Frankfurt 2: Hey Jude, Judas

The photo below was taken in Hauptwache, Frankfurt, click here if you’d like to see a few more from my trip. Or scroll down and read on

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I know nothing of falling in love.

That tripping up, or a bit of a jigsaw.

Maniacally exclaiming life reshaping.

I stumbled over desperation until my chest demanded rest for its people.

Now salty for a taste of freedom

I grieve with ten thousand reasons for why we’re here.

What’s real talk to convenience?

Stores of obedience host underground shows.

Soon there’ll be no difference between breathing and blows.

Avalanches will flow.

Demons with god intentions only ever change lanes

Truth is loyal and destructive, it devastates and remains.

Where the sun sets the moon gains.

We all want the light without pain

We all want to know the 4-2-5 yet Judas gets in the way.

What are you a discipline of?

What’s your price today?

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Frankfurt 1: Reflecting

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Take a panorama of paradise

Divide it into 36 perfect 10ths

Is every pixel filled with the same shade?

Are black spots dangerous?

Would you break up if you found one?

What’s your flavour of danger and damnation?

Are heaven and hell real? Do cycles turn a corner?

Are you a moving star?

Are you right stationary?

Gallant souls and wisdom court before the marriage.

Is defeat an ex in waiting?

Can we feel your nakedness through your layers?

Does your drive need to pull over?

You’ve been playing musical chairs with your best moves.

What will it take for you to stand up?

Scrape the barrel or the sky, the deep and wide or the high.

There’s a choice to be made. Black like lemonade, or lack to the fade.

Who will you be?

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A. D. L. D

We arrive as a flash point, late on my time line. 

I’m tongue-tied by your outline. 

Like tour bus based buffets

The taste of your lane is scenic 

Could Morpheus love the Phoenix 

Are angels ever fiendish? 

Do butterflies ever get butterflies? 
Seven syllables make you and I 

Our cloudy memory lanes are filled with melodies of the 6

We are Barry and Iris on a Badu tip 

Is it common sense that I want you? 

Shhhh 
You are the voice of napalm singing Psalms 

Every note that leaves you is a lip bomb

Would I adore you be a call to arms? 
You know this is  more than a shuffle of the cards. 

Pepper and Tony Stark 

You’re queen of the odd shaped drum that gives my life a base 

I go Gaga for your poker face 

Is this bad romance? 
I know that 

The 18 steps of our slow dance lack symmetry 

Settling for smaller planets is withering 
You fall for what’s within 

So straight up, 

Your open skies are the needle for my turn table 

Every record you spin opens a book of revelation 
Though multiplexes mapped contact, this is free smoke. 

A road to the after glow found in the clouds 

Running touch lines since our first down 

Will two lasting embraces strike this match? 

Call this time’s greatest catch. 

Are we? 

A delayed story? 
 

 

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Boy in the corner

Trade your suit and glasses for sackcloth and ashes

Remain pure to your past self, unmasked and passive

Stay sophomoric and tragic, take slap shots, and don’t panic!

Affray? We’ll wreak havoc, you’ll be a mascot for the moribund

Stay savvy, trade your muses and nuance for fame and famine

Pyramid schemes for your dreams, is it fair?, oh you’ll manage

Imagine what we fashion when we see through your glasses.

Tape your education through conversation then charge you for classes

We’ll rape your souls in the marriage bed and claim it never happened.

So what will it be, your roots or our fruits?

The trenches or the barracks?

Do you believe anything will stick if we hold the field of carrots?

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The End

I’m in love with….I could never finish the sentence
My regrets roused rancorous desires for regression
I was colour blind as the red flags flapped,
I felt so fly, the fact that I didn’t, feels impressive.
My ego was bedded by this boo as the crowd roared us on.
Economical with the truth about either of us being The One
We phoned in that blue light to the brain as though we were seeing
the sun.
The great depression was 3 rings away from speaking up.
Green was never my shade, yet blue was our colour.
We called a spade a spade while digging crates and graves for each other
To tolerate through desperation seemed a better vow than to love each other.
Desecrating the legacies of Father, Father and Mother.
Who we fancied remained a secret that not even mirrors could fathom.
If we get on, let’s see where it goes was the best chestnut, adage
We thought we had our onions in order so we ignored the sage.
This was a fools buffet, eat now and pay later
Needed more time to date but….
We were less diligent than a fan of James Yancey
Pilot of Aaliyah’s plane on an incredible flight of fancy
If you do best at a certain altitude, why lower the standards?
If our mutual anchor had matched us, the candle position was shifting.
If walking through hell was our job, we seemed fire resistant.
We did what was expected and found some return on the investment.
Blurring the burning yearning for affection with friendship.
The words house and mate were, for the most part, unconnected.
 The moment we took the breath away, I became we, with love in a sentence.
Now if this is a confession to someone who cannot give penance.
What are we to do with the fragments of our reflections?
We end.

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BGM

Little Girl boxing a box of trials
Life tessellating
Future soul spinning records and tales
Wagging tongues tales dogging you
Walls won’t wail like untuned ivory
When tinkled ebony stands alone
Abseiling from the stars
With memories of Mardi Gras
Moribund artisans tobogganing through torpor will want your fuel
You better stand while you bus so they can have a seat
Sew stars seeds of street lamps
Grow in the light
You’re Black, whole
Hot tar cannot be touched
This Black Girl magic is just.

Pure.

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Finding Fruit

I stopped by your poems

Hugged them line by line

Our heartbeats fell as silken petals

This long lost love made Courtney Pine

Silence eavesdropped on mystic kisses

Eager vibrations rekindled the affair

Your swirling prose meditative.

My unchained cadences cohesive

Perceptive curtains arrange our winds though

Love isn’t lost if the heart’s still beating

Is this mine or our evocative secret?

A final kiss on our achievements?

The silence still eavesdrops

The longing lusts evermore.

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