These lost years of loneliness and social depravity
Have left me with nothing except this written tragedy
I sat and watched as the walls of my life crumbled away
Into this contorted sensation twisting through dismay
These ceaseless rememberance sessions screaming inside
A dead fixed stare on old friends taking cyanide

These bonds have come together in such a swift motion
And, just as fast they've came to their abrubt destruction
Dispersing any tint of mutual belonging from view
Molding a sad landscape of sighs and failing virtue
Watching as the remnants of my relationships loiter
The catacombs of these stockpiled confession letters

If only I could say anything my empathy had to tell me
My skeletal pose might have perched upright in a higher degree
And I would of have grown to a more formidable size
A clear cut aspiration that I never came to realize
Until all that I held grew too big for me to carry
and left me to stumble and sleep at the cemetary

Scratching dead love songs on century old gravestones
Where the forgotten have slept for generations alone
Hoping the crude penmanship might grace a weary heart
Or help a looming ghost feel a taste of love and depart
From the fog filled graveyard parade that it dwells
A final ringing from the synapsis of the greif bells

Sparking the ruin of a memory that doesn't seem real
A fading echo of a brotherhood I wish I could still feel
Detached from a reality that lurks in a decrepit imagery
Reshaping my empty cognition through a fake neuro surgery
I've reached the point where I have no reason to find
A replacement for all these buried pictures astray in my mind

And by hope did he sit by the river, waiting for a chance for his heart to quiver. Would his luck deliver? He always sat by the mystic river always wondering, day-dreaming and one day a girl named Mbali came on the other side of the river to draw water. He couldn't speak as he was timid, struck by her beauty. The sun wouldn't shine by day as he'd have to wait for the entrance of dawn to see her again... In the blurry image of the night did her eyes shine and his heart pound. Everyday he would go at night just to see her, even from a distance, even though he wouldn't speak to her...

Until one day, he decided to write letters and tie them to rocks and then throw them to the other side. On opening one letter one day, it read: "I have not known day until I met you. My heart has been solid until it was melted by the likes of you. My eyes were blind until I saw you. My mind was dull until I pondered on your every pixel."

Elated she responded: "And though I do not know you, it is the steerer of the rivers who has brought you here. Whatever game you are playing I cannot cheer. You are so near yet so far, how can you be my lover when you are not here?". Frustrated the boy continued to write but stopped posting. He went to a farmer who lived in a distant village, he made a deal to work for him until he could earn a cow. The farmer asked, "what is it you want with a cow young man?", the boy replied, "There is a precious jewel awaiting to be collected and I best hurry before the rich find her...err-uhm - I mean it"... Chuckling, the farmer said: "So it's a girl you're in love with... Well not a problem, you will do half the work and take part in my bi-annual ancestral ceremony then shall you earn your cow". And so it was, the boy got drenched in the blood of a goat and his cow for him was skinned and butchered.

He left dragging its skeletal  system and its skin worn as a coat. So he began building a boat to cross the river. The first was made from rubble but did not move. So he sent another letter, this time she replied kindly, saying: "But oh warrior of love, slave of folly, do you work this much to be my one and only? You best be heaven for hell I've seen, Without the muscle of passion lonely have I been"... Inspired, the boy now used only wood to build the boat, however testing it it sank. Frustrated he wrote: "Does this heart of love only bleed? As the boat of my redemption ever breaks, you and I cannot be a mistake, doubt and hesitation dare I forsake. My sun, my flower in winter, my snow in summer I am not a quitter".

This time the boy used wood, a bit of rubble as well as the skeletal system of his cow. (The meat of the cow he sold for a good price to the highest bidder) This would be the first person in either divided villages to cross and live. There were crocodiles and snakes in the river. The water was sacred and used for healing. The girl had an ill grandmother and she had to wear a certain necklace each time when drawing water... This probably the reason why her eyes sparkled at night.

And so the endeavour began, and as mystery unveiled; the boat moved and on it he got and rowed and rowed. Just halfway a snake jumped into his boat and a crocodile was nearing. He then calmed the snake by whistling in a strange rhythmic tone, this woke the girl (as she had been thinking about him ever since) and she took a lamp with her to go see what was transpiring by the river.

Shaking from what she saw, she screamed and started crying, the boy remained calm as he was dealing with the snake... Bravery either out of fear or character sprung out of the girl as she threw the lamp along with her necklace... The boy wore the necklace and shun the lamp and the snake, the crocodile and other creatures instantly disappeared. And this is how Mbali and Zulu met. Zulu went on to become the chief of that village and took just one wife; Mbali. Being the only chief-king to ever do so.

Clean
          your
                  sooty
                 grime
stratified like a chopped tree.
Knitted into clothes for me.
Follow the wicked edge of
the yellow road,
    Inclined to doze in the junction of my
doorway, carry with you dragonfly-brooch
wings to flutter.
           Naked newborn to an age of
          
                                                     social settings
on max— to touch
me, to you.

Take the chomps,
lend me your spine,
joints,
match me.

Eat what I have to bear,
like a child of my purple-blushed
foulness.

A bucking bitch, like a war-torn, skeletal femme,
used.

Here,
open up.

I'll lose a tiny hand.

Standing sacred amongst the dead,
A mausoleum built, protected,
It watched and witnessed the years as they passed,
It remained silent against life so vast,
A vigil reminder that the dead can be kings,
The wealth of many don’t think of such things,
Remembered in death as they were in life,
This fixture wept beyond their mortal sight.
Of broken hearts and dreamy fog,
The Mausoleum held inside, a bog.
-
I witnessed it upon the path I walked,
The dead-end, so to speak, it frightfully stalked,
It almost glowed a neutral grey sheen,
Aghast, I looked past with thoughts of being,
I emptied a heartache upon a pillar,
It reached to me and my hand now withered,
It called my name once in the silence,
The voice so hollow, in hallowed solace.
While this garden with dead did proliferate,
I opened what was once the tomb’s inner gate,
I stepped inside not knowing what came
Next for me in life’s theatrical game,
Surprised to see it held a catacomb,
I walked its halls in vain, entombed,
Cephalic attacks of thoughts herein,
Requested presence of answers therein,
Creatures and demons alarming inside,
We take the most identifying and hide,
We look to find we are the same,
In life, in presence, in thought, in vain.
-
I saw the bodies that rested yet here,
They seemed so at peace to sleep for years,
One cadaver at the end of a hall,
Seemed to beckon to me and warned of fall,
The steps leading down, treacherous at best,
I looked at it more as if it were test,
Test of strength, a test of will,
But my insanity would not keep me still,
Hidden between his skeletal palms,
Was a page ripped out of Bible, the psalms,
His favourite, I imagined, but it shook my spine,
Because he appeared so clandestine,
So surreptitious, the look upon his face,
He hid no remorse for passed mistakes
His teeth decayed like his mind did in life,
His bones festered and caused him great strife,
Were it not for the pedestal that held him up,
I wouldn’t have seen aside him a cup,
A cup full of sanguineous red,
The shuffles on the floor from where others fled,
I took his cup and drank from it well,
The taste of old blood, congealed, from Hell.
I then could not have had foretell,
That this would put me in a dreamlike cell,
I stumbled on the floor and rocked,
My thoughts of reality were then so blocked,
I couldn’t hold concept of anything,
I fell asleep and awoke in a dream.
-
The Nightmares, transgressions of the dead that lay
In this catacomb, suffered a fray,
A war between families large and askew,
The swords of fathers to sons imbued,
They bred them with hate and raised them with blood,
They fought their battles as sons best could,
One of them had their internals leave
Their stomach, and organs were bereaved,
Because of a ”friend” that with a knife,
Decided against his opposing strife,
He feigned a hug and with his fist,
Wrenched his weapon and did persist,
To tear his friend apart, depraved,
He cut out his heart and his father gave,
His son his burial rites,
The other family far from contrite,
Desecrated this mausoleum,
The battlefield turned to Coliseum,
The young fighting old and not knowing why,
The women and girls lost much and cried,
Their men would not have any of their words,
Ironic to not hear pleading songs of birds,
The families lost while being forewarned,
Both now lie entombed, both thought of as scourge,
The mischievous gaze the skeleton gave,
I now understood, I thought I was insane,
Even in Hell, he battles them still,
I learned not to let idiotic persistence cloud my will.

I grabbed your hand when no one was glancing
but you were waiting, causing constrictions
of my aorta. My legs were dancing.
Epinephrine increased my convictions.
Remember that cold winter night when we
hid from the snow, filled my room with laughter?
Together we laid on my bed, a sea
of blankets between us, but then after
you left me broken and hallowed of blood.
Winter consumed my skeletal structure
my marrow turned liquid, poured out a flood,
causing white snow to loose its luster.
Your apologies can’t refill my veins
Waiting for you replaced organs with pain.

annihilate self
to melt away
what isn't skeletal
leaving only core

draw taught
until tension breaks
points of moments
which outline

in relief
see the figure
that you want
to try to
be

eke out

There's a sickness in me, something I hide
At night I log on and search my inside demons
Low grade image on HD monitors
Guts and glory

I watch the videos, and smile, post a comment
Boy's body torn to shreds, eighteen wheeler destruction
I see you in Mexico, gangland violence
Remove three heads in a four minute clip, machete madness

Lean back in a leather chair, comfort in freedom
Adolescent boy, hung by the ankles
"Allah Hu Akbar", whip his ass bloody
Family takes turns, mother holds a bedpan

Black man beats white woman, dominant dictator
Whore shouldn't have kissed another man
Beat sense past the bleach on her scalp
Sister apathetically asks him to stop
Weak willed humanity

Who were you, before your face was gone?
Fighting this war, none shall win
Cannot see your brothers
One steals your wedding ring

There is a sickness in me
I derive pleasure from these pictures
"Zlo'radstvo", the sick man vomits

What jail cell is this
That one shoots up so freely
Gambling dirty cash
Am I, a free man, allowed to do the same?

Poor boy, cut the noose from round your neck
The poor girls are fighting in the streets
Childhoods are lost
It's hot out here, getting hotter still

Police brutality, gas station punch-up
Families fight, prostitutes steal
Streetlights are gallows
and the town burns to ashes,
with a skeletal man stumbling through the smog

Incestuous family, filming sick fantasy
Little sister scorned, crying to sleep
Bleeding orifice of a broken bitch
Bleed for daddy, bleed, bleed

There is a sickness inside of me

Terrorist, hooded infidel, story to tell
Death to the west and other such messages
Bomb your city
Bomb your school
Upload it all to YouTube

A couple thousand hits of a girl beneath a truck
Dead-eyed cameraman zooms into a strewn liver
Back to her once pretty mouth
Anonymous comments, sexual deviants

There is a sickness in me and I want it gone

Secret currency, pays for a secret vice
I enjoy watching violence erupt,
Warring girls in the schoolyard
Cuts her hair, kicks to the face
I masturbate, feeling disgraced

Grainy suicide, bounce from the ground
Racist attack on a bus, perpetrator not found
Baby raped in a crib, video with no sound
TheYNC profits from this,
The human condition keeps me coming around

There is a sickness in me
I call it humanity

Hours whiled away, begrudgingly sordid pixels
Opening new links, delving into insanity
Curiosity got the better of me
Tonight I probably won't sleep