falls
Poor apple
She stumbles on the floor
At the feet of the orange tree
Only to find below a sea of half eaten decaying Apples and rotten angry spirits , sisters like her self
she wondered
What could they possibly do wrong to be granted such a fate
But this ambitious apple was determined
She , had courage
She conducted a post mortem on the fallen to be perfect for the king
And found to her dismay that all the apples loved .... And sacrificed without thinking
The poor little apple felt deserted
She knew her death was sealed.
So she cried a little more
Knowing the king would not love her in return
so she decided to sacrifice , differently
She cried into two chambers of her heart
Implanted the everlasting sun of her devotion
removed half the chamber
And buried it in the soul of the orange tree
For years on end and tales on end
The orange tree grew leaves painted with the green hue of her cheeks
The orange tree exhaled her name for ever silently
The juice of the orange was no longer sweet
Her sacrifice made a difference
Orange trees were looked at differently
and maybe her sisters to come will taste the sour intentions the minute he peels the skin of his words in the name of bewilderment
Hung on the branch of false hopes
Longing to be stretched into the world of oranges
Longing for oranges
This foolish apple
Wept for days
Longing to be noticed
But oranges have many seeds
Many beliefs
Many options
Many paths none of which include a silly apple
So she sheds her value ...
Transforms into this green shell of emptiness among her wiser friends
Bloats herself with the water of naiveté
Such innocence
Until hopes can no longer bear the weight of her ambitions and she falls
Gravity watches but knots its hand with the laces of tough love
Knowing that her own bruises will one day be the mark of her wisdom
And she falls
Poor apple
She stumbles on the floor
At the feet of the orange tree
Only to find below a sea of half eaten decaying Apples and rotten angry spirits , sisters like her self
she wondered
What could they possibly do wrong to be granted such a fate
But this ambitious apple was determined
She , had courage
She conducted a post mortem on the fallen to be perfect for the king
And found to her dismay that all the apples loved .... And sacrificed without thinking
The poor little apple felt deserted
She knew her death was sealed.
So she cried a little more
Knowing the king would not love her in return
so she decided to sacrifice , differently
She cried into two chambers of her heart
Implanted the everlasting sun of her devotion
removed half the chamber
And buried it in the soul of the orange tree
For years on end and tales on end
The orange tree grew leaves painted with the green hue of her cheeks
The orange tree exhaled her name for ever silently
The juice of the orange was no longer sweet
Her sacrifice made a difference
Orange trees were looked at differently
and maybe her sisters to come will taste the sour intentions the minute he peels the skin of his words in the name of bewilderment
Thursday, 14 March 2013
Keyboards
At work and I hear these keyboards clicking
Sounds of buttons being pressed and punched to stamp effectiveness that can't be written with words
And I'm here sitting in my chair
Longing to be punched
Longing for power outage so I can lick my lips
And arch my back in readiness for the impossible
Longing to be ridden on my keyboard
And I'm squeezing the punching bag of emotions rising
Touching these keypads and arousing the mind
Thoughts want action instead of being typed discreetly on microsoft word
Words soften me
Thoughts blow cold air on warm places
And memories heighten the action
With a supervisor sitting on the left and a neighbouring gossiper on the right
The adrenaline drinks the fright
Hiding my thoughts , I minimize microsoft word moving ever so swiftly to write these words to momentarily appease these thoughts
But the buttons continue to yank the regins of my swallowed moans
And fingers around me are unaware of what's happening
I listen and ignore the bodily responses
Punching onto the keyboard of my mind
Making grammatical errors. Cuz the word sex has become the punctuation of every thought
And the punching sounds continues
Taunting me
Sketching fantasies of fingers playing these piano keys as an erectness has me tippy -toeing off the floor
Silently I struggle
And I hope the clicking sound is loud enough to muffle the earthquake when it cums ....
Sounds of buttons being pressed and punched to stamp effectiveness that can't be written with words
And I'm here sitting in my chair
Longing to be punched
Longing for power outage so I can lick my lips
And arch my back in readiness for the impossible
Longing to be ridden on my keyboard
And I'm squeezing the punching bag of emotions rising
Touching these keypads and arousing the mind
Thoughts want action instead of being typed discreetly on microsoft word
Words soften me
Thoughts blow cold air on warm places
And memories heighten the action
With a supervisor sitting on the left and a neighbouring gossiper on the right
The adrenaline drinks the fright
Hiding my thoughts , I minimize microsoft word moving ever so swiftly to write these words to momentarily appease these thoughts
But the buttons continue to yank the regins of my swallowed moans
And fingers around me are unaware of what's happening
I listen and ignore the bodily responses
Punching onto the keyboard of my mind
Making grammatical errors. Cuz the word sex has become the punctuation of every thought
And the punching sounds continues
Taunting me
Sketching fantasies of fingers playing these piano keys as an erectness has me tippy -toeing off the floor
Silently I struggle
And I hope the clicking sound is loud enough to muffle the earthquake when it cums ....
The Blues
I traverse the road of those memories
Shadows of you and me dancing along the rough terrain of
pain and hate
Shadows that fade along the landscape of what could have
been
Snaking its way on the stream of faithful heart songs
We find ourselves riding tame smiles
Ignoring the glare of the hidden
That which was left undone..
I feel sad
I remember the passions of our rum
Fermenting with speed in the vats of deep tongue kisses
Distilled by the hands we never understood
Hands as delicate as the back bone of new born stars
I feel the blues seeping in
I remember looking
deep and far into your eyes
Looking past the bushes
Parting the leaves of tears
Snapping the branches of past experiences
Sitting in the middle of the field
Allowing the angels of my spirit to lie on the warmth of
those floors
Sacrificing their wings
Just to get abit closer
I remember those days …
I feel sad
Remembering the feel of your soul mapped in your hands
Painted with the nakedness of your fears and imprinting it
on my skin
I remember those hands …
Strong yet feeble
Firm yet tender
A hand that stirred the whirlpool of unforgotten
And I feel sad
The blues are here, even on this faithful day
The day I took to bathe in the guitar and violin strings of
new beginnings
And I feel blue
Like the baby that has no more tears ….
Whaling and bawling is no longer enough to extinguish what
he feels
So his bones become steel …
And he breathes the steam of his combustion
I feel blue
And everything I see is blue
And everything I feel is you
And everything I touch becomes a reflection of us
And the blue seeps in
And “you” seep in
There is no “I realize we were meant to be but can’t” – kind
of ending
Or I’m feeling sad today but tomorrow will be better
This is a chronicle ….
Feeling sad isn’t always a momentary something
some days we’re all too caught up to feel it
And with tears we pay the dividends
Sadness is the moon of my world
My writings are neap tides, spring tides …
My tears? Tidal wave
This is a chronicle... Testifying that I …
Remain a captive moon goddess
Wednesday, 13 March 2013
A Rapper's pick-up poem
Pardon me miss,
But I just need to say that you are ohh so sexy!
I'm sure guys approach you all the time, Regurgitating those Shakespearean lines.
Their lips outlined by the pencil of temporary promises of being good to you...
But babe , let me tell you,
It doesn't get real-er than me!
Cause you see I don't have a car, house or job,
I'm a plain piece of paper with potential so build me from scratch.
Mould my substance and let my mind be an eruption of devotion to you
Cause your smile just makes me wanna serve you.
My Nefertiri.
Can I please you?
I saw you from across the room and I wondered...
Has any guy ever kissed the knees of your silent pleas to be hugged when you're flustered?
Has any guy ever kitted your smiles like a Hawaiian chain and wore it proudly around his neck?
Has any guy ever painted your thoughts on the canvas of his heart?
Protected your ideas like a gladiator as his comforting lips served as the mediator to your restless skin?
I mean, show me the man that has honoured your words.
I'll show you I can do better.
I'll eat your words whilst I eat you...I mean your mind.
From the convex cave of your independent eyes, I saw the contours of your mind...
She is a queen that has never been loved correctly.
You see , I know you've been stung by many bees.
I'm not here to rush.
I'm here to remove those needles, that are still left in you,
Soothe those swollen arteries with my blissful concern that is unending.
Believe me honey, my intentions are good.
You've baked my heart golden brown in the oven of your blushes.
Like jam, I want to spread your legs...
I mean spread your mind on the bread of my soul,
Allowing your hands to measure the length and breath of my love until it can't anymore.
Excuse my reference to bread but...
I just wanna eat you
Consume you
Breed you
Breathe you
Breed your mind as I watch you grow pregnant with the trust and honour I've inseminated in the womb of your heart
You make the similes of my heart smile:
Like birds don't sing the blues
And heart isn't like ice
And my love is not as blind as a bat.
In fact, this love is cinematic,
Visually unable to be compressed in small ways to show my affections for you.
Cause...
You make the similes of my heart smile
You've knotted the ribbons of having you firmly around my limbs.
I wanna breathe you...
your fears, insecurities, giggles and frowns.
I wanna trade in my oxygen for your essence so that I can inhale you 24/7.
And again I say...
All I wanna do is eat you.
I'm not designated to high-roller positions
But my love flows and ebbs like a tidal wave,
A river that is pure and flavoured with the oil of "everlasting."
Baby I know you've met a lot of men but I assure you them niggas is plastic.
I'm the contrast to the bullshit.
My love for you can only be categorised as a classic.
Niggas be bringing cloned versions of my intentions just to get your booty
And baby girl I assure you,
I would honour your booty,
Make love to your booty,
Smack that botaaaayyyyyyy!
Um, I mean I will respect the booty.
Sigh...
Baby girl, I know I've got rough edges but I promise you...
All I wanna do is eat you.
But I just need to say that you are ohh so sexy!
I'm sure guys approach you all the time, Regurgitating those Shakespearean lines.
Their lips outlined by the pencil of temporary promises of being good to you...
But babe , let me tell you,
It doesn't get real-er than me!
Cause you see I don't have a car, house or job,
I'm a plain piece of paper with potential so build me from scratch.
Mould my substance and let my mind be an eruption of devotion to you
Cause your smile just makes me wanna serve you.
My Nefertiri.
Can I please you?
I saw you from across the room and I wondered...
Has any guy ever kissed the knees of your silent pleas to be hugged when you're flustered?
Has any guy ever kitted your smiles like a Hawaiian chain and wore it proudly around his neck?
Has any guy ever painted your thoughts on the canvas of his heart?
Protected your ideas like a gladiator as his comforting lips served as the mediator to your restless skin?
I mean, show me the man that has honoured your words.
I'll show you I can do better.
I'll eat your words whilst I eat you...I mean your mind.
From the convex cave of your independent eyes, I saw the contours of your mind...
She is a queen that has never been loved correctly.
You see , I know you've been stung by many bees.
I'm not here to rush.
I'm here to remove those needles, that are still left in you,
Soothe those swollen arteries with my blissful concern that is unending.
Believe me honey, my intentions are good.
You've baked my heart golden brown in the oven of your blushes.
Like jam, I want to spread your legs...
I mean spread your mind on the bread of my soul,
Allowing your hands to measure the length and breath of my love until it can't anymore.
Excuse my reference to bread but...
I just wanna eat you
Consume you
Breed you
Breathe you
Breed your mind as I watch you grow pregnant with the trust and honour I've inseminated in the womb of your heart
You make the similes of my heart smile:
Like birds don't sing the blues
And heart isn't like ice
And my love is not as blind as a bat.
In fact, this love is cinematic,
Visually unable to be compressed in small ways to show my affections for you.
Cause...
You make the similes of my heart smile
You've knotted the ribbons of having you firmly around my limbs.
I wanna breathe you...
your fears, insecurities, giggles and frowns.
I wanna trade in my oxygen for your essence so that I can inhale you 24/7.
And again I say...
All I wanna do is eat you.
I'm not designated to high-roller positions
But my love flows and ebbs like a tidal wave,
A river that is pure and flavoured with the oil of "everlasting."
Baby I know you've met a lot of men but I assure you them niggas is plastic.
I'm the contrast to the bullshit.
My love for you can only be categorised as a classic.
Niggas be bringing cloned versions of my intentions just to get your booty
And baby girl I assure you,
I would honour your booty,
Make love to your booty,
Smack that botaaaayyyyyyy!
Um, I mean I will respect the booty.
Sigh...
Baby girl, I know I've got rough edges but I promise you...
All I wanna do is eat you.
Monday, 4 March 2013
One Last time
If just for respect of that union knotted by the
hands of virgin clouds
If just for the beauty that spread so gently on the
sturdy hands of intimacy
For the last day of spring
Let us meet
Let us clasp the hands of our hearts to that
familiar beat
Just before the day looks to the east
Let our eyes dine at the table of what’s to be
But never will
At least for one time
At least for one last kiss
You and I are the 8th wonder of the
world
And to the land of everlasting paradise
We are its first
For one last time
Rise with me
Melt my skin
Quench your suppressed thirst
With all of me
Waltz with my spirit in our world, where only we
exist
When lost in those stares
Eyes that say
more than we can ever begin to utter or fathom
If for one last time
Touch me with untamed truth
Make me nervous with familiar scents
If only for once
Lend me a breath of life…again
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