Not Ready to grow....

Resolutions
Revelations
The coming together
The turning back
sand grains of memory
taking the shape of yesterday
when we used to play
innocence carved,moulded into being
remnants of children's long forgotten inner fears
Growing up
Growing tall
priorities shifting
From dolls, to lipstick, to boys
seeing to see
resentment for fathers who were never there
chemical acquaintances
medical cabinets, sacred homes inside a home
Epiphanies,too wild, to stagnant, too contradictory
Realising above all, feeling hurt
Making friends
losing friends
building dreams, on academic staircases
ice cold winters in boarding school
finding solace, in unspoken promises
that rang in testosterone enhanced voices
of boys who tickled our fancies
And pulled down our panties.
ink to sink in
when the world got too much.
an English teacher we fantasised of kissing
an English teacher who would have kissed us back
if only matrimony didn't hold her by the hand
mothers crying in hospital rooms
heads shaking, twice made, para-suicide arm bands
reverends in Their 'holier than thou' armour
breathing down a sinner's neck
too surreal a moment,when
night duty nurses slept on duty
while souls lingered just above the ceiling
a lump in my throat
neon darkness engulfing my breath
pain too loud to scream doctor, doctor
self-inflicted, when death took precedence to life
so much behind
memory full to the brim
too little when I look ahead
life taught me to take precautions
I never did
but lived as though I knew what living entailed
been down the milky way
and hell's corridors
it's been too long
she gave birth to me a long while ago
now as I muse,with a half smoked cigarette and coffee hot in my hand
looking grim, as amagadon steps closer
caught in a moment
juxtaposed, and incoherently sane
It will be, two decades and 12months
from the day I saw life'stepped out into the darkening light
I've learnt to feel
but it escapes me.
I'm just not ready!not ready to grow, beyond this moment that is now.

She is Woman, She knows it so...

Tall, hands outstretched
Fate's warrior woman embracing her bitter end
cracked lips kissing the horizon
Young boy with a smile on his face
hatred bruising his existence, holds a gun to her head
He pulls the trigger
Her brains scutter
Her soul bleeds
Giving flamboyance to an austere world
And as life bids her adue
A vision too clear for the mind to grasp
An epiphany only death should taste
tiptoes into her vanishing existence
A young lad coils himself into a foetal position
Drinks milk from her breasts
He takes the form of life in her womb
The very womb that weaves life
that gives birth to these misogynist bastards
Whose hatred for this here:Woman of Women
Young boy belives is inherent
Inscripted in his very DNA
Whose hatred, this here:Woman of Women
Cannot decipher
Cannot comprehend
Cannot condone
Because she chooses to love
Whose hatred they know not
decieves, takes the shape of water
A catalyst to their debilitating state of mind
Whose hatred she dares not take to heart
For why would a mother habor such feelings for her own offspring
Nature deemed it so
That her end, would be a result of his own hand
In a destopian',patriarchal society
Where women such as she
Knelt down in submission
She chose to die in honour
A tall mountain of a Woman
In her lived, hearts unforged
Of Dahomey Amazons
Those ancient worriors of long ago
Earthed mothers of these
these self-loathing
Woman bashing
Violently brainwashed nonentities
But as life has known love
As her feet had walked on her ancestral land
The road like any other wouldnot be facile
Many would come and many would die
But with time, their incoherent melodies would give birth to rhythm
The dust would settle
The tears would dry
Their burfacated state of domiciled fears would cease to be
A day would come
where foul mouthed, bigot infested minds would be no more
Where he knows she
And she knows he
A day would come
Where love neednt be a necessity
Where man does not hold woman hostage
Wher he loves she
and she loves he
A condition of humanity
That is not dictated by virtue of gender
As her life crumbles to dust
From her pain, Hope is birthed
She is Woman
She knows it so
Death takes her by the hand
While life whispers "All is well"
She knows it in her Soul...

without a title!

Untitled! There is a fire blazing, Dissected into a kaleidoscope of broken stars In a drunken stupor, Of an un-domisticated presence, She looks into my eyes and says, "You look explicitly wild" With a hint of laughter I say.. "No,I'm unreasonably drunk" No stranger to the labyrinth of confusion Our hands intertwine awkwardly As we navigate our way through the crowd In a place of seclusion Where the physical could give latitude to an inner-self Un tame the beast from "norms" barricaded walls She looks into my eyes and says "You look explicitly wild" With a hint of laughter I say "No,I'm unreasonably drunk Her breath is wet against my skin Her hands roughly searching for a way She whispers careless incoherency in my ear A meaningful moan escapes my lips Like gunshots to the heart She draws back Half a foot apart, she pulls out a cigarette Lights it Her eyes meet mine, gasoline to a burning fire She blows smoke into my face Because we have be ostracised by society Nature pulls us together Her lips are wild on mine With my back against the wall Brewing a physical war, aimed to pacify,pardon and comprehend unsolicited passion I bite hard into her skin There is magic dust on her fingertips As she ventures into a fatal ground of an un exploited portal Nocturnal sparks antagonise stability Sharp nails into skin, alienate sanity Ailing screams from both she, and I Emanating from a silenced place, confined in both bodies There is delicacy in the way she pulls my hair She opens me up like a book Reads paranoia out of my system Perceived in destruction Swearing, melancholy must be a bitch The fate of yearning flesh Healing un-opened scars She's an endangered part of myself The other half of my brokeness A silhouette tearing existence apart I'm finding it hard to breath I push her down to the floor She comes back hard, returns the blow Hatred for the aftermath of such beauty broadens Lived past mediocrity in the moment I dared to breath She pushes hard against my body Looks me in the eyes and says "You look explicitly wild" With a hint of laughter I say "No,I'm un-reasonably drunk" She kisses me like its for ever Before the moment sinks into oblivion I hold her in my hands Kiss her till the taste of her blood fills me up She's wiping away my tears As I blackout in Ecstasy

in the process of becoming!

I want to find myself in the world

This was my resolution,I thought my life changing epiphany had finally come to me. I was ecstatic. This meant that I'd start a new journey, a journey of discovery, sewing together the pieces of my life that would finally make me whole! I'd know of why I was born,my purpose,I'd find that one place in the world that was designated for me,and me alone. It really seemed easy, like nature or God or what ever controlled my fate would shower me with the knowlegde I needed in order to carry out my purpose in the world.For weeks on end I wondered how my journey would start, I was waiting for a sign, wondering how it would present itself to me, and how I would react. I rehearsed my reaction,I'd be in complete awe. I couldn't wait, but then again I did wait. I waited and waited and waited, until I realised my mind was playing tricks on me,Finding my place in the world was just wishful thinking.

How could I find my place in the world when I had not even found my place in myself. How could I expect stability and comfort and utmost understanding of the world when it seemed the anatomy of my existance was a parody in itself, of itself!How could I achieve what I had dutifully indoctrinated myself into believing I could achieve when my emotions oscillated from complete euphoria to utter grief and melancholy in a matter of seconds!

It dawned in me that finding my place in the world was important,yes, but would amount to mere nothing if I didn't find my place in myself first! Needless to say this is my process of becoming, becoming the person I should be in myself. And such can be achieved in solitude, but with the influences of the outside world, without letting these influences dictate to me what I should be,and how I should be.

So maybe I rushed my epiphany, maybe it is only now that it has come to me. And I am content with my conclusion,see I would rather I stayed lost, than being found in a "short cut kind of way" that would end up being detrimental to me in the end! I'm waiting my turn,patiently so.maybe what would normally take a few days, or weeks will take me a year or two, so what,I cann see my destination, and will get to it,doesn't matter how long it takes! My small journey of becoming will one day metamorphosise into BEING! WATCH!!!

Decorum....

There is a ticking Time bomb inside my head! Where my soul is ripped, eternity overthrown, all thing heard! Though it might seem strangely peculiar,it has reached its full potential, but my ego must still be fed! Listen to the portrayal of a life well lived, dominated ny self inclined mysteries, it's all been said! My own inability to grasp the concept of living without loving, mmy own denial, never wanting to understand!

There is power in my hands, weakness in my eyes, destruction in my head! The novelty wears off, the wounds heal, nothing gnaws and I feel quite fine! This feeling of normality does not bring about peace, but catalyses the blow INSTEAD!!

I smurf Cold Days

I smurf cold days(smurf means love in smurfy,a smurfian dialect :)...)! Actually smurf is anthing you want it to be, but in this context it simply means LOVE!! Yes I smurf cold days,I smurf them very much! There is(to me) something calmly peculiar about cold days! The grey clouds that simply scream, "calm your ass down" when ever I feel overwhelmed.(On a cold day).I also love that people only get out when they need to, perfect time for me to be outside and afloat, and just letting the thought in thoughts of a soul that's growing an inevitable cavity be, as it should be! I smurf cold days because I get to drink as many cups of coffee as I want without feeling guilty!! So maybe I am a potential caffeine addict, I dont mind that, certainly not on my cold days!! Cold days are a very direct metaphor to me, for something pure and beautiful and serene, and quite and and and,I could honestly go on for an eternity and half a second!! Cold days are alone days for me!! I WANT TO BE ALONE WHEN IT'S COLD!! I want to mastercate the incoherency of my thoughts, I want to lose myself in the warmth of it all! I want to smile and write, and laugh like the mad person I know I'm not, but could br, maybe that I am. Yes I'll stick with maybe that I AM! I want to hum out of tune, and sing out of tune!Read a book and listen to my music!! That's what I want to do on cold days! No, I don't want to greet people, or smile at them! My hello's are for me on cold days!! ME! ME! ME! Sadly but fortunately I was not born on a cold day, I'm a spring baby, though I lack the flamboyance to reflect it,but damt it I love cold days, I don't how ever, necesarily love winter, just "winter's cold days",cold days are major catalysts for proctastinating! And yes, I procrastinate like no-ones bussiness!!one thing I have detested with an uncomprehended passion all my life, that I detest still, is when someone walks into your room, early in the (fuckin') morning and opens the curtains so the suns penetrates with unwanted arrogance into your room, and scream Wake up(bitch)!! I never get such on my cold days! NEVER! Anyway I gather I'm rumbling, but with good reason,because when you love something you just lose yourself in trying to paint a mental potrait, potraying why you have some much puppy doll love for it!!I really really really SMURF COLD DAYS, it all just makes me want to sing the Smurf song, "La La La La La La, sing a happy song, LaLaLaLaLaLa, sing it all (cold)day Long!!" :D

I have in my hand, a half empty bag with clothes I plan to throw in a trash can when I get to town. Mother is standing at the gate, with tears running a marathon down her aged face! I wish I could say I feel her pain,but I don't, . God forgive me,I don't. I've left a pile of clothes for her, I know from time to time she'll visit my old room, and hold them close to her face, smell her daughter's poignant odours of failure... She's crying hard! She breaking down! See, often than not I'd lye on Mother lap, consumed by emotion, my erros slowly devouring what ever was left of me. I've seen her bring me tea in my room with half bloody eyes, failed attemp of forced confidence. I've heard her talking with her God, begging him for chances granted,but never taken. I was her main priority, selfish gestures, considering the fact that I was not an only child!! See, the other's thrived, and yearned for martenal praise, but what could have been that, was diverted into attention for a child that needed structured walls so she would not break down, relinquish her hold from reality!! That child was me! I remember when I told mother I was leaving,through her pain, I thought I saw a glimmer of light in her eyes, no she was not happy that I was leaving. What I saw was a mother's willingness to let her child grow! Venture out into the unknown!I wore myself out of all emotion, I nolonger possesed the ability to feel!! And I knew it would eventually kill my Mother! I had to be stagnant in thought, in feeling and in action, IN SOLITUDE!! Funny though, being static meant my final walking away! Losing my identity!!! She'll cry for days on end! And pray for days on end! She won't eat for days on end! But eventually she'll start to live again, without me! And that's the best thing I can do for her! I feel heavy in myself, it has to be my weight and mine alone!! I begin walking, with the corner of my eye I see her holding her other children close to her, I smile!! That's how it should be!!