Category Archives: POETIC WORKS

All poetry styles.

If I told you

If I told you about the sun hiding behind those dense clouds

Would you listen to the birds

No judgement obscuring your heart echoed all kindess reverberating sans sound?

If I told you I’m hopeful your frown would disappear once those beatific rays raise a trumpet of graciousness from the maelstrom without the heartbeat of sound?

No hyperbole would I wish on your demeanour

No drama I wish to demand to demand

Upon you, the courageous.

My loves

My nature -condensates

A lady of the lake I’m bound by multiple men burned my ambitious stakes.

Causing this reality to vaporise

No slumber can awake.

I rise

I rise without the tidal waves of mayan traditions

Perhaps I forsook

I live on a continent my own maker allowed me to sew piece by piece

Grains of sand did my ancestors drown making moulds of bodies with clay.

I wish you to know my character.

I wish you to know my elements like demeter-

a mother never begets her daughter.

Never left to the scriptures of men

Untold

Untaunted

Untainted

Neither ink forsaken

Neither word twisted by those history writers who forsake them.

their integrity .

My nature is conceived

Nor pre ordained by these seasonal flakes

These words are my own.

My love !

Don’t desert all we have accumulated of late.

Deity

A smudge, a mark on those dissident souls who dared enrage the olypiums with a cry for mercy.

Crimes captured in , mud clay, paint , words, thoughts , emotions – indulged passions strewn over Bacchus shrine.

A brief Collison

The Thunder bolts,

The snow blizzards,

The rain

bows, illuminating deities with human mannerisms scowling stares

A Compelling spectacle – a free fall for all denied access to an Olympian banquet

Persephone lingers loftily draped in a seed sewn solemn shawl

This sabbatical reunion reveals her true fabric fertile & willing to share.

Soiled sapian of sand doomed to a prom thesis saloon for the forgotten , the abandoned

a gumboot dance off -The patron muse of Genocide –

Our namesakes never forgotten.

Latin ized, hubri sized, hibridized, sacrificed, sodomized.

Sacrificial slaughterhouse our ancestors offered up our mothers, sons and daughters

Faith a wake for piles upon piles of ignorance a holocaust of corpses cremated on the pyres of unknown sires

Faith adrift the bells and whistles promised to those lovers lost to the after life

Her Grace.

partly concealed

partly revealed

The dichotomy of lace.

The fabric of Daisy

Daisy wake up

Trends need not dictate this an essential need

Shake off slumbers veil

Success is never found in a blind fools dream

Daisy wake up

Or walk down that outdated well trodden path –

adorned with familiar perilous pain

an old haunt languishing in rags of ruin

Impart a funfair of heartache its sole profit -all yours to gain.

Never to find the seeds of hope

Never to nurture the growth of a place to call home

Never to venture into pastures only future horizons can show

Daisy wake up

Watch the ceiling of creativity dissolve

Watch the truth of your words stagnate in a river polluted by moments spent

On outdated memories

over bloated corpses floating upwards willing you to give them a second glance.

Daisy wake up

Are you willing to drown against the current of change

Are you willing to obscure your voice to clouds of doubt

whitewash all your words as a some garment crafted but in vain

I am

I am the girl who wears her heart on her sleeve.
Wonders if my life  purpose is to laugh and tease.

I hear the hair raising scream
I see the  barbed wire , a body electrocuted   two feet away from my mortal skin

I want to avert my eyes – It never happened , pretend all is okay.
I am the girl who wears her heart on her sleeve.

I pretend to be helpless
I feel I repeatedly sin. Stuck in a mind that can’t  learn from mistakes.
I worry the world is passing me by, time doesnt care if I can’t leave the past to drift off out of peripheral vision.

I cry because I am to blame for feeling insignificant.
I am the girl who wears her heart on her sleeve.

I understand my insight is a double edged sword
I say I have courage yet honestly I’m  not sure how much.
I dream to travel away from the houses visited each slumber night. Subconscious give me solitide.
I try to be funny, charismatic and loyal.
I hope the people I hold dear to me won’t  leave me
Though I  suspect they will.
I am the girl who wears her heart on her sleeve.

Garden Fascinator

Write to be something I’m not feeling.

Not nothing

A sense I’ve lost details planning how to plot.

Stand mid-sentence

tongue ties all thoughts

Need a referendum to figure what to prioritize first.

These are my words

They grow like weeds amongst the Garden fascinators.

Smoke break

Every

Every time I write down words,

Ending in a half sentence with no meaning like this one.

Eventually the reader will realise I’m taking the Mick.

Every single word on this page

Each one is absolutely pointless.

Egg me on, I dare you

Especially as I’m clearly hard to ignore because you’re still reading this.

Elements are as tangible as these words transpired with indefinable clarity.

Ergo I must now go

Evening awaits , I anticipate clear skies

Early morning we’ll need to say our goodbyes

Evidently we all have lives to live. Thanks for reading this load of sh**.

Mumms the word

I’ve tried to epitomise my mom-in a few words. No easy feat to do.

Mom

a la mode
Bang on-trend

a Panache for transforming a lifeless neck scarf into an haute couture piece -an eye for detail that makes you a formidable fashionista Godsend.

Finesse in all you do: from baking bananas loaf’s salad Nicoise or cauliflower cheese.

Woe, the day a chef attempts a bake-off with you for he’d lose his hat, all his stars and wail, mamma Mia what a mistake ah I make a. I must have caught some disease.

Self-sufficient -you can lift your bed on your own, fix your dryer, paint your home, fix the boiler. Your tenaciousness growls especially when your body dares groan: please take it slow!

Talented at reinvigorating my moods with that eccentric, warped wit.

An example: the time you thought it would be fun to pay for me to get my entire face threaded. You laughed at my pain.
I love our giggles-the side-splitting snorts are hilarious to watch and hear. It takes me back to our flare nostrils days. Who could make each other laugh first?

Your loyalty towards me astounds me, your unwavering love for me confounds me, your forgiveness impels me,

Life gives us many hard knocks -your heart nor face betrays your past pain. It reveals your altruistic complexion. A reflection of your heart. When you give you to do so freely without seeking to gain.

I’m in awe of your spiritual journey. You think I’m not remotely interested in your opinions & sentiment. Your faith is truly remarkable- a tangible contrast to your ethereal temperament.

Remember how you tell me to straighten my crown, the world is in the palm of my hand?

Remember numbers do not define a person’s character, beauty or ability to achieve greatness. I see the talent and potential within you. You should/could become an interior decorator. No age or number can dictate your dreams, hopes, aspirations and goals. The skies the limit.

Happy Birthday, mom.
I love you xxxx

Melody of those in the Same boat

My cow bells are a little bit off par
My serenade seemingly won’t separate the stars

They’re dying
Earth bound

Trees won’t surround my natural state of being.

Everything I feel
My inner sight.

I’m meant to be singing a stream of consciousness of my inner plight
To gloat I’m on another planet.

If only I knew how to consistently cope

In this moment
In this dimension
I might have a bit of hope.

A full fleshed 3 D character would awash with the flostam
Starting from the Knee deep creeping up to reveal my fragile throat.

I’m you, man.
You are me, men and women.

We’re all floating in the same boat.

Different directions
In water we still get soaked.

A place we try to fathom
No .
stake as our own.

If not to deem ours authentically
Then atleast to titillate to titivate
With a decorum of sensuality

Melody of the same boat

My cow bells are a little bit off par

My serenade seemingly won’t separate the stars

They’re dying

Earth bound

Trees won’t surround my natural state of being.

Everything I feel

My inner sight.

I’m meant to be singing a stream of consciousness of my inner plight

To gloat I’m on another planet.

If only I knew how to consistently cope

In this moment

In this dimension
I might have a bit of hope.

A full fleshed 3 D character would awash with the flostam

Starting from the Knee deep creeping up to reveal my fragile throat.

I’m you, man.

You are me, men and women.

We’re all floating in the same boat

Different directions

In water we still get soaked.

A place we try to fathom

No .

stake as our own

If not to deem ours authentically

Then atleast to titillate to titivate

With a decorum of sensuality

Not a suicide kid

Time stands still

Waiting for my child

To pick her up from her school.

Locked out

I’m no fool

Schools not meant to be cool.

Just another institution

Similar to a prison.

My constitution was made to rebel

For a cause

Less

Waiting around on top.

Never thought I’d glimpse a shadow of my former self -over the hill.

Curse these minutes.

Frozen into a state of blissful ignorance.

Wrapped up into a stationary kit.

Sigh

Sudden bowel movements

I feel ill.

Bad humour lost to a desolate sky.

Simmer into another ghetto outfit

Sparse Sunshine shimmer flecks

Until my skin unravels into motion.

For this moment

I’m not a suicide kid

Instead, I’m knocked out

By a dead dong ringer

Them there eyes

Catch sight of her eyes.

How they glimmer!

* inspired by the school run & national poetry day  & Life

 I’m genuinely happy to be alive. Not because life is perfect today but because I’m happy, humble and honest.

  • Write to recover

  • Create to recover

  • Communicate to recover

  • Connect to recover

  • Collaborate to recover.