the nature of love rests on my crisp blue collars
dancing in merriment against the scent of my.....thoughts
i love...the love i feel
the love that's sealed in my chest bouncing like rubber coated sand
on a red carpet...
the nature of love rests on my crisp navy-blue sleeves
screaming for the attention of my distracted....thoughts
to cleave to the hint of hope that it sees
Oh! they dance like "litttle people" gravelling at my painted nails and pedicured feet!!
i love the love i feel
so neat, so beautiful, so real
l love the love i feel...
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Drizzle before the rain...
The night is still, the moon follows as fast as my thoughts touch with the sounds of birds
of shadowed bodies
The night is still, but only one third of the moon follows, my mind tries to shrug physicality and spirituality of what dusk spills on a simple soul
My heart captures the nocturnal happenings like the inevitability of gravity
We sat together and I’m reminded of true friendship and affection
Too soon for its extremities to be explored
My mind is erased of all memory and my heart journeys for answers
This confusion is driving me insane!
But who would believe that this is drizzle before the rain?
Your willing, hewn lips dribbled words I want to hear but doesn’t surface reality
I deliberately held your hands just to rekindle what I ONCE felt with a similar "race"
What I saw in another’s eyes………
Momentarily………too discreet but clear enough to recognize its trueness
As my mind compares the present with the past it’s almost impossible to decifer which ground my feet firmly stand…..that physical place of dust or grass
Or the world in which my sub consciousness resides
The world unknown to everyone else but me
But what’s the point in delving in this feeling when it cannot be shared with another?...
I’m baffled at how the human mind operates
On these very grounds my feet grind on its debri to keep level a soul which wanders, cautiously
Seeking worthy material
To inspire, recapture and refocus
One that aspires to bring difference to the table so that the world can
explore and seek to achieve peace of mind
And hope that… this serves two fold…
of shadowed bodies
The night is still, but only one third of the moon follows, my mind tries to shrug physicality and spirituality of what dusk spills on a simple soul
My heart captures the nocturnal happenings like the inevitability of gravity
We sat together and I’m reminded of true friendship and affection
Too soon for its extremities to be explored
My mind is erased of all memory and my heart journeys for answers
This confusion is driving me insane!
But who would believe that this is drizzle before the rain?
Your willing, hewn lips dribbled words I want to hear but doesn’t surface reality
I deliberately held your hands just to rekindle what I ONCE felt with a similar "race"
What I saw in another’s eyes………
Momentarily………too discreet but clear enough to recognize its trueness
As my mind compares the present with the past it’s almost impossible to decifer which ground my feet firmly stand…..that physical place of dust or grass
Or the world in which my sub consciousness resides
The world unknown to everyone else but me
But what’s the point in delving in this feeling when it cannot be shared with another?...
I’m baffled at how the human mind operates
On these very grounds my feet grind on its debri to keep level a soul which wanders, cautiously
Seeking worthy material
To inspire, recapture and refocus
One that aspires to bring difference to the table so that the world can
explore and seek to achieve peace of mind
And hope that… this serves two fold…
Friday, September 4, 2009
Grand dad
The metal plates clattered on the swinging bridge when smacked by a riveting four wheeler;cruising down its tedious length. Casting tainted air emanating from the stretch of calm waters; mothering stray matter without a sound of protest. The air faded and it's replacement hugged my senses with gracefulness.
I stuck my head through the window and allowed barely visible particles to brush my face and explore my hair follicles.
The sunset's gleam climbed on luscious green tree-tops which stand crowded on the river embankment and white birds ascended to the skies with their beaks still filled. It was then a familiar voice began to play in my head:
"Bad road, bad road what you gonna do?"
"what you gonna do when they come for you!!"
Roared the husky voice of my riant grandfather, Emile(Eh-mill) London. Driving at caution's pace; well within 40km per hour down a bumpy road leading to our usual Friday afternoon treat. The huge umbrellas, of the urban retreat, blanketed the plastic out door setting as the aroma of chinese food filled our noses.
The yellow teeth, straight- hair, slant- eyed owners always greeted us(my sister and i) with a cup of sweet bubbly aerated drink that popped on our tongues as we sipped in a way we had created and adapted.
Grandad would sometimes spend his time with our indigenous friends and conversed in a language my sister and i usually mimicked.
I shifted in the seat of the bus to occupy the vacant space next to me and smirked at the todler knawing the silk shirt on his mother's shoulders. I was immediately taken back to the house where i spent the first four to five years of my life.
The two-storey brown and white structure of fine wood-work sat on the corner of two roads; only a block away from the Roxanne Burnham Backlands commonly known as the Cane fields. The 'red-brick' roads saddled memories of kite-flying.Also, spills of swank by my sister and i which took place during our slurping and gulping 'fiesta' after a heated chase of "catcha" or riding our tri-cycle.
We caught lizards from our trees and staggered them with a piece of wood. Stole a syringe from our uncle's desk drawer, filled it with tap water and injected the hapless victims until they bloated stiff!!
For our indoor trivia, we playfully smacked grandad's round, firm tummy and sang our favourite nursery rhymes until we were chased to bed.
The yellow rays slid on trees until they were well out of sight and nocturnal creatures sang to call their friends out and send early sleepers to bed. A time that reminded me of my more blissful moments....
Being loved and not spoilt, i took time to sample my grandfather's meals when i mounted on a chair and grinned until i got my satisfying share. Got the largest gift nestled under the christmas tree and received an allowance of 10 cents every Friday to purchase two icicles before he came blowing the horn of his white Mazda 323. He would clean my fingers and dust the fibre from the Day Care mattress, out my ribbon held hair.
His eyes always smiled to brighten up a gloomy day.
His arm of correctness and righteousness was strong and dependable. His nature and character were welcomed by many and i loved him sooo much.
The familiar scent of grazing cows dampened the cloud of my dream. The moist evening sand clung to my naked toes and i swayed, briskly, down the dim lit road; through the neighbourhood i now call home.
A disturbing force of gravity pulled my right leg into a pot hole and i began to sing the chorus from a Saturdy night Tv serial...
"Bad road, Bad road what you gonna do.......?"
I stuck my head through the window and allowed barely visible particles to brush my face and explore my hair follicles.
The sunset's gleam climbed on luscious green tree-tops which stand crowded on the river embankment and white birds ascended to the skies with their beaks still filled. It was then a familiar voice began to play in my head:
"Bad road, bad road what you gonna do?"
"what you gonna do when they come for you!!"
Roared the husky voice of my riant grandfather, Emile(Eh-mill) London. Driving at caution's pace; well within 40km per hour down a bumpy road leading to our usual Friday afternoon treat. The huge umbrellas, of the urban retreat, blanketed the plastic out door setting as the aroma of chinese food filled our noses.
The yellow teeth, straight- hair, slant- eyed owners always greeted us(my sister and i) with a cup of sweet bubbly aerated drink that popped on our tongues as we sipped in a way we had created and adapted.
Grandad would sometimes spend his time with our indigenous friends and conversed in a language my sister and i usually mimicked.
I shifted in the seat of the bus to occupy the vacant space next to me and smirked at the todler knawing the silk shirt on his mother's shoulders. I was immediately taken back to the house where i spent the first four to five years of my life.
The two-storey brown and white structure of fine wood-work sat on the corner of two roads; only a block away from the Roxanne Burnham Backlands commonly known as the Cane fields. The 'red-brick' roads saddled memories of kite-flying.Also, spills of swank by my sister and i which took place during our slurping and gulping 'fiesta' after a heated chase of "catcha" or riding our tri-cycle.
We caught lizards from our trees and staggered them with a piece of wood. Stole a syringe from our uncle's desk drawer, filled it with tap water and injected the hapless victims until they bloated stiff!!
For our indoor trivia, we playfully smacked grandad's round, firm tummy and sang our favourite nursery rhymes until we were chased to bed.
The yellow rays slid on trees until they were well out of sight and nocturnal creatures sang to call their friends out and send early sleepers to bed. A time that reminded me of my more blissful moments....
Being loved and not spoilt, i took time to sample my grandfather's meals when i mounted on a chair and grinned until i got my satisfying share. Got the largest gift nestled under the christmas tree and received an allowance of 10 cents every Friday to purchase two icicles before he came blowing the horn of his white Mazda 323. He would clean my fingers and dust the fibre from the Day Care mattress, out my ribbon held hair.
His eyes always smiled to brighten up a gloomy day.
His arm of correctness and righteousness was strong and dependable. His nature and character were welcomed by many and i loved him sooo much.
The familiar scent of grazing cows dampened the cloud of my dream. The moist evening sand clung to my naked toes and i swayed, briskly, down the dim lit road; through the neighbourhood i now call home.
A disturbing force of gravity pulled my right leg into a pot hole and i began to sing the chorus from a Saturdy night Tv serial...
"Bad road, Bad road what you gonna do.......?"
Friday, August 21, 2009
Naughty
Clad in a spaghetti strap brown top and wholesome cotton panties
that accentuates my thighs and hugs the mouth of my upper legs!
With my hair drawn back and torso thrust forward comfortably in a one piece cushioned furniture
Tucked under a grilled and shaded window as dusk surrounds my timid soul like dew
Dew melting to steam as it confronts the heat of the room, of my body,
of the lap top?
With the glare of this wide screen technology as my company
My lips slowly visits the mouth of a water bottle; allowing every sip to stream down my throat to replenish thought and revitalize imagination
My passion is my focus
Beads of sweat trickle down by neck and flood the bridge of my nose
Feet clasped and panties neat
What on earth is causing this heat!!
Maybe it was wrong… but I invited a feeling
That flung my “guards” straight through the ceiling
I sprung up in effort to restore composure
Frantic, I sat down…
I gripped the furniture
Tossing and twisting… tossing and twisting
Deep puffs of air released insanely
But something……. is still not clear to me!!
As I heard voices grew in volume…you see
Close and strikingly familiar faces were clear and lively
Like the view of fishes through a Windex cleaned aquarium
Like sunshine after a rain storm…
The room was as bright as day
and I shifted for comfort in a another panty
and absorbed the conversation in a tone so gaily
then it occurred to me…
I was having a writer’s fantasy
that accentuates my thighs and hugs the mouth of my upper legs!
With my hair drawn back and torso thrust forward comfortably in a one piece cushioned furniture
Tucked under a grilled and shaded window as dusk surrounds my timid soul like dew
Dew melting to steam as it confronts the heat of the room, of my body,
of the lap top?
With the glare of this wide screen technology as my company
My lips slowly visits the mouth of a water bottle; allowing every sip to stream down my throat to replenish thought and revitalize imagination
My passion is my focus
Beads of sweat trickle down by neck and flood the bridge of my nose
Feet clasped and panties neat
What on earth is causing this heat!!
Maybe it was wrong… but I invited a feeling
That flung my “guards” straight through the ceiling
I sprung up in effort to restore composure
Frantic, I sat down…
I gripped the furniture
Tossing and twisting… tossing and twisting
Deep puffs of air released insanely
But something……. is still not clear to me!!
As I heard voices grew in volume…you see
Close and strikingly familiar faces were clear and lively
Like the view of fishes through a Windex cleaned aquarium
Like sunshine after a rain storm…
The room was as bright as day
and I shifted for comfort in a another panty
and absorbed the conversation in a tone so gaily
then it occurred to me…
I was having a writer’s fantasy
Ghost of my heart
The intent of dusk visibly floods the streets, falls on the window panes of nearby houses and circulates my soul.....not to transfer its DNA
but to make clear a new path, a new cause, a new day?
Slender fingers grew warm to the sentiments embroidered beneath its breast
punching unpredictable keys
puppetted by unpredictable thoughts
I sat overwhelmed, foaming with questions on the quest for answers
like a spade digging and digging to the core
one as blind as your eyes but as sharp as your motive
quivering, creeping and infrared
staring and exploring a mind of interest
and yet you are that spade...
unless welded to satisfy a different purpose
will never gather enough... to fathom person, mind nor situation at hand
i dont blame you.....which mortal can?
eyes stare back
for what it already sees
but are you ready to listen to its story?
or is it perhaps you cant endure what.... it..has..to...offer?
i squirmed in restlessness and discomfort
each turn reflecting images of a face one carefully and thoughtfully painted on a paper,
shredded to a million pieces and scattered to its deserving demise...or so i thought
but like your laughs, charm and depth; they have conveniently found each other
by the mending , knitting and weaving of old-interests new !!
here i lay
embracing the progression from bliss to reality
like a child graduating from the myth of monsters in the dark to the age of puppy love
both blooming vague detail but reveals its truth overtime...intime
here i lay
wallowing on the promising trails of a brighter tomorrow
i dwindled, to a numbing shape
in the subtle, hidden confines of my mind
A place once comfortable
Frozen memories of cold dismiss
three of which/whom you are responsible
And now disturbing the dust and dusk of past
that's swept by a feeling that may never last
though mutually desirous of a different start
You are sadly pro-nounced as ... Ghost of my heart!
but to make clear a new path, a new cause, a new day?
Slender fingers grew warm to the sentiments embroidered beneath its breast
punching unpredictable keys
puppetted by unpredictable thoughts
I sat overwhelmed, foaming with questions on the quest for answers
like a spade digging and digging to the core
one as blind as your eyes but as sharp as your motive
quivering, creeping and infrared
staring and exploring a mind of interest
and yet you are that spade...
unless welded to satisfy a different purpose
will never gather enough... to fathom person, mind nor situation at hand
i dont blame you.....which mortal can?
eyes stare back
for what it already sees
but are you ready to listen to its story?
or is it perhaps you cant endure what.... it..has..to...offer?
i squirmed in restlessness and discomfort
each turn reflecting images of a face one carefully and thoughtfully painted on a paper,
shredded to a million pieces and scattered to its deserving demise...or so i thought
but like your laughs, charm and depth; they have conveniently found each other
by the mending , knitting and weaving of old-interests new !!
here i lay
embracing the progression from bliss to reality
like a child graduating from the myth of monsters in the dark to the age of puppy love
both blooming vague detail but reveals its truth overtime...intime
here i lay
wallowing on the promising trails of a brighter tomorrow
i dwindled, to a numbing shape
in the subtle, hidden confines of my mind
A place once comfortable
Frozen memories of cold dismiss
three of which/whom you are responsible
And now disturbing the dust and dusk of past
that's swept by a feeling that may never last
though mutually desirous of a different start
You are sadly pro-nounced as ... Ghost of my heart!
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Proud and free!
Amidst the deep-green fields, stretching to a fainting distance buries the bones and footprints of my forefathers
My toes quivered at the loose dirt dancing under my feet
Throbbing now to the pace of my racing heart beat
I stand proud, black and worthy of this inheritance and rising knowledge to impart
Dark dust rises to re-create muscular, gyrating souls and tireless hands slashing trees, building tents, ploughing fields
And even more tender but weather-beaten hands picking cotton and dragging corn bags
the heavens darken to honor naked skins glistening with sweat
sharp leaves graze on backs throwing a fishing net
On these soaring grounds i stand proud, black and worthy
The offsprings of these hands and strength, drums a Yoruba feat.
Pulsating and gyrating in mad frenzy
Staggering rythmatically, and filling the moment, every chance they get
My people slaved, anticipated and celebrated 1838
the fundamentals of this history bids my soul free
chains burst from my ankles and wrists, freedom bellows through my soul, the mental shackles have been broken
here history unfolds
Drums ramble and rumble by hands young and old
So hang your worries on a shelf and emancipate yoself(twice)
free your minds, leap with your hearts
here is where black history starts
On these soaring grounds i stand proud, black, worthy and free!!
My toes quivered at the loose dirt dancing under my feet
Throbbing now to the pace of my racing heart beat
I stand proud, black and worthy of this inheritance and rising knowledge to impart
Dark dust rises to re-create muscular, gyrating souls and tireless hands slashing trees, building tents, ploughing fields
And even more tender but weather-beaten hands picking cotton and dragging corn bags
the heavens darken to honor naked skins glistening with sweat
sharp leaves graze on backs throwing a fishing net
On these soaring grounds i stand proud, black and worthy
The offsprings of these hands and strength, drums a Yoruba feat.
Pulsating and gyrating in mad frenzy
Staggering rythmatically, and filling the moment, every chance they get
My people slaved, anticipated and celebrated 1838
the fundamentals of this history bids my soul free
chains burst from my ankles and wrists, freedom bellows through my soul, the mental shackles have been broken
here history unfolds
Drums ramble and rumble by hands young and old
So hang your worries on a shelf and emancipate yoself(twice)
free your minds, leap with your hearts
here is where black history starts
On these soaring grounds i stand proud, black, worthy and free!!
Thursday, July 30, 2009
A night to remember...
Here i sit at the center of the moving world
fermenting with excitement, love and lust
My thoughts drifted but cleaved to the five senses like
killer claws wrapped around a scrumptuous feast!
Finger nails buried itself in cushioned furniture
perhaps too deeply as fraying fibres clung to its crevice
i clenched a fist....
fighting a battle with an enemy filling my veins as fast as lightening and as intense as my love
Toe nails sunk in sand as deep as leeches on tender flesh
my mouth widened but pain struck the sound
My flimsy dress... as loose as the action of acetone on hard nail polish; swayed to the tune of the
wind...
A tune that blinds and intoxicates without striking consciousness
like Vodka and orange juice......
ONE TOO MANY
i tried to resist but stifled my senses and caused a collision with my emotions!
CRASH!!!
Smell..Lust!, Touch...Excitement!, See...Love!
they raced like water thrown down a narrow Well
i clasped my feet to suffocate a deep, throbbing of some sort
that wasn't my heart!!
taken by a force; they stumbled and fell
Can never absorb only repel
like a moment's confrontaton with heaven and hell
Hands as soft as full fresh petals.....stretched and cupped my face
And a light.....bright enough to look at and narrow enough to direct a new path
I sat here....imbibed
my vision clear but purpose in formation
the throbbing subsided
focus divided but chanelled in peaceful equilibrium
touching with meaningful insight
blanketed by this... calm night
fermenting with excitement, love and lust
My thoughts drifted but cleaved to the five senses like
killer claws wrapped around a scrumptuous feast!
Finger nails buried itself in cushioned furniture
perhaps too deeply as fraying fibres clung to its crevice
i clenched a fist....
fighting a battle with an enemy filling my veins as fast as lightening and as intense as my love
Toe nails sunk in sand as deep as leeches on tender flesh
my mouth widened but pain struck the sound
My flimsy dress... as loose as the action of acetone on hard nail polish; swayed to the tune of the
wind...
A tune that blinds and intoxicates without striking consciousness
like Vodka and orange juice......
ONE TOO MANY
i tried to resist but stifled my senses and caused a collision with my emotions!
CRASH!!!
Smell..Lust!, Touch...Excitement!, See...Love!
they raced like water thrown down a narrow Well
i clasped my feet to suffocate a deep, throbbing of some sort
that wasn't my heart!!
taken by a force; they stumbled and fell
Can never absorb only repel
like a moment's confrontaton with heaven and hell
Hands as soft as full fresh petals.....stretched and cupped my face
And a light.....bright enough to look at and narrow enough to direct a new path
I sat here....imbibed
my vision clear but purpose in formation
the throbbing subsided
focus divided but chanelled in peaceful equilibrium
touching with meaningful insight
blanketed by this... calm night
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