Tuesday, November 17, 2015

When I think of you

It is so sudden; tears
They come announced
Tears.

It is so shocking; tears
The tide and ebb in your throat
Tears.

It is so tragic; tears
They leave you drained yet satiated
Tears.

They keep coming; tears
Copious droll that will drain you
Tears.

Come to me; tears
Come unhindered, unfettered, unloved — undone
Tears.

Monday, October 5, 2015

I crave you

On some nights
Nights with no name, no moon, no breeze
The body craves you.

On some nights
When breathing is heavy and sight misty
The body craves you.

On some nights
When I whisper your name far too many times into the pillow
The body craves you.

On some nights
When a whiff of your scent lies hidden in my clothes
The body craves you.

On these nights
Tales of love and loss are penned by poets
And the body, it craves you.

On these nights
Poetry finds a quiet bower to die
And my body, it craves you.

Tonight is such a night
My sighs light my imagination on fire
And I crave you
Desperately need you
Want you
My body aches for you
For you.

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Sing-song

Whoosh, flew away your dream
It is not your friend anymore
Revolution, evolution, a fair society
Hah, says history, don’t you know me at all?

Try and catch it and then fall with a thud
It is not your beloved anymore
Equality, respect, balance and peace
Hah, chuckles history, others have come and gone.

Look, look its swirling and circling your head
Your own is now your foe
We want, we need, we deserve it all
Hah, snorts history, dream on.

I know, I know this verse sounds bitter
Sour grapes some would say
I have tried and tried to regain my senses
Hah, cried history, your kind will one day wither away.

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

To be a human

The reflection in the mirror is not just you
It is your truth, inverted; a stranger.

The hatred in your neighbour’s eyes is your own
It is your failing, echoed; familiar.

You say ‘I’ forgetting the ‘us’
It is your tragedy, on loop; a marauder.

As night falls you see less of your shadow
It is your history, eroding; a loner.

Every morning you strive to find yourself

It is your lot, doomed; forever.