time rests as though
he knew we yearned for it
he holds his breath
as our moments shared
felt beautifully lucid,
oh, we can only wonder
what it would have meant
if we allowed more of it.

-t.m

a glimmer of who you are, sunlit shimmer
held in your glance,
the softness in your whispers
each word planted mirrors
together, witnessing what needed to wither
bearing what was yet to leather
blinded by the friction
between today and forever
that which we shed,
unable to withstand together
the alluded tragedies of those we met,
who left the brutal parodies of the ends
we prayed that we’d never encounter again
the slow actualities we despise,
but find comfort in, that is,
we feared the warmth that we stumbled in

-t.m

come closer as
we weep together
undoing echoes,
the waves of joy,
aching for love
we could not
weather.

-t.m

jusqu'ici tout va bien
le temps a été
so far, so good
the time has been

je t’entends sous la pluie
soft droplets, kisses to serenade
the eve for more, drew me
yearning for embrace

être la lune dans le ciel  
that holds you, as the tears flush
comforting, the woman who heals
as we did, held in dusk

être revu
in love, in rage, in silence,
in stolen glances, by chance
by you

une autre vie, pour toujours
after life, to live again
another life, to love again
even with loss, over and over
again

- t.m

what’s the hurry
one of my elders told
me about the power of
stillness   you scurry
hoping you will make it
in time   he said i will ne-
ver be able to capture
the essence of life if i am
constantly bewildered  
  worried that clear visions
will turn out muddy   chasing
another human for fulfilment
   questioning whether he or she
will love me  am i enough for my
loved one’s endearment   judging
how other’s worry  forgetting about
my own commitments   my elder told
me to be at peace with the past and
appreciate everything that is
worth loving   everything that is not
will  in due time  reciprocate these
thoughts that build on your spiritual
enrichment

-t.m

i can feel it in the air
i can almost taste it
the challenge of
separating my devils
and desperations

long have i yearned
for serene balance
a nightmarish search
through pink matter
and my own madness

even on the brightest
days i am met with grins
from the shadows
nirvana thins
my past drowns
me in a pool of pathos

but i can almost describe it
the taste that is
even voices within
choose to deny it
a new coat of white
is clearing my canvas

-t.m

another seance, gulping
and gasping, in hopes to
welcome the chaos. wistful
with no margins, no colourful
crayons, nothing promised.
unexpressive, at times
dishonest. passive aggressive,
with a mind in *******. the
desire for an end, the wonder
of what is beyond this. a
prayer for love before then, to
one day look in the mirror with
fondness.

-t.m

gliding through suburbia,
the radio never whispers,
but tonight it seems out
of breath. these glass w-
indows seem more like m-
irrors as we self reflect w-
ith a little more depth. m-
ore depth then when the
sun is up. it’s more her t-
han me, i am yet to feel
love. yet to receive it, m-
y basket is empty. she w-
orries about longevity,
i wonder what it feels lik-
e to have any.

-t.m

it is befitting we closed our eyes
when our lips first held each other
following this romantic film’s script,
staying true to every single word
that we did not

kissing on the kitchen counter
swinging your feet to an
imaginary soundtrack, the feeling
of uncontrollable love accompanies
us through these drunken early hours

-t.m

selling myself short, you
tell me that my accolades
are less than impressive.
she saw me nodding my head
in the city, as i downed a couple
of alcoholic beverages.
she told me that i should
practice sobriety, i told her every
-one has their thing, she told to
not act like i am a head in a crowd,
striving to be average. i told her no
one wants to be the odd one out,
even you are searching for that
balance.

-t.m

what is with all this talk about rising sun,
your compatibility with sagittarius and the
complexities of astrology. stop telling me
about my star sign, i’m trying to read out
the graffiti on that stop sign - and no - i
don’t owe you an apology.

i do not know what is the meaning of balance -
you want to give me all the love i deserve, but
receiving what is reciprocated is the challenge,
you tell me that you have a ginormous forehead,
but if i agree with you i am the *******, i guess
i never knew the meaning of double standards

-t.m

this way of life is more than tranquil,
from day one to five, we sharpen
our tools with our desires and an anvil

in our spare time, we chase the the high
until our third eyes tells the three of us
it is way too much for us to handle

me myself and i, if it grabs our attention,
we will approach it with a purpose, whether
it be a person, wording or a purchase

none of which was intended to be perfect,
but deserving, why would the sea chase the earth’s surface if it felt that it was not worth it

-t.m

my silhouetted soul amplifies your light
i know you will bring colour,
like spring promises
when autumn leaves fall, euphoria rises
like church organs emphasising the praises

sun brightened decorations
on my pilgrimage, i found shalom
the kind of serendipity
that will loosen my ribcage
unfurling my stomach
releasing my soul into the open

seeding a flower
the joys of the intervals
between the ocean’s crashing waves,
earth’s air, and your glowing wingspan.

behind the reeks of feeling
beyond magic in the sand
where she was rooted.

a metaphor to me.
a guardian angel for god’s
mysterious creations
the sight of your gentle smile
as beautiful as catching a butterfly
in the act of stretching it’s wings

hearing your name
i sank deep
with shoulders too weak to even float

-t.m & tsii

you talk as if you sleep on flower beds
you told me a pointless conversation
is just a waste of breath
i'd rather hear your soft voice - instead
of being in this room with women who
hate each other's guts and look like death,
they talk about their friends which they hate and
down this moonshine until
they can't feel their heads

you look like you pluck petals and leaves
and that's the best part - your grace -
your heart is on your sleeve
and your soul is on your face
sitting next to you - why would i leave
as i know that there is no better place

-t.m

everything is everything, and
everything is nothing at all.
everybody’s obsessed until
everyone’s obsession finally
falls. blood splattered on the
earth’s surface, not everyone’s
mother will receive that painful
call. a cold body and an empty
stomach, not everyone’s mother
will be weeping whilst they lean
on their kitchen wall. to live as
a burden, and to die just as any
other human, not everybody’s
mother will miss their baby boy.

-t.m

slicing the surface of your sun kissed
face, i used to nurture each grain and
crevice that decorated your profile,
now i have created the insecurities
that dig through your hard skull and
crumble your layered state of mind,
only for me to sell your pure love
to the fairer man. at the time your
prostituting was said to bring me
wealth and status, but i now sit here
in shame as you have been *****
beyond repair. although i deserve
not a gram of forgiveness, i hope
my patriarchy and greed does
not undermine my apology

-t.m

a withered husband,
failed by life
tells me the story
that keeps him
up at night-

thrown in jail
for showing his face
in a white neighbourhood
after light

while he was being
waterboarded for
his tardiness, his
wife was being
sodemised by
men in uniforms,
trashing their shack
and leaving her with a
child with blue eyes

-he was left with
ptsd and an infant
that was birthed
out of a crime

he now awaits for an
apocalyptic flood
to take him out of his
grief knowing that the
love of his life went
through hell knowing
he could’ve protected
her from such demise

he now screams to
the sky asking his
cancer-freed rib and
his adopted son
who left him in this
prison - where is
his rope or knife.

-t.m

a sluggish but proud zulu man
stopped me in my trek to no-
where as my fingers searched
for a grip in the dehydrated sou-
thern sand. he held a leather-bound
book with the words “the holy bible”
struggling to stay embedded. befitting
resemblance of the seminar he gave me;
scuffling through testimonies and biblical
verses that lead into various explanations
which were suspected. i asked him if he
believed anything he had just said. he
confessed, he’d been questioning
everything he had memorised and read.
he guided me into a tangent about
his distain for the greedy and the
need for the restoration of his ancestors
land. i asked why black people get
massacred when we articulate our
desire for economic empowerment and grass.
he listed to me everything which he was
taught was wrong with the indigenous
people, which, supposedly, justified the past.
i stopped him in his own trek through self-hate,
anguish and pity and i said this to him,
“if you change the way black people think,
you change the way white people get money...”

-t.m

I SIT HERE DRENCHED IN THE
BLOOD OF ONE OF THE NATIVES.
WE CAPTURED THE LAND AND
HIS MIND WITH OUR ALTERED
EDUCATION, IT WORKED LIKE
AN ANAESTHETIC, OR BETTER,
A SEDATIVE. HE PONDERED ON
WHETHER OR NOT HE IS HUMAN
WHILE WE BEGAN PLOUGHING
HIS SOIL. HE AWOKE FROM HIS
DAYDREAM, TO OUR AMAZEMENT,
WE THOUGHT WE HAD HIM FOILED.
HE RALLIED HIS MEN, THEY DID NOT
HESITATE. I WILL GIVE IT TO THEM,
THEY ARE ARMOURED WITH THE BRAVERY
AND THE STRENGTH OF A THOUSAND APES.
BUT IT WAS TOO LATE, WE SLAUGHTERED
THEM FROM A DISTANCE, AND TOOK CONTROL
OF THEIR CHILDREN, WIVES AND MAIDS.
SPEAKING OF CHILDREN, HOW GOES OUR
SWEET DAUGHTER ROSE? I MISS HER
DEARLY AND I LOOK FORWARD TO
EMBRACING HER WITH FATHERLY
LOVE WHEN THIS WAR COMES TO A CLOSE.

UNTIL WE MEET,
__

- t.m

an ice cold stare, old denim jeans
suede and cotton tops - they all
feel like los angeles, another
guitar naps where she sleeps,
santana seems to pluck the strings
in her dreams; speaking of dreams,
a sweet man and pup named clyde
are the cast members in her
opening scenes, acts in her play
she would burn the whole script
for just to see

-t.m

frightening ways to end up in a coffin,
unexpected visits from the grim
reaper, holds you and i in
limbo, with the idea
that we take life for
granted too often

too pre occupied
moaping about the
past and sobbing about
what is to come. too afraid
to act on our dreams, only to regret
what was not said until our days are done


- t.m

“why do you give him those angel wings”
“well, he promised me joy and roses to smell”
“hell, did you receive any of those things”
“i can’t tell behind my cerebral prison cell”

“what’s letting go to pain”
“what’s with the spot test“
“why do you still keep him entertained”
“why don’t you just rip my heart out of my chest”

“maybe these questions are foolish”
“you don’t know how...”
“you seem to hold onto something ghoulish,
but maybe it’s not my place to frown”

“maybe it’s true; you can’t choose who you love
you can’t choose how the stars align
you can follow what your heart is in search of
i just hope there are roses along the line...”


- t.m

a livid whirl
between love is a family’s rage -
     a mother who’s full of spite
a father who’s mindset can’t be replaced
  so close, yet so far from love
i rip out my curls - her own thoughts
are contaminated with these ideas of hate
     the thought of what could be only
tears me apart and drives me insane

- t.m

a timid girl
seventeen years of age
her smile reminds
me of my mothers face -
a springtime swirl
green leaves dancing in the rain
a light drizzle, softening all
of life’s struggles and pain

- t.m

silence is not weakness,
nor are the sounds of acoustic
guitar strings, your smile is
painted with brushes of
sweetness, my heart awakens
to the bird who sings -
each word that you chirp glows in
the morning sun, then washes
away into those yellow lights,
many would anxiously search for those
sweet hymns when the day is done -
but i know each beautiful note sung will
channel the beauty of spring when
it is bright.

- t.m

the emotions ive received
are heavy on my well being
   all who seem to
provide these seeds,
are made of plastic and have
a difficult time breathing
the irony - they use the word
love as if it's a preposition
yet they move as if they are
the living dead who see no
worth in growth, light,
or feelings

i see past their perfectly
aligned paths, their facades
which are inspired by what
others deem as right - and
i see the beauty in the thorn
bushes covering your sidewalks
i see the beauty in your painful
walks alone, the roses in your
sunburnt face, the strength in
your smile you gave to me as
i walked by - i see how perfect
love really is in the way showed
me who you really were
 before you invited
   me into your life.

the emotions you provide
are as vivid as life itself
in my thoughts, by my side
- your presence in my life
feels more like a dream
then reality - and i find that your 
love stops me in my tracks
just so i can pinch myself

- t.m

what is a pigeon to a dove
as dull as paper mâshe,
you're confused by the way
he swims in the sky above
the sweetest chirps in the trees
end up as a sour parley
you saw yourself when his
feathers seemed white
but you see the grey when
it is time to part ways
there's nothing to lose
if it does not glow in the sun
he can fluff his feathers in the rain
while you soar in the sky
with your beauty and your life unsung
there's more to life
then flying beside a pigeon who's just
passing by,
there is someone
waiting to float near the clouds
with you by his side.

- t.m

wrapped up on green fields
and blue skies, cotton couldn't
keep us warm through the
wintertime, laughter kept us
active, barefoot on hard tracks,
our lives were consumed by
three-minute-rhymes,
our hearts all melted for
the same person, her name
was carolyn, on the brink of
adulthood, we laugh until we
are drowning in tears just
thinking about those times,
blonde days, puppy love,
wintertime sunshine,
the closest of friends,
the lack of similar
bloodstreams and
the difference in
our skin tones
will not change the
      brotherhood
   that will last
for the rest
of our
lives


- t.m

the question is;
do these stained glasses
hold any worth today,
when the idols are the ones
who are leading the
hopeless astray, is there
any need for another
illustration
when the feeling
from within comes from
above,
do we really need another
human to try explain
the feeling, when at the end
of the day, the human race
can't explain the feeling of
love

- t.m

the days of nazereth,
or the present
times in labarynth
feeding the people with beams
of light is only in vain when they are
wetting their own appetites,
not applying any of it into
their own lives,
singing hymns in church halls
only to go home and tell their
children a black man is not a
human at all,
inviting all who seek a new life
only to cast their foolish eyes
on a hopeless child who comes
inside, judging her past actions;
labelling her a ***** as she
questions if there is even
a god - and if there is - why believe
in one that harbours
disciples who would display such
a reaction

- t.m

face planted in the green
slow turn to the wispy sky
knowing peace is to dream
growing up is a gritty lie

memories dont blur like these clouds
there's no time to capture them
before the screen brightens, i dreamt
about sub conscious clouts

face planted with a smile
taking a piece of it is a slap to the head
tucking away my self conscious guile
drowning in joy until i lose my breath

- t.m

through the seasons you
would give up your time just
so your friends made it
through the day
you always
put a smile on your
loved one's faces, even if
it felt like an exercise
you gave up the lead roles
just so you could be every
one's jester, bells ringing
while the laughs echoed
you were always too soft
in your old man's eyes
too caring to hurt
it's okay now to shut out
the lenses and live life in
your means, it's long overdue
it's your turn to live in your
dreams

- t.m

why do we say nothing
  when you speak
there's diffucilty in finding
  the messenger
we see moses in blank faces
 many share the bread
but feast on the cheddar in duality
life to leviticus
 is as opposing as males to females
aware of it all
but we follow none of it
our idols seem not read the pages
 but we love what they portray
we scream for them on the sideline
but we freeze when
    we are in the light
  why

- t.m

i am not one to lean on
i am not one to believe in
i am not the saviour
why are you still reading
i am not the reason
i am not the air you breathe in
i am not jesus
don't crucify the words
don't justify them as one long verse
i am just a witness of a feeling
yielding and kneeling
understanding and dreaming
about heaven in the sky
i am guided by the holy hand
of a much more divine being

- t.m

why does the moon
steal the sun's shine
why do you recipicate your gloom
and hate it when we are all fine
you've searched for joy so much you've
forgotten how to live and dream
now all you do is search for acceptance
in bright screens

we found love when
we stopped searching for it
we found happiness in each other
in all of our faults and mistakes
in this film called life
we found love when we stopped
trying to correct the first takes

- t.m

at the back of a truck
like dogs wagging
their tongues
tasting the night
singing songs to
a sky that lacks the light
of the moon or the sun
tasting the night
a sweet taste of nostalgia
i know I will remember
these winding roads
and high rise walls
an atmosphere of uncertainty
adults created
we will remain naive and
young
until this music no longer
brings us joy and these
labelled shirts
we wear feel outdated

- t.m

sometimes happiness
doesn't smile
sometimes the face
of happiness is a
cry for help

sometimes laughter
is the soundtrack
to pain
sometimes a joker
is in fact going insane

sometimes your idols
are more then idols
sometimes idols are
just human
sometimes your idols
are more then idols
sometimes idols are
just human

- t.m

there's a bitter taste in cycles
a wilted face in walking down aisles
there's a lack of enjoyment in rituals
nothing is enticing
with knowing the preempt ways
of the physical
tradition feels abit too mechanical
nothing is exciting
in knowing what will be written
in your will
a life - having steps to follow
is a dance with less rhythm
a dance with movement which is hollow

- t.m

we don't know what sadness
feels like anymore
our lives are as golden as your
hair
blonde days, the summer
never ends
i feel through your locks
you lock your fingers into my
knotty head
as black as the nights when
we conversate
we know more about each other
it's only right that we remain together

for heaven's sake


- t.m

i felt your wings flap
above my head
my eyes are drawn to
your feathers that are
clothed by the golden
sunset

my eyes are set on
the endless blue of
the sky
happiness and growth
was all because you
let me hear your voice
in the wind
and because i let my
myself fall in love
with your blue eyes.

- t.m

i fell in love
with the summer
as i now know
what it feels like
for the sun to kiss the earth

the longest voyages
with shrubs and thorns
that try to derail
you from your path
are the ones that
lead you to something
that is of worth

- t.m

i was made to love her
throwing flowers at her feet
brushing her black waves
fixing her golden crown
comforting her soul
writing stale love poems
daydreaming about her
losing sleep thinking about her

i was made to love her

- t.m

time passes, things change
happiness comes, and so does pain
love and infatuation are mixed
but wrong turns were never in vein

what keeps me at peace
is the thought of seeing your smile again*

- t.m

i can't get this off my chest
it constricts my ability to breath
i loved you before i could ever confess
i spoke of you as if you are my belief

i speak to you
the way rain pours on roses
i adore you the way waves love the shore
a fresh breath of life,
you are a good omen
you are everything
i have been searching for

- t.m

am i worthy of love
words you whispered
in your lonesome hours
you asked me to read
your heart - a dying flower

he weathered your petals
they lay close to your roots
you tell me the sun will no longer shine
but i say
you still have the light of the moon

i say you are worthy of love
even when your life
has not given you any signs
where he did not cherish
each second spent with you
i will spend the rest of my days
telling the world about the love
i felt when your eyes met mine


- t.m

grainy screens, box televisions
animated dreams, analog missions
black fingers, fixing antennas
blasphemous winners, street fighter bandannas
tiger knee, tiger knee
finish him, 2003
brush cut years, empty front teeth
peanut butter sandwiches, green backyards
fingers in the soil, counting each white star
lights by the gate, daddys black car
mommys macaroni, dinner by the black box.

- t.m

i love the water
an oil painting of the ocean in your eyes
my heart gets warmer
with every brush of blue glowing in the
sunshine.

- t.m