Method To the Madness

I exist, to be,

the exeption to the rule
The compliance with resistance
The sunshine in the rain.

I persist, to see, the renewal of the old
The life within persistance
The light inside an instant
What might be hidden gold.

I breath, to feel, the shouting in the silence,
The holliness in madness
The warmth in that, that’s cold.
The sadness behind smiles,
may hide,
The meaning of the soul.
And in that which seems to hide no lies,
There may be lessons, never said or told.

I smile, to find, the smiles in other faces,
To search, for human races’ igniting factors in the folds

I live, to learn, the method in the madness,
so that in my last pages, I can tell
the instigations for the treason,
the lessons in the laughter.
The reason and rhythm, to the rhyme.

The illuminations of disasters,

and that only I, am truly mine.

In The Rain

To breathe the air,

You push out of your way when you move,

deepest pleasure.

The winds inside,

A Storm.

 

To see your eyes happy

indescribable treasure,

If only my own eyes could withstand

whats rong.

 

To live thinking we have

‘happy ever after’

A fantasy too heavy,

To ever hold smiles or laughter.

 

I had my finger in the dike for so long,

That my song has been sung

and my dizzy head’s swum.

 

Now I’m empty,

but for beautifull,

and painfull memories

A vesle in which,

almost all hope is gone.

 

I’ll just wait for the day,

when waking up doesn’t feel like disaster,

Cos beside me I can’t feel your warmth.

 

Eight months down the line,

That day’s yet to come.

 

But my hope, what little’s left,

is the light,

its my charm.

Mkokoteni

It stood.
I say it stood, not sat, not lay.
On one flat tyre, four steadying stones,
Heavy laden, but stable.

It stood, arms outstretched, none to reciprocate.
a centre piece in itself,
It stands open with promise for a new day.

Green, glimmering apples, bananas fit to bite,
Mangoes, Skuma Wiki, fresh pineapples, the like.
It stands offering these timeless delights.
Although, itself not entirely upright.
It stands.

It displays this tantalising beauty
without justification or resentment.
It simply stands, each item placed
perfectly against the next.
Articulately positioned as though, they arrived
through appearance, not on
tired backs, and sweat tainted brows.

‘Admire me’ he whispered, ‘come buy from me’
he said.
I could only admire, at that time, his blatant brilliance,
framed by mud, smoke and cement.

The picture stays on with me,
I did not meet its creator that day.
I did however, meet his art,
However unlikely it is, that he thinks of it that way.

And I do wish, that I had what it would take.
To buy him a new frame.

The Lie

The compliments flow naturally,

Bubbles from champagne

Caresses are compulsory,

Seductive rules, for a seductive game.

 

Intensities are guidelines, for

When to run and when to stay,

Lies are compulsory,

Only to keep the truth at bay.

 

The visual is audible,

Scents mingle with sound.

Love is the fantasy,

That keeps our feet off the hard ground.

 

Life is imaginary, when we want it to be.

A hard to come by, ecstasy,

To which we’re bound, in which, we’re free…

A bitter sweet kungo, within whose stone, is

almond glee.

Virginity

I’m a doll.

Gone.

from all I’ve known.

I don’t think I’m anything, Not Anymore. In one instant you stole what I didn’t think could go.

 

I didn’t ask to be bought or sold.

But I picked the prince who was really a frog,

No, Toad.

 

Falling in love with the idea of  forever.

I had taken from me what could be returned,

Never.

While his blood flowed, hot and fast

Throbbing thrusts grabbed the warmth

out my heart.

 

Stabbed my naivety, serves it right!

For letting me think I had strength

and might.

He was stronger.

 

I was a little girl, on a stage,

putting on a brave face.

But he didn’t see the child in me,

only cleavage and lace.

So he acted accordingly.

Turned my heart beat, to stones

in me.

 

Till I am a doll, not me.

Just legs and arms

Which, at your will are easily disarmed.

 

I had a name in my heart, worth

more than its sound.

My porcelain visage, you threw to the

ground.

To reveal the inflatable doll I became.

 

And so, in due course, I gave into the

force, as the first stroke had done all the damage,

had paid the full cost.

 

So I did it again, my face set in a mask of confusion,

smile set, to mask the hysteria within, that I hadn’t

a clue, what to do with.

 

Most of me had left the room.

had left me behind,

To be a flexible, realistically faced

cavity.

orifice.

Whose purpose is to let you dive into me.

 

You had destroyed me.

 

So there was nothing left to loose.