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Feb 6 · 152
It's decided
Today I decided you would be:
just a memory.
Not a dream I will see, whenever I look forward.
Not a regret that haunts me, when I look back,
Simply a memory;
not a weight to be shouldered.
I have picked up the pieces; I'm overall intact.
carry on luggage: one I'll, soon, unpack.
Letting go of an unesssary situaion
Jan 31 · 255
Rain, rain, don't go away;  haven't been promised another day.
Wisdom with age
Jan 29 · 567
Self serving
‪petty and selfish,‬
‪The path to peace, no recourse.‬
‪I have no remorse.‬
I'm aware it's a petty precarious peace... but peace none the less especially when she stays out of reach.
Dec 2018 · 184
Why stay: absentee?
Why return; to leave again?
Keep the peace: away.
Dec 2018 · 301
I play with the switch‬
‪turns the light on and off‬,
‪The shine; my soul‬
A weeds confidence.
A heart; strong as a boulder
mind clear like a stream
I make myself so happy for no reason then stick my own back,
melancholic acts of treason, cut and measure my own lesions;
a line between pleasure and pleasing.
Not an pessimist nor a type of optimist but a realist who has mastered the execution of delusion and illusion.
Oxymoronic, Guess I'm just human;

Apparently the semblance of a god,
so making something from nothing isn't odd,
but I was given everything from a soul to my bones, hair to my toes;
Even to me who stays in this, sinew and ivory, home the reason is unknown but I know the weight of this form has its toll.

Ties made are rarly cut
more than the material is used,
bonds spirt imbued,
that which feeds hate and love.
My soul is the ocean my form the soil my mind the heavens so it's wisdom guides the toil.
What I put on to my body will seep to the sea, be it poisons or ointments that is to be seen, my wish for foresight seems obscene,
a noxious tint colors the scene
Ah this is but a show, how else can I explain the tragedies sown.

Who wrote this play?
Who paid its commission,
who conscripted us to suffer, no need for permission, no fine print played off as a simple omission?
Actors with no access to backstage
so it is do or die,
freedom in a cage,
the 4th wall blocks our eyes.
we get no reactions for our performance
no real feedback,
so we face our troupe like opponents, for no real reason.
Whilst some seem to flourish in a limelight others perish in darkness
some disappear through trap doors others fly with out harness.

seasoned thespians sometimes show us a way; how to perform our parts, from when they entered the play.
We are told there is a script, so I would say some have forgotten thier lines
but honestly the script has never passed these eyes,
all I know is that somes voices are drowned out by the soundtracks of anxiety and sadness;
The polyrhythms of fear and deafening sound of loneliness and madness
How could the director have this?

That's the purpose of a tragedy; make the watcher feel like they are living lavishly.

Wanted a reason why I find it so tragic.

In the words of Life 'There, you have it.'
Slam tracscribed. I've been reading some tragedies and re-realized that fact can be truly worse than fiction
Oct 2018 · 317
Calling Sol and loving Luna
Sol oh paniter of visions, curator of those under your light. Your passion is easily confused with fury and your momentary absences are known to be a time of danger and chaos
Basting the blessed and decimateing the ******,a infernal bliss.
General of the soil, those born from it follow your call under you they toil. maestro of the bloom and birds their harmonious notes in the air ,smelled and heard, from the plains to the berg but at the coast is when that celestial sovereignty ends.

Enters,a vision, Oh Luna; soft yellow dipped and dyed in the honeied hues of the horizon or a radiant alabaster, stark and chilled. cut from the heavens, apart of the city resting on that which scratches the sky but only visitors in the sights, you Nobly looking over. Teach me as you are, not as they say ,cold but ever observing seen every day.
You the Choreographer of the waves they dance by your direction, beautifully and brutishly birthing rainbows from their violate bombardments, for the birth of Brilliant ideas they have been the midwife.we lose and find ourselves in your teachings

Raising higher as you we age, as one should, on the path of the sage.
Stayed by the sea for a few days and got to know sun and moon a little better
Sep 2018 · 128
Time flies, you are lost.‬
Time flies when you are driven.‬
Time flies, regardless‬.
Life goes on
Aug 2018 · 256
Time is _____//the trust
Old debts have been paid
Love has subsidized the pain.
Heart; open for trade.
An affirmation and a plan
Aug 2018 · 2.2k
A student of the crowded breeze.
On a whim Raise like the dandelions' seed,
Vibrantly dissent like, in fall, trees' leaves.
An apostle of purpose beyond what one sees for the unknown is nothing and possibility.

Our lessons are on the topic of practical whimsy, in their way; the wind that cools your face also fans a flame and guides the rain.
The Sensei go by many names, I know them from the roles they play:

Boreas shepherds my turmoil,
A tempest;
senseless, cold and violent as if without vision only vengeance.

Notus shows my passion;
A gust to an ember on dry land,
Unreasonable, unpredictable and destructive without a plan.

Zephyr entices my love;
A subtle intimate current for dance,
The beauty of birds and bees flying from flower to flower and branch to branch.

Eurus reflects my way;
A flurry that moves the sand.
The removal of sediment,
the return to foundation born from action mixed with patience.

They can only guide me
I can ride the winds of the odyssey or resign to the winds of dreams
but I know
I Am
A student of the breeze.
Boreas- the north wind in Greek mythology associated with the storms
zephyr- the west wind associated with spring
Notus- the south wind associated with crop destruction (end of autumn)
Eurus-the east wind the associated with opposing Noctus and autum bounty

looking for a new muse to learn new things about myself through someone true to themselves
Aug 2018 · 545
Interim (to?) peace
This is a new page.
Empty;Deep Love and woes fill;
The former is me?
Fresh start same games but different play that is the sentiment don't want to say anymore
A love that will rip it's self apart if not told whats enough,
end up doing too much but better that then us losing touch. I believed but now
I know, I hoped to bare the weather, prideful, no idea what was is tow: rain,sleep and snow.

A love that was free, turned selfish, my minds on you and I can't help it.
Inhliziyo I have no faith but patience and loyalty so your silence can only annoy me; but when you tell me what's good I make you laugh like a jester and I treat you like royalty.

Funny because now I was feeling like booboo the fool. I need rest, You Just look on when
I sing my song are you deaf-


wait This can't be true.
This can't be you

-No wait-

this isn't me, been blaming you a lot recently. we haven't been on the same frequency, We're  always up and down, that's a sine.
I need to disconnect and clear my mind.
haven't had time to meditate, now that's a lie.
I always meditate when I'm silent, write or rhyme.

I do this a lot, darkened visions from the burns and cuts I got, know your not one but I've taken a hit more than once,it wasn't fun, but It had to be done.
You are worth it, a crown but I can't make it right now.
I want to grow with you; Like a tree bares fruits not only flowers, fickle,it looks beautiful, only, in daylight hours.

Let me be wise so I can handle instability,
I learn more about myself for my own sanity.
I had let my light dim not dealing with every thing that life brings.
I had a love for you that was starving because I wasn't truly loving my self enough, that was toxic like lead but now I'm clutch.

No need to write in a rush, but know
I'm sending love
Had time to think whilst not distracting myself with her glow whilst we grow(up). Planning on making this a song
The title is a play on the  words it can be read as :decent love as in the ideal Of Love, dissent Love as in toxic relationship hurting each other over misunderstandings in my case Or the sent  love meaning me reaching out

In my 'trip' series
May 2018 · 293
Haiku 30/05/18
My timing is bad,
Like a death of a loved one
Seems selfish, a far.
Suspend your disbelief but when emotions are high foresight is low. Revealing my pain to release my chest. Never belligerent
A halo's weight: Heavy.
Unbearably bright, blinding.
Power is a Lens.
Standing in piety. Power is just a lens augmenting what we see and how we see. Think of the relationship between celebrities and thier fans
May 2018 · 834
Passions of the chosen*
Behold the my face, so serene, I'm every part of the scene;
the crucified, the prosecutor as well the chorus.
When I breath my chests cage shows gaps ,the focus.
Here you are again my parade of pestilence my imbalanced state showing as ailments.
My sides tearing, stress penetrating my skin. Tragic,
Oh how the spear of reproach entangles and dives deep,
Piercing my belly and lets it noxious poison seep.

I beg 'No please do not twist', he then spoke of my dying dreams and loses to the soul.
The knots bind my thought and any move in conciseness has it toll.
The darkness strives for my sight but he knows how to not give it room.
The poisoned tip barley nearly missed my heart , I thought it the end, I relaxed too soon.
The tincture of doubt burns my open sensitive soft non-flesh.
Am I not one of the blessed, where is my place of rest?

The jury spectate from its pedestal, good for nothin but blaming.
His aim was never my life only that which makes it worth living.
His aim was the spark, my soul, the light at the end of the tunnel showing it all, so you don't stay down when you fall.

The earth knows me from My hands, feet and knees.
I rarely pray only spoke if it preceded an action, I fell a lot you see.
Now I walk with caution but my legs can barely take the weight.
My breathing and steps were heavy. you wouldn't have know my pain by my face
This has been my truth I believed it fate.
Early I realized wherever I sat was a throne.
Hubris led me to take on the woes and faults of the world as if they were my own.

The jury clamor great hollow truths, to lessen the sentences existence.
As much as they are valid and grand I see them only as excuses
"You will pain those who you love and love you"
"You will forsake the hopes and dreams in your view"
"You are good, only want the best for everyone "
Was it that ambiguity that lead to my current "wrong"
Seems if you aim to give others happiness you will never win
I know this but I still hurt: it's all starts and ends within.

Woe is me
Been on the darker end of melancholy, A discription of my anxiety/depression attacks recently
Just another lonely bright Dazzled night in the diamond city of the land of gold.
The seasons change feels like a lamentation the autumn wind has never been so cold.


Thought these metro lights blinding but I still see your name next to the moon in the stars.
The city's fluxed and curved silhouette,
Spectacular. happy to look, haven't seen you on these streets without occasion like a vintage car.


I wonder, Were we moving too fast was it the pressure?
our chemistry had me at my triple point; fluid at times, solid for a minute but heated when we're livid. Aroma like therapy that's why I'm with Mary more, now that you're not near me.


Used to be nothing but a product of jozi. a chubby hot boy plus everybody knows me. Well only my role, never my name Ilie man all ways had dat more fiha that's  what I was told. Not innocent but I have a bright soul.


It was easier when I was apathetic, I could fake smile, greet enemies like "sho, Fede". the me of yesteryear would snark at my weakness now, but my sight has changed lately.


Realize the higher I go the more balance I need, yes, these changes involve you but they are all on me.
A spoken word ment for a performance that never happened due to changes which is ironic. did most of it riding through Sandton . Includes a few South African/Rastafarian slang words such as
Jozi-short name for Johannesburg, South Africa
Ilie man- a man who is sacred/blessed/sanctified
Fiha- good marijuana
Sho, Fede- greetings (my)guy
Hot boy- a young illicit substances distributer

The Train of thought has a direction and many stops, when you're melancholy, but you Learn something at every stop along the line.
Each stanza has a sporadic rhyme scheme to show the sporadic nature of thought
They slumber in their stubbornness, they, alone

They have seen their brethren and extensions lost to the ebenflow

All that is left of themselves is what has not been lost or given.

They have shielded the meek since they left, the safety of the waters, to the bountiful yet perilous shores and banks.

A foot hold for the scenery and possibilities a fort against the storms and heavens tribulations.

Shadows cast, air guided

To be left, alone, I have to leave all I've known or Is known.
I think me a star when I'm only dust.

I try sympathize and synchroniz not knowing I is the disconnect.

I wake in their home surrounded in my stubbornness now they think me my own.

Dust for the young monoliths to grow.
I was in a valley/ canyon in Mpumalanga the air was clear and a storm was a day away.
Medicated and meditated these are some words I remember
Written In a way the stanzas look like peaks in a range.
Mar 2018 · 226
Empty space
When facing escape
A Door leading out, one fears.
Nothing you have known.
The devil you know right ?
All I hear is you are comfortable in hell/naraka when the void(possibility) is a step away. Do not fear change for its existence, like death, it's an inevitable and necessary function. Read the italics and know a truth
Mar 2018 · 287
Why are you searching
Do you truly want to know?
So not to miss out?
My generation and social media
Do you want to be better than yourself or the best ?
Do you want to know your strengths or their weaknesses ?
Learning beautiful words not to adorn but exploit
Mar 2018 · 337
Phoenixes tears fall
Burn, Like fire from the rain
Power in weakness
It is said it's tears can heal all ailments physical and ,most importantly emotional
Mar 2018 · 276
You-in-verse/ draft letter
Eyes deep and dark as if linked to the primordial abyss,
It was as if " " could see further than the blank faces of truths and lies
It was as if " " could clearly see what is and what is not.

Voice commanding attention like the horns of heavens army and as soothing as it's zithers, " " lips its succulent strings.
Body as bountiful as the late harvest " " delicacies just as sweet miracles when " " legs part blessing falling from my chin to my feet,ceremony a Thanks giving for this decadent feast.

A self, if I don't help , watering flower blooming how and when ever it sees fit.
Passion like the sun, radiant and all illuminating but tempered by a mind like the moon on a still pond, while it seems grounded it's true home is in the sky amongst the stars.
It's a draft of a letter
Feb 2018 · 192
What are we truly,
Specs of celestial dust.
Kin to sun and stone.
What really matters isn't material, most of the time
Dec 2017 · 333
Spoken: What is heard
The adornment, gospel truths the pious believers of your personal faith. The Heresy, the voice of those you’ve ******
Spoken: That which can not be taken back
Your frivolous certainties had no hold but now frame our reality because they are always in the peripheral only seeing what it allows you
Spoken: half truths
The victimized, the wronged, the offended just to validate unscrupulous act to those who have wronged you.
Spoken: White lies
The coddling which breeds an ignorance for the knowledge of decorum, decorations and vails to hid behind
Spoken: That which the universe asserts
That which the universe listens to, vibrations that it assimilates making it part of the whole without losing its agenda
Spoken words hold power far beyond communication
Nov 2017 · 229
A bow too tightly strung, now shaking, because of a notch and arrow moans like the creeks of wood; quiver as I use your quiver. now release
Bisexual poem
Nov 2017 · 144
Coocku bird
Building wings of wax all because you know not the beauty of your own plumage.
Dazzled by peacocks jealous of their colors when you soar like an inky raven
Oct 2017 · 288
Haiku #57
Slick, Drip, damp,drop, moist.
Thunder jealous of your groans
Lightning, of my strikes.
It’s about ***,not storm gods
Oct 2017 · 165
I once heard that art is most beautiful when imitateing life . I never understood this; imitation infers a falsehood, a lack of authenticity. Art can only be what it is, unapologetically,It can’t build a facade.
I ,the one who is deemed alive, lie habitually to those around me and worse my self.
I am a performer playing the part of least resistance and greatness propitiation. Solitarily contemplating a collective I want to both develop beyond the horizon or envelop in the flames of a star.
conundrums are the base of these self destructive edifice. Best escape is outside of self, either on the wall in the air or on a shelf.  

Now who imitates who,
When One feels most real imitating art?
not sure if this is a crisis or a metamorpheus
Oct 2017 · 157
I know you?
Are you the end, severing my potential?
Are you a end, or are you a beginning a apathetic agent who clears the way for the new?
Am I old, or have I done what destiny prescribed and you are giving me a pen for a blank canvas for my own tales?
Aren’t you the gate keeper, the one who welcomes those to the starless lands?
How can I write anew tale at the end of all tales, do I need to? there is no light to show my glory no light to revel my despair
Ah, you are death.
A poem; a bout, the acceptance of death
We fear you because of your necessity but heed not the toll of neccesity on you.
You are the owls ***** in the night.
The solace at the end of the longest and most periless of trials.
To know about you is to fear you but to know you is to love.
you are my friend and the last I will ever see.
I know you?
A poem about death, a miss who's misunderstood
Aug 2017 · 261
semblance of a valley forest on fire
Cascading black ethereal smoke in shapes of bouqued flowers, impurities purged in the crucible that is my rampaging thought.

baked browned clay surrounding the fluid paths to the ocean or is it to see?
Its peaks and crevasses the features one can see but the bellows and songs of these dancing mountains and volcano are what one remembers.

Rumbling moats, you can't see the fire but there is smoke. Ebony trees which sway ever so slightly in the breeze both a crown, a symbol of majesty, and masculine pedigree.
A portrait that can only be drawn by gaia when I look on to this visage all Ndibona ikhaya.
Ndibona ikhaya means "I see (is)home"
Playing with imagery
Jul 2017 · 267
I know I'm cumbersome I know i can seem like a test
something you need to overcome the one bad apple in your basket.

I know i doesn't meet your expectation. This world doesnt meet mine either.
the very air seems to be suffering for anxiety and reactive depression, understand, its in the ether

You know I'm an apathetic empath, felt every kind of woe
know life's too short always being sad, all i can do is wait see what life has in store.

I identify with nothing but myself, no delegation
Now all i know's is love no hopes no segregation
no disappointments because no expectation.

i would do the absurd, accomplish the impossible to have true joy.
radient like a triangle carried by birds,
I Tried to fool the system like the horse did troy.
Messing with pronouns and nouns
Wrote alot while i was in the dark too scared to share those but this is when i first started seeing a light
May 2017 · 227
Unwanted Known knowns
The unfathomable abyss gradually expanding, as if to go unnoticed, yet it's intolerable constraints are ever shrinking. What is lost in it is rarely found by most; its creations, detrimental tools for the lost and weary.
Those who know its mark are in dismay but those who have yet to meet it are the truly pitiful because the longer one is nieve to its modus operandi the deeper your dissent
Really not a poem more of a obvious riddle
Nov 2016 · 315
Lullyby//10 word
Tired of being Awake and Sad, least let me sleep.
Aug 2016 · 299
More sudden than melancholy and sharper  than angst .
Can't be hidden by folly
More depressed than a 2008 bank.
Jul 2016 · 476
Links in the chain,if they fall away when time sways then they play no part in the ka-ching.
Jun 2016 · 564
Nez boy//Chronomentrophobia
You've been with me from the start,  
Our distance couldn't be shorter but we are so far apart .
I miss the times we would sing for no reason.
I miss our poems written almost by our feelings.
We found happiness in the compositions of our plain
but looking back I'm clearly not the same.

The world is hardening me,
It broke my dome protecting my reality.
I lost the trust, the bank is closed,
Even in lust the lack of love shows
Because for one you need the other.
Injaka turned  into strays
my brothers, I now call them cain
But how was I able?
I was their dawg...see now I had no seat at the table.

I'm  confused I don't know what to do,
I know it is because I'm losing you.
Want to go back to the old days so we can do it the old ways.
how are we in the same place but I can barely rocognize your face?
The cities lights dazzal my sight
The cold numbs me on these city nights
The monotony is draining my will to fight i see this when i think "What would i even write?".

I wonder how you'd feel if you could see the new me.
I do know one thing I  miss you,
the old Manezi.
Injaka- south african slang meaning  friend  stems from the word inja which means dog

Losing my self
May 2016 · 287
Haiku #20
I am who I am
I can not Change what can not
Let me be me,please.
May 2016 · 271
Solution//Haiku #22
Are you Discontent?
If Disconnected from world,
Please discontinue.
Mar 2016 · 341
Haiku #16
So this is longing?
I did not know it hurt so,
Well at least I know.
Feb 2016 · 632
Question #2
I have a question? What do you see when you look at me?
A man, ***** hair, that I'm black,my croocked smile Or my poetry?
I see ,when i look upon others, an empty room ,A new plain of existence just for us two.
I say room because of the mental constructs that are divisions
Its not I'm me and you are you
It should be we,banded together just to get through,
Our lives.
We differ by so little,
Why we make the small contol us is a riddle.
I have a question why do so few know of the moors?
we don't know ourselves that's why we feel we need more and more.
Why is it when we try and impress others we are frantic,
But when I am proud of my history I'm afrocentric?
I'm not pro any race unless you are talking the human race but even if thats the case the problem we face is that we feel like we are in a better place then those who live on the same plain,same world, same pace.
The animals the plants we all come from the same soil and look how we've been spoiled with abundance but that does not warrent our decadence.
We have to destroy these  edifice
Errected using false truthes,  fear, blood and sacrifice.
Why is so much hidden
Why is the topic of civilized color forbidden?
Why do you have to be better?
Who are you trying to be better than?
Where is the quantified data?
Why can't we just be human?
I wrote this to vent. Had certain encounters with people which showed me this is still a problem, race. i don't understand why people dont learn more about themselves and others before making swinging ignorant statements.
Feb 2016 · 476
Physical pain? Emotional pain?; All the same, one is for now the other remains.
Dec 2015 · 273
Haiku #12
Like ink on a page
You are paint on a canvas
You, a masterpiece
Oct 2015 · 418
I've seen my life form a birds eye view
So small, so mundane , so insignificant.
I've viewed others lives ,moves by cues,
Hollow emotions through the daily regiment.
These edifices hearding us on the road of repetition and mediocrity
We are a species with amnesia,
What truly has changed since the era of Socrates?
We have only learned how to live in decadence and leisure.
We have weapons of mass destruction
Falsely reasoned as mass protection
We have fast foods but still people go hungry.
We repeat our mistakes again and again what is that? Insanity.
A kin to 1+1=2
If we do not change we are doomed.
When those in power forever pass the buck
And teach us how to
but are angry when we do
What the ****
Procrastinating whilst in need of revolution
Making problems that have nearly no solutions
Outdated tuition
Weak constitutions
The line between order and chaos is hazy
What will you do
"We leave the rest to you.."

Be honest you are just lazy
There has been a lot of controversy here recently with the universities and fees. seeing how we as the youth banded together and how the generation before us has acted during all this gave me inspiration and this is the result.
Oct 2015 · 436
You guided me, you showed me a world different from the plain I had existed in,
You showed me my own twisted and tormented visage.
Sensei you were my light, your radiance was blinding,

But I saw it,

The abyss you left in your wake the ones left with no way to see,
Their eyes left useless,
their steps chaotic,
their hearts empty,
their minds in ruin.

Sensei this was your art.

Thisis is my name and now this is my domain

This is where I am king.

Sensei why do you look so pained?
addiction it becomes who you are.
Aug 2015 · 277
Some time//now
It's been some time since we were "in love",
But the feeling I ha­ve for you stand on truelove.
It's been some time since we saw ey­e to eye,
Buts these actions are the same to enter the sky.
It's ­hasn't been that long since I felt your
But when you felt­ it I could see you didn't enjoy it much.
It's been some time since I saw you truly 
But to be­ honest no one has seen mine in a while.
It's been some time sinc­e we supported
each other,
But now ,at the edge, we will balance ­on 
one another.
Aug 2015 · 554
Haiku #9
I'm an observer,
I'm both within and without.
I see all your masks.
In the mist I remeber in the shadows I learn into the crowd I observe
Jun 2015 · 580
I do it so I can feel pleasure,
Searching for battle, ***, and treasure.
I take them to be numb as a rock or light as a feather.
They say slow down ,will I? Ha Never.
I ride dragons and keep company with the green lady.
I love this girl because she never questions my fidelity,
I abuse her, burn her on a pire as if for witchery.
Her name is Mary.
I have no god in my pantheon except Eros,
He goes by many names ethanol, E and blow.
He saves me from monotony, its nagging like a stubbed toe.
He runs the world like a ring master at a circus show.
We are lions being whipped and taunted
Because to fill the void is all we wanted.
Another part of my muses series on lusts addict family member hedonism
Jun 2015 · 555
A suffocating love
I love you.
I want nothing but the best for you.
You love me
But you just don't want to be hurt by me;
Your passive aggressive threats,
Your unwarranted mistrust of me,
The constent questions, the tests.
Love is supossed to fly and be free,
But all I feel is loves firm grip on my throat its talons digging in to my very soul,
Bleeding me of my empathy.
Am I in this love to fulfill a role?
Is this now my reality?
I'm cracking under the pressure
My psyche beaten and bruised by your ups and downs.
You say "this is a love that's forever"
I smile at you but this smile hides a frown

I love you but it feels like it needs an -e and a -d
because I don't want the love you give me
I can't take much more of this

Poem in my muses series
May 2015 · 308
Haiku #8 (10w)
Now I am "okay"
It can change without warning,
Emotions are fickle, I learn this everyday
Apr 2015 · 842
Lust, pain, depression, lose and love are my muse.
lust's passion which knows no bounds frees me.
pain's intensity and relentlessness push me.
Depression's depth, which out class even the sea, teaches me.
Lose like a loaded gun keeps focus and flashes what is important to me.
love with its fickle sway like a new flame ignites my page for all the world to see.
My muse are not new they are not uncommon they are rusted and jagged but they are the pillars on which all life and poetry now rests they guide us-
No they control us.
What is your inspiration?
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