Tag Archives: thoughts

Plodding

You’ll never know what you can bear until you fight with one.

Though I wasn’t bred that way I take a slice to know the light is on.

Been decked by my cards so I shuffle around the boat.

Drowning in the blue that the red mist lead me to.

Clutching pearls that swine gave me.

Scorched earth screaming green as new shoots.

Golden boots give tours of their shoe collections.

You’re only good as your answer to the last question.

The fable of favour requires faith to become a fact

I fight with enlightened beasts, it kills me where I’m at

Blind mice testifying of finding big cheeses releases of hope of planting my flag on the moon.

Everything I should have done has been festooned.

Everyone I should have been, marooned by who am I now.

I look up to look up though I’m down.

What now?

 

 

 

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Lament of a Psalmist

lament

You can feel intimate with a militant. 

They seem so real, yet when you touch them, you feel silicone. 

But God said! So their thus said is legitimate. 

Ignorant innocents are impudent kites

Hold on or be hung by string theory

Holy rollers become weed smokers.

Unnoticed, Moses became the Joker

Deleting pixels for their picture a bat symbol, not magnum opus

Hopeful loyalists practice upper lip stiffness as wisdom

Won’t take a knee or comb the heir to the family business.

Live in a dragons den whispering their knowledge of the litmus.

This divine monopoly’s a comedy of vapours and groupthink.

Where the audience is clowned for pointing out it stinks.

Rub sticks and create fire or feel the sword like molar of holy rollers

Code masters unmask the mode of most high and create players to sacrifice.

Who am I?

A born sinner, a dinner, a lost soul to a soul winner that won’t vary the bait.

Space invaders, snipers, rangers marshal the momentum of the naysayer.

Demon days filled with gorillas, gargoyles and goblins are a Lord’s Prayer.

Whose frames do you wear? Do you die or dare? Be a black life, matter?

I see red tape masters speak tongues in monotones like heaven’s got their name on the deed.

With all of these gang signs and storms seen I’m falling through my flaws.

My moorings are unsure and I’m dying to breathe, searching for answers.

If the real God we can’t see, is it because of us or gospel gangsters?

 

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1434

Some days, the world closes in around me.

For minutes at a time, the earth shakes as though a thousand dormant volcanoes have erupted in unison.

I chase after my breaths like a 5-year-old with bubbles on a breezy afternoon.

I am deaf to the beat of my heart.

The sun orbits the earth before I come around to the understanding of my plight.

I am at war with my shadow.

Afraid of fading from view, I like stringing sentences like tennis rackets.

Mantras slip through my fingers like perfect ex’s.

Questioning supposed recklessness I break fast.

Peace is a stranger that refuses to converse.

I silence the alarm despite being raised by a nurse.

Always an episode instead of a series.

The script seems more powerful every time.

Maybe this is what I deserve.

Payback for the other side of me.

Maybe it’s the design for me

Anxiety.

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7/30 “Monster’s Ball”

Curveball gallery.
Many see the bat signal.
Who’s catching who out?

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Filed under 30 day challenge, Random Poetics

Clockwatching

clock-watching

They say time is a healer but…

Time has no hands, no feet, and no voice to speak.

With no needs to meet,

You and I create time

Time doesn’t have feelings

It doesn’t have love or hate to deal with

It can’t discern the fantasist from the realist.

It can’t read your reactions

Nor does it have a face to face the consequences

You and I create time

You and I decide between dark and light

You and I decide when we’re ready to walk into the deep

We weep until the drought is fierce

We survive on the fruits of our faith in the reflections we find

You and I create time

Will time test and tell or do you and I indulge in the canonisation of self-preservation

Creating tall tales with foundations for generations

Do we tell many times so that time can tell.

If time talked, we could have a conversation

If time healed, maybe I’d have regular vaccinations because shoulda, woulda, coulda, never turns time’s tables.

Now if time can be bought, how do you loot it, can it be taken?

They say there’s time for everything, but all I see is man’s arrangement.

Like learning English as a foreign language, the context is a maze in

the fact that we are but choices of creation

If eternity is really time, a paradise that we’re awaiting

What materials are you building with if life is simply time that we’re creating?

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5 day Poetry Challenge Day 5 – The Uniqueness of Being Unique

Written circa November 2006, this is the last post for the challenge. It feels good to look back at where I’ve come from as a writer. Thank you for reading,

Every word spoken on this earth is a ritual

Unless it’s inspired by the divine at the time, it cannot be defined as truly individual

Uniqueness is the relative of beauty desired by all

If true love is unconditional

Are the partakers truly unique individuals?

Experience is definitions fly on the wall in the documentaries of our lives

But we find uniqueness essence cannot be repeated

Humans are fruit smoothies – mixture of common features

We try to emphasise unique things, a lot of our plus points

From our personal couture to our cultural standpoints

Pointing skywards

Common concepts are the paternal subtexts that drive us

Culture is our car

Exquisitely designed without a need for eyes

For unique defines not I but who we are

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5 day poetry challenge Day 3 – The Dawn

White sands fell between them

The morning tide kissed their foreheads

New palms bowed and curtsey in turn

Clouds yawned for the first time as the sky opened its eyes

The wind smiled like a new-born after its first feed

Time had walked the shortest distance from their wrist to their hands

Steady as the drizzle of summer rain, they breathed

Whispers tiptoed from their lips into the oxygen

Like hydrogen they ignited as understanding embraced

Good Morning,

Good morning to love said the flame

Finding their soul frequency retinas roared

Detonated heart beats battling soon soothed to an echo

Atlas had become compass in a blink

Yet this was Eden and it would be human to think

So they admired

The apple of their eye was a fruit of their spirit

They’d given lives to acquire the rights to the orchard

Merely breathing was deemed eating of the moment and

Building a city of roses required appetite so apple blossom became staple diet

Welcome,

Welcome to life said the Middle Tree

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