Gravity

Give in to gravity's embrace
Crash and explode on his impact
Let him swallow you in his arms
Believe in his promise to catch you
Dont desire wings when you discover that he welcomes you better than any lover has ever tried to.
Fall beneath his purpose and meet him there, waiting.
Don't steel yourself, keep your eyes open so you won't miss a thing.
Dont regret him as a final resort.
Dont regret thinking about him knowing his very danger.
He is like a longed for lover who knows just what he wants and has it for the taking.
Think back to the time he threw you to the sea, in nothing but your shorts and an irresistible feeling of satisfaction that's since long gone, remember how the waves held you on their tail and played with your being with their gentle violence.
This is he once more, he will comply to your desperate and irrational need.
He will lay a bed of roses for your beautiful landing and soak in your blood and bits so no one else will have a piece of you after giving yourself without return.

Death As a Concept

When death comes, may we come back to collect each of our bones,

gently lay them together and set them alight during an

intimate ceremony only witnessed by each of

of our former selves.

Unshrouded and bare-faced.

And as they burn, may we remember to wail without cease

and with great release so that each of whom of ourselves

we once disposed to make room for others may stand up

and forgive us.

May the dancing flames exude a warmth of great comfort such that

there is not a lived moment we would wish to live differently.

May the crackling sound of the burning bones inspire a song of triumph

for making end days that spared us the shame of looking back at an adversity of a life.

May we find our way back to this much dreaded valley,

crawling with dry bare, bones that bewilder us every time we care to pay a visit.

As they burn and blow as infinite ashes

that will glow and keep the universe alight may we resurrect

as black roses on whatever soils we land on

and hopefully, find a peace we never experienced as bodily beings.

River Beings

See them gesture in dance as weary souls
in a water flow rhythm and enchanting beauty.

Once a moon lit the surface of their water,
a mirror of sheen black with streaks of silver
and the night sky lived in a luminous joy.

In their misty translucency, they hoard, beneath,
world minerals, rubies, diamonds and pearls.
Keeping a watery heaven.

The river runs in the melody of their names;
Chimes, chimes and chimes.

The Magic Children

Children bathed in glitter, laughter; the human good,

with bare feet that pounced and drummed to raise the dust from its ground.

The cheer of the wind so free and the happiness of an untainted sunlight.

Between the rapture of the earth meeting the day, they floated,

eyes shut in complete exuberance, tongues gagging in uncontrollable laughter,

paying no mind the bruises on their elbows and knees,

their reddened flea bites and empty bellies.

The cracked wand drops to break and the magic, abruptly, dies.

At once they turn into beautiful, colourful butterflies

that scatter atop and leave me empty skies.

You're one to stay.

I can, helplessly, be a storm and, without any possible self-restraint, 

wreck you apart but you are one to cup me whole in your hands, 

wait out my unwarranted anguish and remind me of your inexhaustible love.

You're one to wander, painstakingly, through my forest 

seeking to save me from the solitude I tend to subject myself to,

bringing along pockets filled with smiles and melodies 

to enjoy on our way back.

I'm one to spend long periods looking hard in the mirror
but barely making out the person you see in me.
I carry on trusting whatever unprovoked spell you're under
to hold you long enough for me to finally believe and trust in my own magic.
That I am loveable and enough.

I could think of a million reasons for you to leave, 

many more of why I do not deserve you. 

For many or few reasons only known to yourself, 

you are one to stay.



Image: Pinterest https://za.pinterest.com/explore/painting-people/

It had to be you...

It had to be you,

Over joyful and hopeless tears.

It had to be you,

Over a myriad of secrets and shames,

Over constant fears and uncertainties.

It had to be you,

Over continuous forevers,

Endlessly and effortlessly.

It had to be you,

Among countless faces and beating hearts.

It had to be you

Along wild dreams to tame and violent chances to ride.

It had to be you,
Under glaring suns and watchful moons,
It had to be you,

Over worlds to know and times to travel.

It had to be you,

Over and over,

In a million blessed dreams,

It is you, always will be, always must be. You.

I have a man living in my heart

I have a man living in my heart. He loves it there.

Though he'd found no welcoming rug at the door

or been offered a seat and something to drink

I like to watch him joyfully saunter around the infinite

seeming space with a child-like wonderment of "all this is mine?"

possessing his face.

I warmly enjoy his appreciative movements

in and around this once hollow gallery,

carefully admiring the walls for what they used to be.

Bare structures to which portraits once readily clung as memories formerly enjoyed.

Not merely to adorn but much to make them look best and not so lonely.

Not once afraid of what he may find;

Stories I'm yet to let him know.

Secrets told, secrets kept.

Loved more for those remembered

Loved nonetheless for those forgotten.

"You are perfection, my love."

He reminds me.

I have a man living in my heart.

He seems to love it here and that's all the peace I need.

"The Silence in Separation"

Since my last (and only) break-up, a bit over four years ago, I would desist from whatever paths that would possibly trail to any romantic correlation. This would include severing any extended communication with an ‘admirer’ after a night of forbidden fun. 

Hence, my friends would come to stamp me as “emotionally unavailable” in their attempts to understand my disinterest in relationship prospects.

In actuality, I dreaded having to share emotions with/for anyone as I, in this regard, am abundant and unselfish and that being the power you do not want to be very trusting with (Capricorns, hands up).

A little over eight months ago I was formally introduced to a charming stranger who would, although involved at the time, become my whole world (in a matter of days, I say).

Now, I am not anyone to voluntarily become the much resented ‘third wheel’ to a couple, however, as cliché as these things turn out, the heart did the most thinking. I would find that my resistance would fail me as every day he seemed to thrill me differently and I was imminently discovering bits of myself in him: silly-hearted, broken and hopelessly in love.

It would take a month for his then relationship to amicably end (I swear I had nothing to do with it). On the time leading up to their inevitable break-up I realised that my excitement towards being his new uncontested lover was slowly deflating. This came after numerous forced self-confrontations centering on whether, after all these years, was I truly ready to commit to someone (being that or the high way)? Was he honestly as into this or could he be busking on some high level infatuation with me? Is this even safe?

I finally gave in to the chance when he proposed our first date. Days with him were nothing short of blissful and I reveled in knowing that when apart, he longed for me as much as I did  for him, if not more. I recalled the final line from the last text my ex sent me when we broke up, “…I hope the next one treats you better than I ever could”. If I’d love him again for anything it would be his charitable hopes for me.

Finally, day dreaming was a lot dearer trait and less mystifying as he would, unrelentingly, take up the dreamer role while I held back not to seem silly, chuckling internally. 

These ambitions would be painted along the back drop of a future together with the frequent reminder that life would be that much unimaginable without the other. 

I had found a love I could let loose around: he made me fall in love with the idea of love with him and only him. 

The one person I would let stare at every bit of my body I wasn’t particularly fond of (the corns on my toes >.<). I felt complete and enough, there could never be a flaw so blinding of my true self, who he madly loved back.

The fact that we had mutual friends would make it that much interesting, whether it came to petty arguments or just plain fun, it was always better with the bunch.

 Along with every new love, behold, numerous certain realization that occasionally raise the question of whether sticking around really is worth it. As in the words by Elise (Insidious, Chapter 3): “Love is just delayed pain…They’ll leave you anyway”. For a less devastating reason than hers, obviously, of losing her soulmate to a depression propelled suicide, mine was that the one person I vowed to love was slowly unbecoming in what I had hoped him to be.

Feeling failed, I would resist doing anything to reverse this. If anything, the idea of reaching out for a resolution struck hardest at my pride but for ‘unworldly reasons (known only to him and I), I forced myself to also realize that it was only the very pride that I had to lose and nothing more valuable. To also realize that should we have a chance further than this, It weighs half on me to make it work as much as I’d like for it to and to only hope that this decision will be a reward to the two of us in the future. 

Today (sometime back in March), on my second day of being “separated” (whatever that means) I am content in knowing that for one, I could love thoroughly and whole-heartedly and whatever the odds may be, I am/was with the best man.

I Loved a Sea Man

I'm standing at your shores, your waters taste my toes and I wait for a welcome in.
I have came to hand you the last of my world; all its disaster and glory.
 I wait, excused of all guilt and panic.
 Your waves won't still, I think I've lost your heart. Your winds whisper a chill, my skin hears it first.
My fists unclench and most of my fear subsides and certainty rests on my head.
 I crouch to drown our memories, they ripple through the deep.
 Im standing on your shores again, the moon followed me here this time.
 I've came to hand back our stories- this laundry of sheets stained with shared secrets, hopeless romance and a cracked vasse of our dreams .
My arms are numb from all the weight.
You still refuse to look at me.
I need my world back; with all its kingdoms of disarray associations and disasterous joys, its vallies rolling with daffodils of consequential encounters that excited me in their time and worth.
I'm standing at your shores forgotten, my ankles drip of our sudden past.
The scene is in strange calmness.
 I vow to my need to never come back.


 Image by Raymond Seed

A Night in June: The One-Night Stand Guy

I lay awake in his arms,

naked under the threads of the night,

scribbling a future with my one winged imagination.

I stared lovingly at his shut eyes.

Studied the corners of his lips; the crack of their skin.

The smell of life in his breath.

The distant flickering light of love he kept from everyone else.

The devil who kissed me with his eyes wide open;

A glare so sinister

as our tongues wrestled exploring the treasure in each other's mouths,

joining our breaths together-our deepest secrets and shames.

A computer screen lit and reflected silhouettes that made love on the walls.

The fire-filled palms that bathed my whole body inside a forbidden joy

and soothed it with the nectar that oozed from the tip of his tongue,

i danced, spluttering and splattering until I stood clean as sin.

Within those hours the dry grounds of my heart cracked

and gave way to a pink rose that grew

each time he squeezed my hand or pressed his chest with mine.

This new and strange love collided with his unintended cool; i was just one of his lot.

Had I Been The One To

Had I been the one to

I would embrace your soul and 

have it befriend my own.

Had I been the one to

I would wipe your scars, 

count them and kiss them,

teach you how to cry with a hoping heart.

Given your heart I would patch it every how,

hunt down a star and have it light you up so good,

scattering the shadows I have also lived with.

Embellish your soul with the fragments

 of my once brokenness and say "it's OK".

I dream through your eyes when

you're staring deeply into mine:

I could tell you all the stories I live in

and how happily they always end,

had I been the one to.

Picture: https://lonelywallflower.wordpress.com/

South Africa Diana Ferrus: "I've come to take you home" Tribute to Sara...

I Want To Be Alive

I want to be alive:

 To feel the gloom of gathered clouds

 and the joy of a collective breeze.

To walk with shadows and live in their sorrow.

To be a song to a lonesome sparrow.

I want to be alive;

 To be one in dance with the spirits of the world.

To bewitch time with the intricate beauty of my mind

and live with time and time with me.

I want to be alive;

 To befriend peril and hold him with a song,

 to find bravery in the absence of the day

 and in the presence of man.

To seduce death in return for a dance

 in eternal sunshine.

I want to be alive in all that I am;

 fully in my freedom, hopes and truth.

Picture

-electro.blogspot.com

Man Alight

.A reflection of the story of Ernesto Alfabeto beaten and set alight in the 2008 streak of xenophobia in South Africa.

Winter shed the last of it's morning fog

 and made way for spring's zealous rays.

The streets are a trembling silence.

Mist nests on a morning forgotten by the warmth

 of the sun or the song of a bird.

There's an echo of an ugly cry piercing through

 violent chants and a man remembers home.

The dawning dark bares what yesterday abandoned,

 the night winds wouldn't blow;

  the scent of burnt blood and the site

   of a charred body.

The street lies unaware of the gore on it's back.

The aroma of maize meal porridge ushers in the day,

 life is going on.

Hate is an unappeasable beast- man is it's raging owner.

The reading of his latest written offering, New Testament. Jericho Brown poetry reading at Furious Flower

Blackbird

She lives in the color of her wings.

Sings a broken song only dead men

 and fragile souls dance to.

She dares only nightfall and never

 day light.

A misfortune, shade of sorrow.

Your moment to shine couldn't have

 came at any better chance.

Preen your heavy wings and take

 your soul for a flight into the sun

 for it's endless light belongs also to those

 forgotten as you.

Let your eyes feast outside your shadow

 companion and onto life's landscapes.

From Me to Myself

From this time today, the day the air touched your moist skin first, I loved

you.

Your sharp, unbearably beautiful screams, your first cry, sliced through

the hot  and humid air sparing short echoes that awoke our life.

Before you and I came to be I prayed for us both and when we did I held

 your hand and vowed to walk you through life.

I showed you a hill to which you could fix your eyes and have all your wishes

 given.

Together we dragged our sack of troubles to a cross where it was

most needed in its mass and from then we learned never to worry about tomorrow.

I held your hand and kept you still when fear came snarling and

barking, forcing you to flee. 

Together we shot down the vultures above you

that belittled and felt not your significance.

We ordered to the deep oceans the mountains that stood between us

and our dreams, we smiled as we watched them sink into the deep

blue letting the sun melt our impossibilities to possibilities.

While standing at the crossroads of life I was the inner voice reminding

 you to follow the drumming of your heart.

We helped each other ambush and tame the most fierce of dreams and

rode on them to a brighter forever.

 Together we held the sword of

faith and dissected through hopelessness and carved out the best of odds.

We found an endless ribbon of red, right then we knew unmeasured

love was a scarce gift, the greatest of loves. Courage grew as wings on our backs and

soared us through dark, thick clouds.

Through the highways we came to we picked crops of wisdom that we

found and filled our pockets knowing we'd need them for all life's journeys.

With you I voyage on seas of negativity and ride the wildest storms. 

No one is as proud of you as I am. I love you. 

Happy birthday.

My Ancestors' Dream

I stand as my ancestors dream,

four limbed and crowned with rubies of enlightenment and diamonds of individual tone.

I stand bathed in their tears and sweat and lotioned in their beauty.

I am their endless prayers mumbled and some wailed to Someone behind a moon

radiating the twinkles in their eyes,

unanswered in their lifetime.

I am born of a freedom swarmed by swallows slicing the air with their edged wings.

I am words to songs conceived by illiterate minds and submissive hearts,

 to men and women whose electrifying voices survived through generations

to finally give my life a song to sing.

To those who have witnessed the earth in it's virgin youth and fed on it's purity,

the sun in it's young delight and tamed it's playful beams.

Those who ploughed and planted well wishes of wealth and good health in the ever rich soil

with scarred memories as hands for the welfare

of the remnant of their existance in a time of freedom.

The dreams that will never meet and shake hands with their dreamers.

I am wings for them to soar beyond the only skies they ever knew.

I am their hope and truth and though they are forever silenced I am their every word.

I couldn't go to sleep without a bit of her. This poem is originally titled Tarkovsky (The Second Stop Is Jupiter). Patti Smith The Boy The Beast and The Butterfly Poetry Project Marathon .