I want to dress in
your insecurities and
be the perfect you.
- Corey Taylor
We live through my frail
in this world, we love.
Flicker, black and white,
the scenes that make up our lives.
Shaded in dark light.
The greatest Haiku,
our fractured, structured romance,
prison art for you.
I got a tattoo;
your face, inside my eyelids.
The night owes me you,
and you owe me the night, too.
I am morning, blue.
If you see me run
ask the wind to give me flight.
Catch me in summer.
Tell me you loathe me.
I want to be the one you
love in black and blue.
If I regret you,
my sorrow must be only
because I'm lonely.
You are my secret,
my self-loathing, my fury.
You drink the glory.
That taste: your cold kiss.
Should all else fail, remember this.
Winter on your lips.
That scent; earth and rain,
fogging in my skull again,
season ripe for pain.
The touch, inside skin,
only ghosts can wander in;
abandoned - ruin.
The vision, since scarred,
iris pattern bleeding hard,
beauty of you, blurred.
That sound, a distant
echo of another day;
winter, ruin, bleeds.
Give to me your tongue;
when you turn your back on me,
it might stay and talk.
You wind me up, let me go.
Don't understand no.
I write you haikus;
five syllables, seven, five.
You say: they don't rhyme.
Your eyes are open,
as though dreaming of my face
creates too much space.
I see you pulsing,
malformed, misinformed, miming.
I think I'm dying.
Iced glass in my veins,
your lack of speech, cauterized
wounds you reopened.
Clouds shift in your eyes,
jaw becomes rigid bone, clenched.
You have betrayed me.
You don't feel yourself
raping my subconscious mind.
You leave me behind.
I hated you then,
past with fervor, the future
feels like resentment.
Somehow, we climax.
Your face, many, like white stars
out of reach. Too far.
The sky is mourning,
bleeding red and blue, for you,
raining in rainbows.
Afternoon sun pales
to cloak the coming night.
The sky looks brutal.
Romance, inception -
ensnare our greatest love, hope,
kill us with your depth,
frail, lucid dreaming,
the wake-up kiss of new days,
fresh belief, broken.
Use me if you please.
This bruised affection is yours,
sincerely - adored.
It happens with old men
Have seen it times umpteen
I’m a boy again
You too sweet sixteen!
You sit with folded knees
Pulling down your skirt
Lest in naughty breeze
Thereto my eyes dart!
As long as it’s your face
Things are hunky dory
Tales of such retrace
Tell you as teatime story!
But often it happens
As the dreams unfurl
I can’t make its sense
Appears another girl!
She may be the one I know
Or a face I have never seen
Crafted in moon’s glow
Carved from days of teen!
Such dreams they quickly abort
When her I embrace
Make with her a rapport
On her neck comes back your face!
Next morn I feel glum
Hide behind newspaper
Teatime I sit mum
Without a story for her!
Ramirez waits on the couch
for the date of his life
there's no call for nervous-smiles
her daddy gruffly placed you
on the couch
now, you wait and wait and wait
you decide to use some bonus-airtime you received
but who to call?
the one you'd like to spend that time on .. is with your Maker
but you're too shy to talk to God
your Momma told you God's one busy-light
and he ain't got no time for a slow-coach like you
who can barely spell two words
yes, I can spell my name.. leave me alone!
hey man, who says God won't talk to me?
why, I did Him a favour here.. I'm takin' out this here girl
who's never been out before
18 years old and her pappy been watching her so
she can barely make two sentences before her complexion vies with beet
it came to him in a dream.. take her out.. take out.. take her out..
and so, tonight.. he will
Lord behold, where is our boy?
dammit, why did you not watch him?
what... and you believed him??
goodness, go out and find him....NOW!
he didn't take his stuff
she descends slowly, as on a cloud
and smiles in awkward-bunches
oh, if only her father had let her go out before.. like everyone else
she may have been able to see..............................................................
this is the date
took her out
S T - 2 dec 13
A pieces of writings
Expression of ideas and feelings
There lies a lot of findings
Deep within its meanings
Derived from the fine of our imagination
We make poems, our own creation
If it’s made by hope and inspiration
It deserves a remarkable attention
NELSON MANDELA, NUMBER 46664 IS DEAD; EULOGICALLY ELEGIZING DIRGE FOR SON OF AFRICA, HOPE OF HUMANITY AND PERMANENT FLAME OF DEMOCRACY
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya; email@example.com)
Nelson Mandela, South Africa's anti-apartheid beacon, has died
One of the best-known political prisoners of his generation,
South Africa's first black president, He was 95.
His struggle against apartheid and racial segregation
Lead to the vision of South Africa as a rainbow nation
In which all folks were to be treated equally regardless of color
Speaking in 1990 on his release from Pollsmoor Prison
After 27 years behind bars, Mandela posited;
I have fought against white domination and
I have fought against black domination
I have cherished the idea of a democratic
And a free society in which all persons live together
In harmony and with equal opportunity
It is an ideal which I hope to live for and to achieve
But if need be, it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die,
Fortunately, he was never called upon
To make such a sacrifice
And the anti-apartheid campaign did produce results
A ban on mixed marriages between whites and folks of color,
This was designed to enforce total racial segregation
Was lifted in 1985
Mandela was born on July 18, 1918
His father Gadla named him "Rolihlahla,"
Meaning “troublemaker” in the Xhosa language
Perhaps parental premonitions of his ability to foment change.
Madiba, as he is affectionately known
By many South Africans,
Was born to Gadla Henry Mphakanyiswa,
a chief, and his third wife Nosekeni Fanny
He grew up with two sisters
In the small rural village of Qunu
In South Africa's Eastern Cape Province.
Unlike other boys his age,
Madiba had the privilege of attending university
Where he studied law
He became a ringleader of student protest
And then moved to Johannesburg to escape an arranged marriage
It was there he became involved in politics.
In 1944 he joined the African National Congress (ANC),
Four years before the National Party,
Which institutionalized racial segregation, came to power
Racial segregation triggered mass protests
And civil disobedience campaigns,
In which Mandela played a central role
After the ANC was banned in 1961
Mandela founded its military wing Umkhonto we Sizwe
The Spear of the Nation
As its commander-in-chief,
He led underground guerrilla attacks
Against state institutions.
He secretly went abroad in 1962
To drum up financial support
And organize military training for ANC cadres
On his return, he was arrested
And sentenced to prison
Mandela served 17 years
On the notorious Roben Island, off Cape Town,
Mandela was elected as South Africa's first black president
On May 10, 1994
Cell number five, where he was incarcerated,
Is now a tourist attraction
From 1988 onwards, Mandela was slowly prepared
For his release from prison
Just three years earlier he had rejected a pardon
This was conditional
On the ANC renouncing violence
On 11 February 1990,
After nearly three decades in prison,
Mandela, the South African freedom beacon was released
He continued his struggle
For the abolition of racial segregation
In April 1994,
South Africa held its first free election.
On May 10,
Nelson Mandela became South Africa's first elected black president,
Mandela jointly won
The Nobel Peace Prize
With Frederik de Clerk in 1993
On taking office
Mandela focused on reconciliation
Between ethnic groups
And together with Archbishop Desmond Tutu,
He set up the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC)
To help the country
Come to terms
With the crimes committed under apartheid
After his retirement
From active politics in 1999,
Madiba dedicated himself
To social causes,
Helping children and HIV-AIDS patients,
His second son
Makgatho died of HIV-AIDS
In 2005 at the age of 54,
South Africans have fought
a noble struggle against the apartheid
But today they face a far greater threat
Mandela he posited in a reference to the HIV-AIDS pandemic,
The ANC slogan of 1994; A better life for all
Was fulfilled only
For a small portion of the black elite
Crime and lack of job prospects
Continue to threaten the Rainbow Nation,
On the international stage
Mandela acted as a mediator
In the Burundi civil war
And also joined criticism
Of the Iraq policy
Of the United States and Great Britain
He won the Nobel Prize in 1993
And played a decisive role
Into bringing the first FIFA World Cup to Africa,
His beloved great-granddaughter
Zenani Mandela died tragically
On the eve of the competition
And he withdrew from the public life
With the death of Nelson Mandela
The world loses a great freedom-struggleer
And heroic statesman
His native South Africa loses
At the very least a commanding presence
Even if the grandfather of nine grandchildren
Was scarcely seen in public in recent year
Media and politicians are vying
To outdo one another with their tributes
To Nelson Mandela, who himself disliked
The personality cult
That's one of the things
That made him unique,
Nelson Mandela was no saint,
Even though that is how the media
Are now portraying him
Every headline makes him appear more superhuman
And much of the admiration is close to idolatry
Some of the folks who met him
Say they felt a special Mandela karma
In his presence.
Madiba magic was invoked
Whenever South Africa needed a miracle,
Mandela himself was embarrassed
By the personality cult
Only reluctantly did he agree to have streets
Schools and institutes named after him
To allow bronze statues and Mandela museums
To be built
A trend that will continue to grow.
He repeatedly pointed
To the collective achievements
Of the resistance movement
To figures who preceded him
In the struggle against injustice
And to fellow campaigners
Such as Mahatma Gandhi, Albert Luthuli
Or his friend and companion in arms
Oliver Tambo who today stands in Mandela's shadow,
Tambo helped create the Mandela legend
Which conquered the world
A tale in which every upright man
And woman could see him
Or herself reflected,
When Prisoner Number 46664 was released
After 27 years behind bars
He had become a brand
A worldwide idol
The target of projected hopes
And wishes that no human being
Could fulfill alone,
Who would dare scratch?
The shining surface of such a man
List his youthful misdemeanors
His illegitimate children
Who would mention his weakness for women?
And female journalists
With whom he flirted
In a politically incorrect way
When already a respected elder statesman?
Who would speak out critically?
Against the attacks
He planned when he headed the ANC
Armed wing Umkhonto we Sizwe
And who would criticize the way
He would often explode in anger
Or dismiss any opinions other than his own?
His record as head of government
Is also not above reproach
Those years were marked by pragmatism
And political reticence
Overdue decisions were not taken
Day to day matters were left to others
When choosing his political friends
His judgment was not always perfect
A Mandela grandchild is named
After Colonel Muammar Gaddaffi
Seen from today's perspective
Not everything fits
The generally accepted
Picture of visionary and genius,
But Mandela can be excused
Because despite everything
He achieved more than ordinary human beings
His long period of imprisonment
Played a significant role here
It did not break him, it formed him
Had been a university of life for Mandela once posited
He learned discipline there
In dialogue with his guards
He learnt humility, patience and tolerance
His youthful anger dissolved
He mellowed and acquired
The wisdom of age
When he was at last released
Mandela was no longer
Burning with rage,
He was now a humanized revolutionary
Mandela wanted reconciliation
At almost any price
His own transformation
Was his greatest strength
The ability to break free
From ideological utopia
And to be able to see the greater whole
That those who think differently
Are not necessarily enemies
The ability to listen,
To spread the message of reconciliation
To the point of betraying what he believed in,
Only in this way could he
Serve as a role model
To both black and white humanity
, communists and entrepreneurs,
Catholics and Muslims.
He became a visional missionary,
An ecclesiast of brotherly love
Wherever he was, each humanity was equal
He had respect for musicians and presidents
Monarchs and cleaning ladies
He remembered names
And would ask about relatives
He gave each humanity his full attention
With a smile, a joke, a well aimed remark,
He won over every audience
His aura enveloped each humanity,
Even his political enemies,
That did not qualify him
For the status of demi-god
But he was idolized and rightly so
He must be named in the same breath
As Mahatma Gandhi, the Dalai Lama
Or Martin Luther King
Mandela wrote a chapter of world history
Even Barack Obama posited
He would not have become
President of the United States
Without Mandela as a role model,
And so it is not so important
That Mandela is now portrayed
Larger than life
The fact that not everything
He did in politics succeeded is a minor matter
His achievement is to have lived
A life credibly characterized
By humanism, tolerance and non-violence,
When Mandela was released
From prison in 1990,
The old world order of the Cold War era
Mandela stood at the crossroads and set off in the right direction
How easily he could have played with fire, sought revenge,
Or simply failed; He could have withdrawn from public life or,
Like other companions in arms, earned millions,
Two marriages failed because of the political circumstances
His sons died tragically long before him
It was only when he was 80 and met his third wife,
That he again found warmth,
Partnership and private happiness,
Setbacks did not leave him bitter
Because he regarded his own life
As being less important
Than the cause he believed in
He served the community humbly,
With a sense of responsibility
Of duty and willingness to make sacrifices
Qualities that are today only rarely encountered,
How small and pathetic his successors now seem
Their battles for power will probably now be fought
Even more unscrupulously than in the past
How embarrassing are his own relatives
Who argued over his legacy at his hospital bed
Mandela was no saint
But a man with strengths and weaknesses,
Shaped by his environment
It will be hard to find a greater person
Just a little bit more Mandela every day
Would achieve a great deal
Not only in Africa
But in the bestridden geographies
Epochs and diversities of man,
In my post dirge I will ever echo words of Mandella
He shone on the crepuscular darkness of the Swedish
Academy, where cometh the Nobel glory;
Development and peace are indivisible
Without peace and international security
Nations cannot focus
On the upliftment
Of the most underprivileged of their citizens.
They say love finds us when we’re not looking
you see me running down a barren street.
With scars on my chest
giving it my very best
all for the sake of love
You stop me
ask me why I don’t seem to rest
ask me about my bleeding scars
upon my bleeding chest
I turn and say I’m afraid of who I might meet.
I’m looking for someone to hold me
to wrap their arms around me like the planets orbiting the sun
my heart has too much space.
You shed a tear and say I love you
that’s when I knew I had found my place.
I’ll give you everything
I’ll make you my wife
I want to be with you for the rest of my life
Make earthquakes in my heart
Devastate my bones
Tear my soul apart
my life with you
Never let me go alone
Make my heart your home
We hold each other in the night cage
I play with your hair
Lock me up for safety
I don’t want to be scared
The monsters are under the bed
From past loves and scars
You fight on my side in the war of my heart
You say our love is the constellations bowing to the stars
but don’t remember falling asleep
Forgive me if I weep
but love is a word I’ve never managed to keep
Come by the window.
Count the stars with me
when we grow old we still won’t have caught enough for all the reasons I love you.
the word is a sunrise
Throwing light over the world
Show me a new day
Where being in love is completely okay
It's in the style of spoken word so I hope that comes through.
Copyright © Shaun Aspinall 2012 Website: ShaunAspinall.co.uk
What is Love?
I'm not talking about
What she where's Above
Low cut shirts
And tight fitted jeans.
Just to use what's In-between
But what she says.
But it's how we show it
Is always defined,
by a persons Action
Not two people that have
Two people that have,
reason to Believe
The people who show no
I love you soo much Click
Lets see what you're wearing above Click
A couple with
So we both have more,
to talk about.
"What are you doing tomorrow"
"How did your day go?"
Because we all have to borrow,
we're all in debt for the time
In our lives.
And that -First time smile-
Where cheeks are turned,
hearts are burned.
With the same response
"It took you a while"
It takes the right person
To take just a while
To see if smiles aren't
Fake to see if they don't.
Shatter and Break.
A kiss is the biggest,
It means I'm defeated
It means I'm the weakest
Because it has more meaning
Than the greatness
Of just locking lips?
Do you see, what I'm Seeing?
See because were Free
And not just
But we have Free
Reason to Speak
And it gives us Free
I Love You
Are chucked in to the wild
And used soo freely
Would make a person melt
The feelings are warm.
They feel soo familiar
So be careful how they're used
because the words also kill
Are they Free now?
With jewels, clothes, and
materialistic things don't
Bring the Love she brings to me.
"I've been broke(n) all my life"
All the points
Point you in the right direction
For Success to Succeed
This is Reality
Hypocritical to annoy.
The poor man's Rolls Royce
-is the pessimists one good choice.
They live with fragility,
-and rarely tranquility.
Some weep at morbid memories,
-others at faithless fantasies,
-do they (or you?) see the precipices
-between the then, now and will be?
So what if you take a blue bruising back-slap
-for your lacking, a juicy reminding
-for regretful whining, lifetime timing,
-miraculous hopes of a future shining
-because you're wasting your time
-and not even minding!
So listen, or in duller cases, read;
-thoughts are naught but mares and dreams,
-man made mind transparencies
-will's the sum of immediacies
-like waiting in your station
-but you're deciding the destination
-your journey fundamentally what you make it
-it's simple but pessimists are complicated
-would you not trade freedom for a life you hated?
Pessimistic man, forget it
Ranting is silly - you just don't get it
You didn't see the golden beauty I bet it
Gold is copper to you anyway
What would Fibonacci say!
If you are not aware of it, φ is the golden ratio - considered to be the perfect, most beautiful number. Many things in nature and architecture seem to have been designed by it - I promise if you give it a brief Google you should find it a bit interesting.
So as a monument to its awesomeness, the verse and syllable structure of this is based on the Fibonacci sequence - a close cousin of φ, as I'm sure you may discover. There should be more maths poems, but if this is all then I hope you like it. If there are any other patterns here, it was accidental!
I will never
Of hearing your voice
I will never
Of feeling your touch
I will never
Of watching you sleep
Your words still make me blush
But I know
That one day
You'll be tired of me
And on that one day
I'll still love you
what I need
is you to
tell me what
I want everything
to make believe.
I know that we
will die together;
will be weathered.
I am here
or for better.
I know forever
but 7 letters.
I know I never
I could forget her.