the chitter chatter,
of the day,

are conversations of-
sun and rain,

that greeted the ground of,
this splendid rainy day.

Two eyes, 👀 see the world for what is,
two hands✋ to pray on bent knees.
Flesh of flesh, blood of my blood,
all those down to earth, raised from mud.

One mouth, 👄 speaks of my worth,
scent of desire tickles my nose.👃
Flesh of flesh, blood of my blood,
flow of words, will be like a flood.

Two feet, 👣 lead to where I'm meant to be,
one mind  to unlock knowledge is key. 🔑
Flesh of flesh, blood of my blood,
guilt tripping yourself, it's never been judged.

One soul, spirit full of vigour,🔥
one heart ❤ filled to brim of a caregiver.
Flesh of flesh, blood of my blood,
how we were created, knowing we're loved.

We're the images of God.✨

nature o so quiet and subtle,

these mountains are the only-
to hear a sound of falling trees,
all the winds are the last-
to touch skins of leaves.

nature o so quiet and subtle,

these woods of life, all it's
creatures are your children,
seed pods of their fill,
will hit the grounds and spill.

nature o so quiet and subtle,

these many butterfly kisses,
ladybug tickles, foxes all cunning,
prey all running, birds chirping,
as antlers ears alerting.

nature o so quiet and subtle,

you wear a dress to-
cover all your young,
as the mother of all.

memory wise of all the
girls I've kissed (they weren't a lot)
climbing every tree, tripping
and bruising my knees (I loved kicking rocks)

out getting kissed by the
sun's bright rays (it was so hot)
skipping bath time at five
o'clock for a couple games (I wasn't stuck in the house)

bike races down to the
next corner (I always lost)
playing t.v. scenes in real
life outside (I was always the cop)

what a time it was,
a time so long gone.
just changing by the wears
of life.

So I got rid of all my children's socks.

One,
Of the ways you call my name,
Are two,
Of the reasons I always stay.

Especially when three,
Of the times you kiss my cheek,
Has given me four,
Of the reasons to skip on my feet.

I kissed you at five,
Of the times we went out.
I think I have about six,
Of the reasons for my heart to lose count.

So I must be in love to be losing count.

pit, pat...
tip, tap...
tiny steps of children's play.

hearts racing,
the grass is split-
lioness has caught prey.

And,

As is the assumption for more to follow,
To compliment myself with a comma,

And?

Who expects more of me in the larger world?
Perhaps as it's addition to their cause?

And!

I exclaim to those demanding me of more!
Aren't I enough! As enough as the very word!

And...

I'll omit my contribution of...
Why even finish the sentence if all parts of myself aren't...

And:

I then quote: They want more of who we are,
but as just a word demanding more.
                                                         :End quote.


And,
be it more of me,
and that possibility,
I'll go on to find it on my own.

And on the stages of many eyes,
I yield myself not to perform,
Given an unscripted act of life,
It all seems unpredictable of our roles,
For the lyrics of song to your being,
Are only written words,
                             God's mouth formed.

From little handed, we shall seek increase,
Still with the multifold of riches we make,
Our heart's poverty shan't be at peace.

On these eve; child born of ******' womb,
A light of birth, to death and risen from tomb.

Shepherds behold, of the angels of their night,
Wise men behold, of a guiding star' light.

Behold child of glory, resting in babe' bed,
In straws he shall lay, of king' crown on head.

Behold the son of man where he lay,
The Lord Jesus was born today.

God,

I'm going to need a shrink,
living close to the corner where
that shadow lives.
I have a pound of flesh, a pack
of thoughts, and a bag of ****.

Every time I sleep,
I'm taking that leap,
About to take another risk,
whether this time I'll wake up
from that dream.

I'm in a shell,
in a deep sea of thought.
Swimming back to myself,
swimming back to shore.

My eyes are wet,
from that ocean dream.

We live under tears,
of a spirit' paradise,
in the force of darkness,

a cloud above of all fears,
tiny thoughts in history,

the past changed by present,
as it decides the futures to reside.

We are the dreams undreamed,
believers of things unseen,

great beings in our spirit,
only trapped in earthy skins,

Fallen short at our birth,
a black vein of sins,
but we're all redeemed.

We are strangers of this world,
visitors into it' reigns,
footsteps for children that follow,

As we walk in the todays;
for all our young,
to have a better tomorrow.

As we are more than skins,
bones, hearts, and brains;
in spirit, we are more.

As within soul,
there's a vigour of joyous growth,

though we feel less in this world,

In the realms far ahead,
we're all beings of endless more.

As with those favoured by stars,
Proudest titles of boast,
Fortune resting on cunning smoked cigars.
In themselves, nothing is toiled,
Famed eyes in our sights,
Thousand victories never once foiled,
Look at pride, by chest of host,
Frown on they glory of self,
As are the lovers of oneself the most.
                                  Fame is then a beloved,
                                  As only by a removed heart.

Emotions, ashes of a flame's love lit up,
Bones dry, with wettest eyes of desire,
Soils, eroded, vulnerable, and bare,
Bitter taste of sea salts under sands,
Vast nothingness in a wilderness,

Lips have longed a kiss, cracking and shaking,
A child in a womb, love grows till conceived,
Grass tips wait patiently for first raindrops,
Seasons of spring in a summer's winter,
My dearest love, I will fall for you,

Mud cracks played in, unafraid of stains,
We're wrinkled lines, of sin on clothes,
But sinners long for love,
And battle between lust.

'Follow your heart',
it's been split in two

'Follow your dreams,'
life made me an insomniac

'Follow your words,'
my actions aren't the same

'Follow your goals,'
I can't see the target

So I'll just,

'Follows  my lessons,'
not to make the same mistakes

'Follow my God,'
he seems to know the best way.

Love has been,

a peanut butter & jelly
love sandwich;

I went on to spread,

my heart & emotions
one side,
my mind & thoughts
on the other side;

And of course,

I was the one caught
in between it all.

Two fools
argue amongst themselves,

Debating whosoever
is the biggest fool.

A blind man listens
with his silly smile,
thinking to himself:

what a bunch of fools.
I can see the two fools,
listening with my ears.

As a seeing man's eyes
focuses on the trio,

His heart says,
a fool listening in on fools.

And the one above exclaims,
my children can be so foolish.

What do you think of me,
when I cry every time I sing,
When I'm so weak,
looking for strength in me?

How do you see me,
when I can't see myself need,
Looking to be,
someone in the world you can see?

And how do you love me,
when I'm only but a piece,
Going on to seek,
the greatest version of me?

I'm a tragedy,
but also glad to be me.

Interpretation,
is dependent on the
listeners ear to speech.

Ay man, you good?
A man, you good.
Amen, you good.

But if we're not willing,
to listen with a caring ear,
how do we fix this breach?

Leave me, a loan,
Leave me, alone.

Instead,
we stab at hearts,
with words of a spear,
with an annoyance disturbing
the peace.

But I told you yesterday;
and not yes today,
but I sat today,
and not Saturday,

I can choose the day,
and not Tuesday,
and I'm not going on thirsty,
but going on Thursday;

But it's just a day.

And finally,
to one's deep ear,
do you listen well to deep words,
or listeners only after
you've given a speech?

Praying for those,
preying on me,
or do I pray for a sinner,
and for their sin?,

Or prey for a sinner;
for their sin?

Prayer or preyer,
Dedicate or devastate?

Interpretations do depend
in the end

Twiddling thumbs,
my unresting nerves,
and obsession with
concern;

Sigh,
with shoulders high,
I'm so anxious in living,
this unpleasant life.

Sleep in between lips,
only for a kiss,
we both admit and submit,
to ignorance being bliss.

Hands on hips,
holding onto parts I miss,
under Christmas lights,
in New year's eve,
you're my resolution's gift.

A star above my head,
a lonely child's wish,
only a Lord could give,
lying in the courts of love,
a case put to rest by deceit,
when we argue and go to sleep.

To then wake up
and repeat.

In aforetime,

a beautiful day,
in the fall, where do tree leaves,
come alive in their spring,

all children out in the bent to play,
in a world of cunning-handed colours,
our toes well in the sun,
hanging off a tyre swing.

God painted us a dream,

the brush of eaves aloof,
as leaves blow in winds. Even after the rain,
we joyously rush out to play,
inside the assuage cracks of mud,

stained feet and a mother's complaints,
as was their display of love;
hearing them call brood to their bath.

God painted us a dream,

on the open wings,
spread open for us to feel free,
I can't help my remembrance of
such a wonderful day,

without a reason to hold onto money,
being okay in life's once okay.

The picture has now turned grey.

A tear
is but a drop in the ocean.

As pain
is only for a moment.

Nowadays,
people are quick to;
throw hands,
or be under the sun
throwing shade,

                              What a shame

Cotton candy;
of my sweetest dreams,
I taste whenever I fall asleep.

So splendid to be alive;
even in the sour moments,
of this treat of life.

All the shapes and lines;
taught the birds and bees,
the nestling of love,
and nectar of love's
pretty flower.

Life is sweet,
just a bite could tickle
anyone's teeth.

Find your peace;
and a piece of life,
to stick on your lips.


                       This sweet life.

I am everything
under the sun;

For the light
from above;

Shines within me.

Bright is my smile,
glaring to dark moments;

Bright is this child,
born to be a;
                    
                       Sun child.

Do not the ears of Heaven,
hear the heaviness in her voice;
the cries behind her throat;
the passionate tears of her soul;
And the echoes of a prayer's call?

Behind the closed door,
she's dressed with the Word;
shedding away skins of the world;
As she's then found to be bold.

She is,

whispering grieves;
exclaiming praise;
chanting tongues;
and reciting verses.

Baptised in Spirit,
covenant to faith;
blessed of plenty;
And a daughter of Great King.

Mighty is she,
mighty is He in her;
mighty is the strength of a woman's prayer;
And mighty is His strength within her.

Mighty is she,
mighty is He in her;
mighty is the strength of a woman's prayer;
And mighty is His strength within her.

Love songs inside the dark,
of all my misguided
thoughts;
wishing I could kiss you
in the dark,
for the taste of light.

My daddy warned me
not to stay up late,

But how could I,
how could I,

Not cry,
when the world looks;
so much better inside that screen?

My daddy never told me why,
cause we were too busy crying.

I hate social events,
but I'm in the club,
Where they're filling cups,
and throwing up,
Picking up,
and throwing love.
               Who had enough?

While I'm just sitting
talking to nobody,
Feeling like nobody,
drinking until I can't
feel my body,
My eyes are looking
for somebody,
to make me feel like
something,
When I'm feeling nothing.
              Small talk, has me rushing.

Everyone feels like a model,
holding an empty bottle,
With gas in their lungs,
about to hit the throttle,
Kissing their friends,
and fighting couples.
                      I'm about to *****.

I'm feeling extra single,
don't know how to mingle,
with sharp words at the,
Tip of my tongue like a needle.
                  Turned off by a lot of people.

Smiling for my friends,
the one's who misbehave,
Going on a rave,
wanting to go to jail,
Drinking below our age.
                   We're not the same.

Lord forgive us,
for one night stands,
Breaking heart shells
like these peanuts,
We know a lot of those girls,
might actually deceive us,
It won't matter when she's
getting the business.
               Just to feed a *****.

I'm still antisocial for the event,
dragged in by my friends,
When the party began,
God, I wish it would just end,
Spending our weekday bread,
I just want to go home to eat,
and watch some series on my bed.
                      But I'm out here instead.

So if you see the tear
in my red eye,
I'm sad and really tired,
waiting for someone to,
bring up their violence.

Conversation,
are my greatest fear,
I seem to know how,
to only sigh,
Just as,
I've always been wired,
Quietly,
watching you,
Driving the night crazy,
without a licence.

                               And I'm just antisocial.

And as a child;
I was so lost in my
dreams,

But as an adult;
I've lost all of my
dreams.

Skeletons trapped in
the closet;
trying to pick a bone,
I'm feeling so lost;
or maybe I'm just
feeling alone.

A book inside your eye,
reading pages of your history;
been working on your body,
And living unemployed;
acting like a grown woman,
kissing pretty like an
Innocent girl.

I should take a picture,
just to capture your heart,
cropping out all the issues,
put all emotions on record;
Skins made of golden brown,
so I can taste it's worth,
and my car seat still remembers,
you sitting there, with
all your skinny curves;

Kissing, like I missed you,
grabbing on, like I own you;
But you were never my girl.

Thinking by luck,
I could get a ****, to remember,
a feeling right before,
you go on to hit a long road,
to the places I'll never visit;
Less when I'm going shopping,
a couple Christmas gifts,
long distant kisses, and
all of those future wishes.

Betting we'd miss,
our own wedding day,
skipping the after party,
for another after party. Leave our
guests dancing, grab a piece of cake
just for the extra cream;
So I can eat it,
with you in between;
And call it our perfect wedding.

African child,
we were in love for a while,
living in the moments;
the few tears, and many smiles;
We said our last goodbyes
over a long phone call,
and it's only now,
they ask about you and I.

I'm praying you find better,
and find that perfect guy,
waiting for you, like I couldn't;
And I'll smile for you,
even if it hurts;
Clap for you,
even if it hurts;
And congratulate you both,
even if I can't find the words.

I'll be so proud of you both.
As we all gain something,
when we let go.
African child,
you made me grow before,
during, and the after of
when you were my girl.

                            A thousand thanks.

I am the whisper in nights,
of those made silent;

the echo of tears,
of all gone dry;

the champion of wars,
in all battles lost;

the memory of all,
now long forgotten;

an endless belief,
lost a reason to believe;

                           endless am I,
                           endless is hope.

The world is full of
smiles;
switch the letters,
but also so much (SM)
lies.

We are a poem,
written on life's
page;

The words;
daily lyrics of
feelings;
emotions,
experiences;

As creation,
was the pen;
and God the poet.

So I got robbed
by my shadow last night;

           That's pretty dark.

I threw a steak at a girl;
that's a tender way to meet.
But I got beat with a
hole in my head;

       That's an empty thought.


And she broke my nose
so I couldn't smell;

             Her intentions.

I told her she
was pretty sweet;
and was offered a piece.

                  I bit off her lip.

And I was told;
I belong to the streets;
that's really funny because
I won't allow anyone to;

               Walk all over me.

I don't think she got
what I really meant,
So to seem concrete,
I went on to buy her a bag;

                         Of cement.

Yesterday,
I lost my cool;
writing a surprise exam
yet the test was;

              Such a breeze.

It gave me food for thought,
but I kept on complaining,
because I'm still hungry;

                  And want to eat.

And I laugh so big
at my own jokes,
because I took humour,
and added enormous;

             To make it humorous.

I am the sun
in my eye,

seeing bright smiles
of beautiful people:

solar flair of hope,
wide spread in an instance:

a reflection of light,
from the great above;

                A moon child.

How to describe the third person,
In third person; while your eyes are
Still ******, to the world' curses:
Who says we're too different, as we
Feel magnificent, but indifferent to
Their efficient, who aren't so innocent.

But we stay vigilant, to feel certain.

Ring, ring,

Goes the call to my head,
Asking if we're heading in the
Right direction, when we're in
Over our head. Could it be red,
Could it be read? To title myself
An open book, as Nowadays it's,

Either bled or blend.

A Cinderella without her feet,
Would she in the end find her Prince?
Or would she be stepped by step sisters;
And each other's many conflicts.

I'd still watch that flick.

A Pinocchio, nosey for the
Smell of flesh. He'd tell a lie,
To get under a dress. But how
Long would he reply on a lie;
To seem like he could impress.

I'd enjoy that, I must confess.

Or if a Snow white, never met a kiss,
But instead remained fast asleep.
Or never really needed a Prince.
But a huntsman, to guard herself,
By teaching her his survival tricks.

That ending kind of fits.

But why do we use made up
Fairy tales, to ferry well, on the
Endless waves of life, just to sail.
We never really measure the details,
Because we're too busy weighing our
Problems on a broken scale.

Pinheads disguised as a nail

Don't miss your step in life,
You could be close to a misstep.
Who'd forget a first cut of a knife;
As you're always on the cutting-edge.
Thinking little of moments, but what if
That little moment had it's last breath.

You'd cherish every little moment instead.

Finally,

Poetic flow, in my pen
Is always a river of words.
Seems to grown into an Ocean,
As you can hear the Waves and Birds.
Smelling the scent of salts,
Weighing heavy on your hearts.
Drowning in my deep thoughts.

Hoping to cross,
To meet the end of my pen.
But perhaps the end is the source,
And the source are thoughts,
You follow along in due course.

A pen of flow at the water's edge;
A building wave,
Prepare yourself for what's ahead.
Ahead of the tip of my pen.
As I don't write words of boys and girls,
This pen held by ten thousand women and men.

                                 The Pen's flow

This pen is feeling heavy;
Writing out this weighing letter.

Writing my lyrics to the Heavens;
wondering if they'll get the message.
I won't waste on pretending. It feels
Like you've blocked the entrance.
Often you seem to forget us, as the
Devil is always out to get us.

Given a shorthand,
As it feels little for change.
And it's so sad, what you have left
Is out for game. As we're out for
Gain, straight after we call your name.

My off thoughts, in odds of
Dreaming, screaming in my head;
While battling it's demons. Deep
Thoughts, and their sunken eyes
Inside my hollow pit in my skull.
Trying my best to seem calm, stuck
In the depth of my head, as I won't try
To pretend. In it's dark abyss, a rose
Inside a grave feels more like a
                                Pretty death.

Chest beating, my emotions themselves
Could be bleeding, or leaking.
On this paper I pen wrinkles,
And leave so many stains.

I'm a tyre swing, tired of it.
Rolling over to a newest trend;
Spinning in the wheel of life, going
Round in it's constant circles, as
Everything in it tries to hurt us.

Could you point me out to a purpose.
Showing interest in my life. Truly
You could make a prophet. And let's,
Word out our blessings, instead of
Counting our losses.

I do hope you get this message.

Sincerely signed;

A child down on Earth,
Looking up to Heaven.

Am I low-key;
or is it
being lonely?

So many hanging
thoughts,
a weight on
my heart
feels like suicide
with a rope
around it's arteries
as I think heavily
to balance
the weight
I'm not thinking straight.

We're rocking Sunday best
for all of Friday's events,
Calling everyone Auntie & Uncle,
without any of the relations.
       That's how we were raised

Calling some a boss,
mostly those who didn't
even once employ us.
We don't get angry, we just
tell you, you've made us cross.
       That's how we were raised

The adults talk of old days,
telling kids to go outside & play.
Stuck at afternoon tea party dates,
Feeling shy when mums come
with a purse lunchbox;
To take home some of the cakes.
         That's how we were raised

Taking selfies at funerals;
the same adults you never met,
Say the used to change your diapers.
'Don't you remember me,'
that statement seems to be the usual.
         That's how we were raised

Raised mixed in a world
of so many pretty colours.
I got the spice from my mother,
the pride of my father,
And the division from forefathers.

Fitting in with the blacks,
seem relatable with the whites.
But we're not always the same;
if I'm facing the true facts.
       That's not how we were raised

But how I was raised
is never going to change.
With age, you learn to accept,
And for the next-generation;
start a better story on a fresh page.

The depth of the ocean;
feels shallow when we
both jump straight inside.
As it's tears make us cry,
when we see the bluest sky.

And with a spray
paint tan of a smile,
It peels off to pieces in
the Sun's glare, on
the walls of your face.
A child lost in a store of
life's advice, soon
after you let go of a hand.
The united shoe laces,
and red eyes,
pretending not to cry.

Love is too heavy for you to
hold, even on the shoulders
that rests the entire world.
In the songs of anguish,
with unassigned chords.

Chewing on your tongue,
to swallow all it's words.
As all you said was in vein.
You felt hidden under the skins
of a plastic face of your nerves.

You and I, try to find ourselves,
as we lose ourselves ever more.
My mind and I are mislaid,
and lost to thought.