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
Wednesday, 24 April 2013
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 ...
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