Tag Archives: future

FROM

Image result for journey

Snap chat masking me

What is Masculinity?

His story is mine.

Wheels of the divine?

Magnolia tears screeching

Preaching can’t reach in

Chat rooms and emails

Soul ties and habits

Are they devils or detail?

Masculinity

On the ropes and off the rails

All is vanity

All I’ve got is me

Hands low chin tucked backing up.

Trying to give a

Swing for upper crust

Walk on to the uppercut

Dying to give a

Mourning a mauling

Stabbing at stepping forward

Falling without love.

Ballads and parables

Man of cool to manacles

Just a wailing wall

 

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Dusted

leaving home

I was a Lego brick on heaven’s tables with ambitions of being Babel

It would be gravy if I trained well.

I wore the King James label like Air Jordans as an enabler to tap the mike

Cutting shapes for the sake of grand designs lit the eyes.

This mind was primed to freehand more than stencil.

The palette was filled with many colours yet I could only use one

Chew the word and bite your tongue, a babbling baby is free speech.

Slap you with psalms 1 -1 take the p when they reach

They besmirch and beseech the only souls that matter are those of their feet.

Watch how you breathe for Bruce Banner can’t stand spanners in the manor.

What’s love for the poets if you put slammers in the slammer.

Play hangman with every hang up, kill a so-called joker if they stand up

Raise your voice or raise the standard, one day I put my hands up

See I’d chewed on the green grass of home like it was magnanimous manna

How can you be two-faced if you don’t know you’ve got a mask on?

Why fight when I was rapt in the moment that my modem connected.

I didn’t know the download had been infected.

Exceptions and rules wisdom and fools the best fell afoul of while many played chicken.

To challenge was to play hopscotch in a minefield.

Jet fuel from a pulpit could melt your steel if you didn’t have the minerals

They built you so they can kill you.

They built you so they can kill, you.

I’d heed them and repent for I’m a heathen, seedling of evil if I believed them.

I counted years as days, days as hours, hours as minutes and in 15 I’d lost 30

In his eyes were fire and from his mouth swords but this revelation was not written by John.

The shoes I walked in were gone. Was heaven under new management?

Thought I was strapped in! Madness!

Stunned, I snapped into a coma, knowing I could explode at any moment.

Burnt by the cold and homeless, I should have known this was coming.

As the truth created fractions, my history was flagged to be deleted.

I learned that secrets were common knowledge and life hacking wasn’t to make things easier

So I vowed I wouldn’t give them flowers when they’ve kicked the bucket just to keep up appearances.

I’m no longer dumbfounded by the conceited for the mask has fallen.

They put karma’s face on the coin so I dare them to call it.

 

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Filed under Random Poetics

Sailing

FreeGreatPicture.com-1203-sailing-high-definition-material

The ship has sailed, but the sea lingers

Her fingers still fondle my timbers

The spine kindles like tinder.

Blocks shading the so-called rub of the green, my heart beats turn to cinders

When I look into the future and remember I kiss my present with the question.

Why does the sea linger?

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Filed under Just Living, Relationships

Drifter

Watching a Father losing his son in front of his eyes.

Seeing the screams barricade his heart in the name of strength

Like the last drop of water rung from a spun load

A tear fell

Traffic stopped, my eyes gazed sky wards

Watching my Father like a worn watch

Praying for time, wondering what will happen when

It happens

There’s a first time for everything they say

He hugs me now with more strength than he ever disciplined me with

We are old friends that once were foes

It’ll soon be time for me to complete the circle

I hope we can hula hoop, if but for a moment

Though some stone him, his shoes I have grown in

Shunning the shade of shalom with my mother’s tongue

I am my Father’s son,

Enlightened I wonder when that which will be has come

Will I be bound or free

Torn between his life and my existence

Conflicted.

A little boy lost

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Filed under Just Living

Ivory Blues

holding on

There are moments when you wonder
What’s going on with me?
When it seems that the world is moving in a direction and though movement and change don’t phase you, how you feel about it does.
Where your reflections become memories of happiness never created.
When the idea of building anew seems better than improving what you have.
Why have a tattoo when you can use biro and pencil.
When the music that once made you euphoric now stiffens you in purgatorial placidity.
If what is wrong with me, is me, what can I do?
Do my eyes fail?
Is the clearest figment of my vision that I’m shortsighted?
What would I throw away to gain?
Is this the me that got away or am I living to tell tales?
Is my colour of love beyond the pale?
If desire is a palindrome, do I really love my reflection on love?
If love is really selfless do I lose image to gain an identity?
Apprehensively, two halves don’t make a whole but there are holes in where it starts and ends with me.
If love is a learning contract that allows you to amend terms.
Why do many burn with many degrees?
If purpose, humility, desire are the PhD, is love lost if “I” is missing?
Isn’t love the ultimate hunter?
There are times when we respond I’d love to.
IS that selfless or selfish?
Can I love live among a barrel of shellfish?
If love is so strong, is it our resistance to it that leaves us dented?
There are times when your heart is crossing a bridge suspended between where you are and where you’re meant to be.
Every step you take pensively towards this unconditional until you’re un-conditioned
To be one conditioned is a choice that I struggle with.
That’s why I’m sharing me, with you.

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