I took the script tying to save it with knitted words and stitching that are grammatically smothered
all over the wall of dead poetry.
Line for line it looks like the healing will never be done in time.
The heart is missing multiple veins and arteries while the kidney is swinging in and out of life like
that swing in the public park.
Blood vessels stringed and cringed as they gasp their last from the few drops they can get.
The intestines are tied in a neat little bow as if they are a bow tie, tying down the stomach and
waistline as if it is a fitness belt.
The skin is turning pale from the lack of oxygen inhaled by the broken nose that was smashed into
the skull when it fell to the floor.
The throat cannot swallow because the tonsils are swollen like birthday balloons ready to pop as
soon as the situation is gloom.
Body hairs have disappeared like the cancer in remission for a minute hoping things will get better.
Vocal cords cannot say a word as they are held hostage by the mute who has them by the throat.
The ribbed bodyguards are smashed wide open as if they were a strike from bowling pins.
The spinal cord is in a spiral as if it were a spider up on the wall.
Reproductive parts are firing blanks as the ***** are netted in the top corner by the best striker in the
world.
The blood shot eyes are the sponges that soaked up all the blood that is supposed to be channelled
through the vessels.
The limbs are spread all over trying to hold together the world that is so apart.
The brain is splattered all over the canvas hoping everyone can get a piece of mind from this art
Jun 3, 2022
Jun 3, 2022 at 3:27 PM UTC
I write the words that you only imagine and never speak of to another.
Writing between the lines blue and white one page at a time.
Write what is right at the right time so that the art can rise from dark to the light.
Write the right to be right to write what is right so that it is used on the right night for the knight to shine very bright.
The knight holding the pen writing right now is the knight in the shining armour.
I write to those who write out what is right instead of using voices to make a noise for those who write.
Writing is a skill that once grafted all you will want to do is write.
Write for those without the voice to say what is right.
Write to those who chose silence of the pain just to be alright.
Write for the child who cries to his mother for growth and not torture.
Write for the girl who is murdered in the corridors where she is suppose to be most guarded.
Write for yourself so that you can keep on writing what is RIGHT.
Jan 22, 2020
Jan 22, 2020 at 12:57 PM UTC
We both told each other everything except for the one time of how we died.
Remember back when we dived into an ocean of lies that strung us together very tight.
The high tides of the Atlantic were fantastic everytime we ran away from detention.
In order for us to get fresh air we had to hold each other mid air hoping the parachute does not fail.
How I wish we faked our deaths so we could escape to the Capes where our Mothers hoped we would elope.
We are in-separable as the Atlantic and Indian oceans everytime we swallow it to keep our bodies adrift from the dessert we deserted a long time ago.
Wow, how I miss you everyday even though I did not get the chance to meet you my dearly departed Sister.
Nov 5, 2019
Nov 5, 2019 at 9:57 AM UTC
All along I kept it under wraps for the wasps from the veld.
Their senses of smell and taste were the real denominators of ruining my case.
I tried my best to keep the silence but things were turning out to be a ****** mess.
Oh yes oh yes, how could I miss the simplest things.
From the moment she walked in she suspected something was amiss.
Tisk tisk tisk.
Of course she was gonna find my black list.
Fortunately I erased the single hint that could give it all away.
Gladly at the end of the day everything worked out perfectly.
I ended up Proposing to her ;)
Jul 31, 2019
Jul 31, 2019 at 1:22 PM UTC
I remember telling you about the time I lied.
I was telling it so well I didn't even stutter a single line
From time to time it became more of a rhyme never ending time
On and on like Badu not realizing I was the fool.
Until such a time not even wine had a taste of a simple glass.
It wasn't until I had a dilemma of being faced with the same lie I once told when I met you and I .
Jul 31, 2019
Jul 31, 2019 at 11:41 AM UTC
As I sit behind these words of mine, I flashback to the time when I didn’t even know how to say hi.
I live an imprisoned life of words that are known and unknown.
I wonder if I’ll ever escape this self-imprisonment.
Guess I’ll just have to be a mute then.
I am tired of uttering lies from my cell that hurt people that I love.
Come to think of it, there is no one that I hate.
Dishing out my words on a plate I wonder who just ate.
My teeth vibrate every time I talk nonsense.
My tongue curls in when I speak out of place.
My eyes roll back when I’ve taken too much word crack.
My stomach grumbles because it cannot take such ***** rubble.
Is this why I tend to fumble?
Whenever I’m around correctness, I feel at peace with my presence.
This puts a smile on my inner essence.
All my senses jump for joy whenever I feel heaven.
Wow, I feel like a kid again, who just turned eleven.
Guess heaven is so great that it makes an adult feel like a kid again.
All praises go to God.
For he can turn any odd situation that try to lead me to separation of my ambitions.
I love it when I feel like this; I wish I could feel like this for all days.
Every day.
Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 9:36 AM UTC
I loved you when you smiled.
I loved you when you cried.
I loved when you spoke.
I loved you when you opened your eyes.
I loved you when you were weak.
I loved you when you were strong.
I loved you when you were *****
I loved you when you were clean.
I loved you for your heart.
I loved you for your mind.
I loved you for your style.
I loved you for your hair.
I loved for when you said hi.
I loved you when you said bye.
In the end, I still love you.
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 6:16 AM UTC
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
From dusk until dawn.
I will always miss you in the morning.
From the first yawn, until the last yawn.
There will never be a same morning.
As I live every day with caution,
I ask that you give me the eyes of warnings.
I ask that you give me the hands for soothing.
As my life is craving for greatness.
I wish to rectify all my mess.
Let my deeds give me no stress.
As I walk on this broken glass.
I see myself clearly in a broken mirror.
Why can’t I see myself in a good mirror?
I am however thankful that my imperfections
Make me a perfect human.
As I make mistakes that I learn from when I’m young.
These words are beginning to take form in
My tongue.
I am however that different human.
Who just wrote his eulogy in poetry.
As hip hop artists would say this is another regular
16.
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 8:04 AM UTC
As my feelings quote a note. That is inspired to drive the last tear inside you. As my feelings quote a note. That provokes you to stay on that road not yet foretold. As my feelings quote a note. To your dear heart, that is apart from tonight, she took everything inside. As my feelings quote a note. That rose from a fire to be on today's headline. As my feelings quote a note. That will not keep quiet in the loudest equalizer of life. As my feelings quote a note. To those reading this note, open your eyes and float.
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 10:18 AM UTC
Another one lies, guess it has to be fine by me. Another lie sets the hopes and breakage is the result. Another rand spent on hopes that are just in the mist. Another day spent in the pent of disappointment. Another lie which strays on the hunched back on a young old soul. Another lie which draws a smile on the weary accent that sounds soothing like cold soup from the oven. Another lie that sits on the tongue of the weak, the strongest hides in the shadows of doubt. Another lie which a diamond lying in the dirt is worthless. Another lie which accomplishes an escape goat that runs faster than a cheater.
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 10:16 AM UTC