Perched

There is always a moment to think of moments we lost
Behold me, looking pensive, ever counting the cost;
And while we are laughed to scorn we lack the tears to mourn
The dignity we lost to their lofty witticisms and criticisms
I am perched

And while we looked out the window to be influenced on,
The cobwebs scattered: we forgot what really mattered
And, day by day, we greyed; and with our confluence gone
Reservations exposed, silence where the drum pattered.
I am perched.

On a cliff of brokenness, questions hovering like a curse,
Answers elusive like the back of the moon, hope dissolved,
All a waste. Emotions gape like nestlings un-nursed,
Gaping for issues that seem vanished yet lie shallow, unresolved.
I am perched.

From death I learnt that life is temporal
That I will last but a short while, limited
To the ceiling of my span; soon comes my last gasp.
Death, who will elude me ‘til the end's no longer inhibited,
Scared me not at all, even when life seemed out o grasp.

From life I learnt that moments come once
And, yet memories may linger longer than my lifetime measured,
Nostalgia is the sand by which every sore soul is rendered inactive,
Immobile, near lifeless. Slowly I discard all the memories treasured
Soon comes my last gasp. Let me take every next breath as incentive.

But life I know better than death, being, myself, not yet deceased;
And, knowing life, and liberty, and love (bondage and disaster) also
Without doubt I love life and since the end’s inhibited still
I will live it high note and not be middling in falsetto or in alto.
Soon comes my last gasp, but before then my life will over-spill.

Death is grand in our life since it is eventual and inexcusable,
But what say you about love, the key ingredient of our existence



....................I’m yet to finish this one

Roundabout

The sun is so far from the moon
And yet they team up for an eclipse
Every now and then. May not be soon
But eventually i shall counter this relapse.

There are no formulae for natural elements,
There are no tangible measurements for sentiments.
Ill-composed words are not improved by eloquence
This lonesomeness seems to have definite permanence.

Prospects of catering for another heart
Send whiffs of the freshest of air.
Angels fan around to fan my withered heart
So I should believe the time is near

Sometimes I dash to think am cornered,
Still in the belly of the beast to be spit
Out when it is time to regain my honour
You are what I will never have if I decide to quit

We may not be as close as hips
And fingertips but we once were.
We used to meet up at the lips,
Oh the love we’d both swear.

Pause From Deluded Pilgrimage

If my weakness overpowers me,
How much less powerful am I
How disorderly are my priorities, how blind
To suffer my soul deprivation acting against objectivity.
How do i counter the doom so imminent:
None’s but my own foe, a man confused

If my lies obscure the truth
Then was there ever a grain of truth in me
Where will this self-delusion lead me?
What does this hypocrisy profit me; what?
So that I’m willing to lay aside substance,
Preferring weightlessness to valour and honour?

Do I need solitary confinement
So I may reflect and reconsider my purpose?
Do I need to be among those of the assembly
To ascertain my preservation from the evil that befalls
They that stray towards obliquity? Is that me?
Is my image this atrocious, or the mirror is corrupt?

Is my faith foolishness?
Is my hope a stingless harp, Which s it?
Do i profess music that i don't even play? Not even that!
Do i preach the gospel of lemons to apples?
Whose mouth is my mouth? Shouldn’t it speak my mind?
I would that i were chastened for pure inter-coordination

Light

A certain degree has, to me, presented itself -
A light, in definable circumstances, a calming tune –
Of beauty; almost concealed by hideous lintels,
Through tinted windows of deserted walls. It looms
defying midget privileges of the environs and status quo,
Denying complacency, paralysation caused by self-pity.
The light peruses my heart, my heart beats in metaphors
And beauty pierces my heart and simplifies complexities.

I am welcomed to a world of clarity, of quality.
(Though juvenescence is gone refreshment isn’t)
I am a virgin once more with a tame rationality.
My spirit is healed from the wounds of derision
I retain soul and peace of mind – I shed a tear,
Take a deep breath and float in the glory of recovery
With the view of Heaven’s mirror to see, clear.
Oh behold you hopeless man: Isn’t life so lovely!

Reassurance pats my shoulder, sanctifies me favourably
To light the hearth and burn my fears to total oblivion.
Oh, the thought that the light is here to abide with me permanently!
To me has been dealt peace, love patience, joy, dominion:
All things indispensable, things I shant refuse
For they indeed are essential, moreover they mean to elevate
one who for once could have died or become recluse.
Oh love, (pacifier): you came to liberate and to alleviate

I would bolt, best foot forward, in batty haste and thrift
Much so I constantly tripped myself and snuffed out my lamp,
Forgetting that the race is not given to the swift
But to the endurer: some speed is only mother to cramps,
Ankle-twists and twitched hamstrings; but knowing
Is growing: the software necessary for perfect self-preservation,
To shrug off the throes of depression to sail on the boat, rowing
And rowing. I see my destination: no qualms, no reservation.

So whether i am in a tempest or am slapped by a gentle breeze;
Whether the house is afire or the roof caves in and the walls fissure;
Even if my abode is swallowed by a flood, myself inside, no keys;
Or the floor be a doorway to an abyss, or the earth grow incisors
And canines of a horrible new-fangled beast: whether such misfortune
Should befall me whereby I am rendered flaccid and paralysed
In every which way, I shall be resigned only to turn and importune
That light to clarify, examine, prod for answers and analyze

Then shall be recorded footage of glorious triumph, darkness vanquished,
Celebratory wine-bottles popped to bask in the rays of this light.
This light (unlike my lamps that snuffed out) forever has darkness vanished
And faces beaming under peaceful legislation in the Year of Delight.
Men once of depleted confidence stand with me in single elevation
Receive ye the beauty, receive ye the light with grin-reception.
Arise, you who were once crestfallen. Indeed this is time for celebration
For the light has descended, expelling the known darkness of deception

Seeking Compliance

They used to say noodles for needles,
Now they speak in more coded riddles
Show not a bit of remorse on the bridle
Pelt the slouching horse when idle.

Now my heart is a sunburnt hide,
Inviting on the outlook, indifferent inside,
But I yearn yet more than you to love
I yearn to confer, express and laugh

Some got pies, and all that glitters
I got the litter of bitter fritters.
Do not feel sorry for me: feel slowly
Though no one was ever laid so lowly.

Touch with reviving hope my deadened cells
Orate eloquently your verses to my deafened ears.
Regenerate life; beat my heart to rhythm again
Resuscitate me so I can breathe into freedom again.

Citizenry on this island stirs no patriotism
Send me a map of directions from this paroxysm.
Remind me of laughter; send me comical notes as well.
I mean to laugh so much my face should swell.

Touch me from a distance as you are yet so near
Wrap me in that buoyancy that repels all forms of fear.
Wipe out the gripe and grout, stretch my lay muscles.
If you should bring anything, bring happiness in many parcels

Leaving to Return

Leaving is an art
It is the execution of deep-seated intentions.
It is near involuntary,
But should be felt like the disparity and gap of indention.

Leaving is like thieving.
Do it with stealth, do it with a single mind;
Not like breath when heaving:
Seemingly forced. Leave like one stolen by the wind.

Say goodbye with a note.
A paragraph is a flood, give them a drop:
Just a phrase or a quote.
Leave them a slender, slippery string to grope.

Leave before dawn.
Inhibition may visit before you leave.
Toads may come to spawn,
And tell you leaving will only bereave.

How doves coo in your ears
And convince you against your set will.
How doves’ eyes twinkle with tears
When going is the only source of your tranquil.

Orion

Where is your smile Magdalene,
The Orion of the Southern World?
Autumn is here and the leaves divorce the trees.
All our deeds have done is get us quarantined,
And your smiles beam for us, sweet girl.
After these winds come the cold and the freeze.

So where is that beautiful smile?
Though the unbearable circumstances came
Still you stood strong and versatile
Condemned to contempt and shame,
Yet ever so highly you held the torch
Yea, always you countered every blotch.

I would love for you to smile again
In spite of the apprehension, anger and pain.
Forgive and forget, don’t relive and regret.
You’ve got much to realize, and more to beget.
I love you too much to leave you so emotionally wrinkled,
So smile once more and show us the teeth that once twinkled.

Flower

She is a flower.
Thick mascara covers
Her perianth. Is it not strange
That she, like the stock exchange,
Has men shouting over her
(They condescend to unrefined overtures);
That she has been paid in most currencies
For services and occurrences
She would pay not to display.
But money is a habit she cannot restrain.

She is a flower
Her body is her power,
Her mind is her weakness
Her bane is her cheapness.
Her conscience is at a steep tilt
She knows one day she will wilt.
She puts on expensive petals
For she is paid in paper, not shiny metals
She can charm a lion pulling its whiskers
And can divert a pilgrim with demure whispers.

She is a flower
She makes the brave to cower.
She enters the inn and every head crumbles,
Enters the temple and even the priest stumbles.
She does it in a manner ineffable.
She is the incarnate of Jezebel.
Many have lost their virtue by her acquaintance,
More their wealth, for she is high maintenance.
She is a desert rose by the oasis of licentious men.
She is the litmus test for pretentious men.

She is a flower
Attracting insects, charging by the hour.
Stand outside the range of her manipulative eye
Or be webbed in the entanglement of her calculative mind.
She has copulated much but mothered none

Bewitched

Why have your looks befuddled me so,
That head goes up and down like seesaw?
I am not known to be belligerent,
But I plead for you like one defends religion.
How dark are our deeds in our quarters!
How our once pious hearts are in tatters!

Darkness is our day in utter discreetness.
What is this about destructive sweetness?
I’m fooled by how my heart fits round my sleeve
So much so on you my enemy is where I heave.
We giggle; fasten the cringles of our sinking ship
While my conscience says, like stinking sheep

So are you and I, my love, before the Almighty.
It says death is the only thing more likely
Than life. I wish I wasn’t human enough to yield
To you yet you lie there like the truth revealed.
But how do I fall in the manner that I do?
Is there a levelheaded moment in your presence?

You and me lying out of wedlock in our paddock;
You, the object of my affection and my transgression,
The object of my recessions and regressions;
The expository of my carnality, my preoccupation,
You, my denunciation, you, my renunciation,
With you I’ve done what the tongue wants for enunciation.

A loving man with a touching smile

A loving man with a touching smile.
A drenching job so the lights don’t go off.
Umpteen cigarettes a day to allay the stress.
Slowly passing days, long and meaningless.
A marriage for children’s sake: a king dethroned.
A house, roof over the head, not a home.

His life has avoided the street and taken the alley.
The cap doesn’t fit but it’s the only hat around
Every road is either a mountain or a valley.
Ageing is a process of progress, a life bound
By tedious re-visitations cyclically to unbearable places,
By continuous shuffling on mediocre paths with ordinary faces.

The same song in the same keys by the same voices.
A life of having to choose when there are no choices.
How many cigars have been burnt on his lips?
How many roads has he walked on into dips?
So he thinks of taking his own life to end it all,
Only now his life is no longer his, he can’t make the call.

He is among the living dead, the be-dimmed, the hopeless hoppers.
Outside he passes for an eagle, in reality he’s a grasshopper.
A loving man with a touching smile, an empty smile;
A loving man who has forgotten how to love himself.
The thought of suicide hovers over his now idle head while
He superbly paints a masterpiece that says all is well.

So one day he finally takes his own life
The life that was no longer his: his wife
Is appalled, neighbours rumour it on street corners.
It indeed tastes like the bitterest of bile.
Perplexity reigns, unrequited questions among the mourners.
They mourn the loving man with a touching smile.

Prayer For The Living

Colour our notions with the colours of spring
Write your song so the deaf hear and the dumb sing
Though we start this day with a requiem, honour us with love.
Let your oases flow over the hurts of our past fluff.

May the cornfields wheeze the breeze of ease and release,
May we receive relief from the cliff of misconceived beliefs.
Condone our malapropisms and misappropriations
Wrap our lips in eurhythmic euphemisms, sweet syncopations

Repaint our façades by enriching our gloomy spirits.
Walk us into joy, though our breast be streaked like pipits.
Touch our bark-covered hearts: quench us in sanguinity.
Give us to forgiving, benevolence, nobleness and magnanimity

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My Strongest Weakness

There’s a stain on the ceiling,
Like contour lines of a huge mountain
There’s a hole in the wall, revealing
The path to that forlorn fountain,
With dry leaves that would surely rustle
Under one's feet, leaves from the bustle-
Shaped stem of the Sycamore tree

There’s a brain on the weaning
A mind going through mental puberty,
A soul somehow heeding demeaning
Remarks that pin down hopes of liberty
And narrow the likelihood of calm,
Yet the mind grows somewhat nourished
In spite of all queasiness and qualm,
Yes, that mind determines to flourish

And as we look at the stain over us –
Her head on my chest – she speaks of a journey
(Constantly tugging the blankets that cover us),
And she mumbles something about an attorney
And the papers, the perplexity, the predicament,
The quandary; oh, the obliquity of the words
Proceeding from her mouth: a deceptive testament
And I devote myself, a wary fool that I am

Will she clump me like the dry leaves
And love the crumbling sound and cackle
Or stain me like the ceiling? My heart grieves
Yet I still turn the keys of her despotic shackles;
My soul believes yet this religion gleams fickle.
My hands labour to a vague promise of wages,
I afford a dry and wry smile as tears trickle
Will she clump me and ignore how my soul rages

Am i a victim of my pasture, dying from salvation?
Or just an ill-advised investor, lured and coaxed
Do I philander with the bait to swallow my destruction?
Am I the....





I'm still to finish this poem

4) She of Mesmerising Dispensation

Canto 1
I have preached piety while in the quagmire
Of transgression and trespass
I have held a matchstick behind my back
And blatantly claimed I held a candle.
I have made child with a strange grey-eyed girl
And dearly paid for it
I have said some terrible lies in my life
But I’ve never lied about my feelings for you.

I have sampled your breasts in test-drive mode
I have kissed your lips ‘til they cracked,
Tickled your bloom ‘til you all quaked
Have clasped onto your heart with tyre-grip
Mixed with balmy lubrication
But I have never tantalizingly made you
Whimper for joy.
You are mine but you are not guaranteed
I’ m yours yet if you break me I’m no longer warranted
So we are ruled by the veto sewers around us
The suicide of intransient society
The rigidity of deep-sunken norms
In your dreams I am he
(I still can be him in your reality).
Where can I take you so we can incautiously philander
‘til the plot thickens?
Welcome me to your dome like in the olden days,
Or come to mine.
I remember I was too close to you,
Closer than your skin, than your breath.
Your heart used to be my address, huh?
Who evicted me, when, why? How?

I played second best, you played second worst
Until my best became the worst thing in your eyes
You stayed the emblem of my banners
You stayed the invisible critic to my manners.
My confidence is you,
My inward reward, my soul’s steward.
I can oar your boat any time for you have rowed
Mine many times before.
Remember when the earth shook to our petting
I will not blunder and mention the setting.

Like an eternally enveloped enigma
So is the unresponsiveness of our love, this dormancy
Has gnawed at my conscience. Is it Irene?
I cannot be sorry for Lavigne
I’m only sorry I did not make her with you.
How I wish I had offspring by you!
You remain the girl who hosted me nightly in your veranda.
You remain the girl whose eyes are allergic to jacaranda.
You remain to me: Kimberley Hannah Amanda.

Canto2

I’m having visions
Of pleasure
Beyond measure
Beyond erasure:
Leisure and pressure,
We will find what to treasure
I have loved some and tasted the swampy road of emotional treason
Others felt like the heaviest sentence in the worst prison,
You only I never once needed a reason
Only you are earnestly and effortlessly pleasing.
Please trust
This ain’t lust
It is me trying to adjust:
If I should have you then I must.

As I wax older may it be you that I see daily.
You are in my head, I am in your bosom.
If watered this garden can re-blossom.
No solemn promise was ever made

Time and I are still locked in that closet of great heaves
Trees still have their green leaves
Where my heart once harvested sheaves
Before the thieves; how loneliness bereaves,
With every longing the soul grieves
With such pangs of yearning to be once again received,
Love is about us two, be not deceived...
Take me back to those days I you urge
Give our emotions another gush and upsurge.
Amen.

Gratitude

Hey guys you will be glad to notice that I'm on the net now screaming to be heard like a billion others. Just opened my very own Blog.
many thanks to Brigid Primrose. I love you. This was all your idea. You support me so much. And Ryanie you always believed in me. Celebration Church.

Watch out for the dissection of my mentality, and all my poetic influences. Look out.