I prefer to sleep all day long
You see, keep my eyes closed
Than stare at this multitude of ants
following the taste of something sweet
Where are you? In a hopeless dream I had
as I wallowed in the bitter reality
of your absence..
your absence..
your absence..
I will live to dream you are here
darling,
I hope those ants keep away from you
Lest you be bitten..
Lest you close your eyes.
-Tina RSH

Never arrived the day I could call you by your sweet name
and hear it echo through my soul
Or let the sound adorn every inch of air
Every weary day casually strolled
by and by bleached my hair
Never arrived the day I could pass by your house
and await a signal that you are there
It is unfair, and very unfair
That I know not whose arms stole your attention
from me, your devoted slave with no redemption
Never, Never arrived the day I could die for you
and prove that fools as such can exist too
I continued to live an ashen life till the end
Never did you love me back, never old friend! .

Truth is, I have never touched your skin
Yet I've dared to fracture all limits
and grip your soul, with no fists
But a heart, and a heart alone.
It carries all of me within.
And endless space for your soul.
Be mine! I'd have liked to repeat that over
and over again.
If you wouldn't vanish like a whisp of smoke
and reappear in another corner of my being.
Do you hear that hoarse voice in your dreams?
Hoarse, having blown away each cell in each lung, calling your name?
Do you, my dearest, echo through your worldly shape
So fast as you travel through all I have left begging for devine destruction?
Oh by and by I pray to meet your eyes once more
I crave and yearn, humanwise.
So I bid you farewell, till we leave this form
and meet, as one, unminimised.

Walls! Walls! Build ten thousands.
Wolves, Wolves on their way
Wolves without a prey
Blindfolded by hunger
Drink your tea, water the flowers
and go build walls!
fortify your chest with ferocity
for a fight tooth and nail with the foe
wolves! wolves!
Ready to consume your heart's nectar
and get drunk.
Wear your armour and hit the road
Vultures fly close to your head
and wolves are on their way.
Drink your tea
and keep your sword at hand.

No, poetry is not written in books
by scholars. It is etched upon
Lips that shape the sweetest murmurs
and bellow bare bitter truth
frantic as a madman, poetry
Held up with bra straps
and masked beneath an underwear
Hot, Succulent, lavish
Just that feminine, poetry
With all the morons who aim
to grasp it through stories
of a man and his lost love, poetry
is windswept hair and hips in motion
and twilight tears that flow like an ocean
poetry, with its complex simplicity
is a woman who reads bible in a *******
and wears bubblegum skirts to funerals
Tasted, embraced, kissed, licked, felt,poetry
can never be read..or understood.

Tina RSH

Baby I pray you find peace among the broken pieces of your mind.
That which you claim to be whole

I pray you never have to torture anyone's heart
To console your own tortured soul

I have stuck my love together with glistening tears
and bear you no ill will at all

Sweet baby of mine, I pray you heal
from the black pain you projected on me like nightfall

Be safe baby and I pray you find peace  
for in the cage of your heart there's a door to release.

By #TinaRSH

You come to me in hunger
preying on my flesh.
I nuzzle your weary feathers
Now they feel robust again
And fly you high to the sky.
I am not your food dear.

From whose eyes shall I reclaim my lost self?
While it is you,old love, that their eyes reflect
Your words having me well under curses and spells
Telling of slippery youth and the world's defect

whose rickety mind shall I enchant to distort
To revive the shape of you again, my sovereign?
You stabbed my back and now I have fallen short
of welcoming hearts of realms distant or foreign

The night is an ill bed for my jagged scars
But I doubt if my dear self was stolen by stars
You sailed on my tears and sealed my lips
And I promised to desynchronise your warships

As I was busy cleansing my tears off you
I knew forever gone was a half of me or two

Let the child breathe and the warm air flow
This tragedy needed an end, we were too young
To shoulder a battle devoid of arrows and bows
Pity our play, meant short, already took long
We lost precious blood to tie up a loose end 
Rewritten distorted meanings of sadness and pain
Bitter Loss over gain so we could make amends 
We fast fed the pain, all we felt left, the main
Let the sweet lemonades drain and burn away 
We played possum to ourselves and died for real
What killed us was a trick, what kept us at bay
Was the solidity of death that couldn't be healed 
Yet, by some misfortune  I kept an eye open
To see these corpses walk every now and then. 
 
26.10.17

Trace, Trace, trace! Give me a trace 
Of his charming scent that once blew my way
And lounged on my nostrils. 
I have been blind ever since I lost my eyes 
To his spectacular sight. 
Grace! Grace! Grace! None has his! 
The midnight intruder trespassing my mind
A dream! He too feels.
My solitude is unholy and he is the Saint
To break this curse. 
Embrace! Embrace! Embrace this shattered heart
That once belonged to a zest chest 
Since I'm too cold to even move
Envelope my soul and carry me to your heaven. 
2:09 AM 
Tina RSH ©

I guessed, an end would arrive
and take us all to separate graves
Not at all brave
from the scratch, we were scarecrows
repelling parakeets and sparrows
till, a stranger gave us wings to fly
high above the graves
Shared,or separate
and ends
Off guard, unforseen
We then bounced back
to the scratch
all too befuddled.
And lived as one, as we'd always been.

They spot an armful of red dots run along the thick skin.
Of forelorn hands, heavy smiles, of a body not so thin.
They say it's the rash of youth, healed over time.
A layer of mind, peeled and wrapped around a repressed crime.
Perhaps they live a saint's life and all die as Gods.
And we go to hell as jokers. what are the odds?
I cannot unveil the piercing daggers, what they see is only tips.
I am to plant a kiss of life on my own lips.
Since drought has empraced my aching heart,
I ***** blood each second, live, but fall apart.

My throat clears out a path 
To leak a stream of infidelity 
I cannot seem to swallow
 
But Someone might have put
A ten ton catastrophe in my chest
Or blown a black balloon, big and hollow 

With no catalyst can I digest blind eyes 
To the truth I gorge with my heart 
To the secret pain in which I wallow 

Be it a poetic nest, or a loser's hole
I escape the demons who run the head
And let my nightmares run shallow

My blood is sacred for it waters
the burning drought that surges
the barren outskirt of my skin
It ignites the grave of every dead muscle
killed for shooting a wide toothy smile
across my unquivering lips
It tells long forgotten tales
of all the women I used to be
but failed to see,with eyes shut
vomitting tears of self disdain
and a widespread rash over my skin
My blood is a red flag of relief
from a heap of decapitated veins
and the sardonic cold inside each *****
Every drop, a stifled scream for help
a pitiful plea to be noticed
And a scar-let seductress
waltzing across each arm
In the fading light of room
and the dying music of my heart
but my sacred blood still shines
it spills like barrels of wine
down the outskirts of my barren skin
and from each tiny particle
rises a woman that says "sacred"

Once a stubborn streamline
through solid eyes of a stone heart
now beaming to the cracked heart of glittering glit
broken china
torrents pump out of unadjusted dreams
once clear and aglow
once for a reason battling
now battered war veterans, each
oh my shattered existence!
oh my evaporated blood!
Those lips of sincerity
which blessed soul is to kiss
and rob the truth away from?
O my wretched flesh! Speak
And tell of the fractured bones
countless nights of moon watching
and sun hugging awaiting his scent
that never arrived.
Burnt burnt throat of mine
and rapturous moments of his.
Aye God! Send justice.

Those elastic hands
having but coupled a river of tears
and wisps of yielding smoke
to begin with
a life
unknown and unblinking
like a pair of dead eyes
and play pretend
or pretend to play
for watery dreams
and smokey must-bes
and ought nots
somewhere in line with a broken smile
and a misty sense of senselessness
a spinal cord snapped
so did million daggers shoot out
from each vertebra
tears flooded out of her ears
and smoke forced the air
out of her lungs.
She turned away from the dread
so she could rest her head
on soft shoulders
and yet
none could bear ever the weight
of her sorrow.
Now both lungs dead
eyes closed
lying on her bed
she carries her weight with a finger
and carves out eyes on her forehead
she swallows light to linger
forever in her chest
as a heart
nobody would give her.

Slightly ajar 
The door to my soul 
Before, Slammed shut! 
And now shaking hands with illumination 
All too well do I smell hope 
Blowing with a gentle breeze 
Towards these feet that carried no zest 
All too careful do I listen to this heart 
tantalisingly tickling  my ribs
And seducing my chest with each move 
Up, and down it swirls. 
An invitation to a play of life
Renouncing with each breath I take 
Eternally I do not exist 
But for now. 
The wind is soon to pass 
Over the greenlands of joy
Oh how too sweet it caresses my cheeks. 
And makes love to my eyes. 
I could give my soul to you 
And leave the door open 
Forever more..

When I was young, I fell in love with a little bit of despair.
I thought we'd be happy together till he wrecked me beyond repair.
I fell off that bold chair of success, swooped from the sky.
I had it all and now it's gone to pieces I have no clue why.
Alas there's a sea of "whys" in thirst of reasons and "fors"
And my beloved despair breaches into my heartcore
Like a sword deep dipped into the chest of a battlefield
He goes through my youth and whatever I have yet to build.

All gone now
and you're nothing
but a wound
cracking open
at 3 am- unsolicited

-Farewell, my beloved! Is there a farewell at all?
Every kiss you blew me
was a kiss goodbye
Every inch of skin
that caressed yours
was a vow
I bestowed
to love you
forever and ever more.
And the wine in my veins
says shut up! He's gone
And the cigarette smoke
takes you away from me
And all these men I toy with
they are nothing like you.


I've missed the train
of my thoughts
I sit back
and gaze at them
from afar
taking you away
I call out your name
but there are no words
I am stuck in nirvana
or else-
in sheer garrulous void
without you.

Who opened this wound anyway?
I'm sure it was open
from the scratch
I just couldn't feel it
bleeding me away.


Only a caress away
but I'm a *****
in your eyes
a ******* ***** *****
with no feelings
I can defend
my dignity only
before the strike
of midnight
that breaks my heart
spills my ***** feelings
all over my face
I love you
but it's dark at this hour
and you're too ******* blind.

In the beginning, there was skin
fresh, soft, unblemished, unnamed
bound to be clad by blooming blue rose
baby bud bearing but thorns in its heart
Drifting along to kiss every inch
of that ****** beauty with grace
And there came the first scratch
Thirteen drops of blood
A drop of tear
And a full stop!
Congealed blood! Evaporated tear!
In the beginning there was no scar
but a tender rose to teach pain
pain with all its notoriety
and calamitious cloud of nothingness.
scars tiptoed towards the chest of skin
Now nourishing, naming each narrow path
No blood, no tear.
Thus, as a woman's womb gives birth
to hold up this tipsy life,
pain is a must.

Pearls keep descending from the sky
Rocks so taken over by the constant tedious attack of waves
with their greyish hue
and fierce fists
The abrupt slap of time
The thunder's wheezy cry
and the pending of a rusty boat say
the boatman's approach was due
but three hours have passed.
The bank is retired
and the moon burnt sands retreat
into the heart of ocean .
sharks feed on fresh flesh.
in awe of a blue tang's suicide note
My lover and I are sailing to the moon
to hunt down stars.

Yes! She was me in a way or two 
She suffered from inadequacy 
A pink rose who wasn't sky blue 
In terms of beauty speaking,
She didn't have enough palms to hold attention
Her eyes no ocean to push a lover through 
The girl I killed was petite and serene 
khaki trousers ,white  woolen pullover 
Timeless words,‎ her mouth full of God 
She was a gifted, gifted scene in daily deja vu 
I never saw her from what she was 
I never breathed her breath or saw her cry
Instead, I destroyed her habitat, I cut her mahogany hair 
I cut her tender voice through 
I killed the girl I knew 
In a sense, I've killed myself dozen times more ado
I lost the girl who whispered : I am you.

Tina RSH ©

Like resistless air torn by a bullet
Life unmasked itself in a baby
innocent, playful, illiterate...
for half a second or so,
and ran!
Past Mother who, amazed by your giggles,
called you mon âme!
Past father; arriving home
to say goodnight,
and a quick wave before bed.
Past school days and holidays,
taught to eat books and ***** information
lost through thorough knowledge!
Aye! Aye! Black cats and red eyed bats.
Past the lustbird who made love
to your left ear and slammed the other
shut!
Life passed your very black hair and set it white.
Seems like the bullet hit sharp in your chest.
And now a baby cries bald..

The delicate delusion in each moment
There is, the trick of life
imminent omnipresent agony in each living system
Human, or human not.
We are bound to break.
We are bound to suffer.
Till the truth taps his mask off
and we drop dead in dignity
Still blind, burning.
So what of it now?
Aye, dear life?
Our skeletons turned to dust
Our hearts no longer beating
What was this mascarade all about?

I wish for the monster to be hidden
forever, lest anybody else be bitten
as I am, but that is no matter, la!
my blood succumbs to its venom
my ruptured veins and invaded serum
His black hand draws a smile on my lips
It takes a second or less until it flips
into a torrent in my eyes to wash away
every happy feeling I had during the day
But what if someone counted every scar
sustained and found this little girl bizzare?
Let the sleeping monster lie and never speak
outside this verse, lest they call you a freak.

I tread on faith
and face my maker,unmasked and ruthless
with the sad hat of the mad hatter on
Where is my little apple?
I did not ask to grapple
with griffins and Sphinxes
to win eternal wisdom
I am the poor wretched hag
hard to grasp or fathom
from the nearby village
who had but a slice of bread to devour
Where is my apple?
Somewhere in the depth of a valley
or at the heart of a volcano?
Are my broken wings supposed
to cease fire or fly higher than the sun?
Give me my apple, pampered idol!
And go boast of your majesty.

Those derelict dead
ends of the soul
that bear mad
houses on their
shoulder,
All Nazis who came
back from the war,
the war that killed
sixty million cells
in their brains.
They came back for
love, put roses
into their guns and
shot like a madman.
There they dwell in
lonlely lonley
cells,
Within their own
boundries
Ceasing to feel
life pass through,
As the starving
walls hold out
their hands, for
the food that was
never given.
Tina RSH

Endurance through unknown chains 
Wrapping themselves around each bone 
Making any move beyond possible
A catastrophe to breathe,
In or out; no attempt! 
Made by a swollen chest! 
Your heart, about to explode
From the guilty pain 
Caused by your brain
These chains clank and wriggle
Around your very throat..
Breeding warped words 
Out of your mouth 

Your damaged womb 
Of priceless pleasure
Copulates with heavy burden
Passing onto old wounds 
The emergence of haemorrhage
From lips that could smile in bliss
And kiss...

With no proof 
That life exists 
Beyond that shared moment   
And you..
Still in self made chains 
asking for some justice 
None can give.

Jealousy is more than a word
It's a thirsty pain
That rushes through my veins
To drain each drop of blood.
Wnen I see the pillow that escorts your head
The bed that embraces you in your weariness
And the lips that form a heart-robbing smile.
Jealousy is strange.
I wouldn't wish to have you split in two.
One for me and one for you
I want all of you
Living inside of my chest.
It has a way of making me become you.

Who said it was meant to be a straight line?
Tiptoe, crawl behind illusory fences
in pursuit of deceptive safety.
Caution, and caution more!
Till it bores the death out of us all.
We might well stand tall
and bounce back, or forth as it goes.
And trip over a brick, collapse and call it fate.
Who said it's a running race, or an empty song?
Who ran the road and came back to tell us there's a prise at the end?
I wished it woudn't be a lose lose match
between us and time.
But it sprints on and we drive this car back
to the scratch.
All the more alone we both become.
We rise and fall over sharps and flats
and forget it's the piano that plays.
And the musician knows to music
no ending is valid.

I was an unshaped sculpture, wet, raw and transparent.
As is death behind a fallacious smile.
I knew nothing of intemperate stars
That appear every night, And fade in a matter of hours.
To reappear on a nightly basis.
Till there is no night anymore.

Perhaps my vision is blurred
For all these packs of little gifts I receive everyday pills.
Pink, bone-white, orange and blue.
Wherein witches, no singing, scream lullabies to my ears.
But so does this world seem to fade in and out
Till there is no night anymore.

I look for lost meanings in a rose bucket like a life-long challenge.
I look for drought in children of the sombre clouds in my neighbourhood
That lay on the storm-beat shrubs as midday approaches.
To cover up the clumsy repetition of early mornings.
But oh darling! One day there is no night anymore.
Flirty gestures, handsome men and outbursts of tears
Will turn to ancient words in hardcover manuscripts.
Through which we continue to live a dreamlike life!
Dispensed from life itself and made to live in a glass box.
Transparent, still, with ****** reeks on its windowpanes.
And the blood stains remain, till there is no night anymore.
9.02. 17

Once uopn a time, a lonely loving rose
bending with the wind, gentle in each pose
The meadow was green, and the sun aglow
Not a sign or gesture of pain and sorrow
Parakeets would sing and the rose flushed
Till the weary winter brushed past with a rush
And she stole anthems from love birds
A sigh was the last sound the meadow heard
young rose with all its roseness fresh and red
cut with its roots haunted as a captive held
To her doomsday she hauled, past a willow tree
Past that feigned majesty she was ordered to be
What about the blood ****** off her petals
Our mushy rose beaten like heavy metals
Soon she whispered to the cold ears of winter
What of it now, and passed with one last whimper.

Navy blue tip of the brushstroke cleansed my eyelids of a black miscelleny
Of eyeliner, mascara and heavy black pain hidden behind.
Whatever in the world it takes to be a woman
Standing upon a pair of daggers dipping in your feet, your pretty feet
And producing a rose red, sun bright smile to all who wish for your downfall.
I realised it was night, long hours of pretence for sleep.
****** burden Recalling my woes, buried in my head, in my throat, to life. Now sore and deep!
There is more than sufficient oxygen in the air, yet I can't breathe.
I'm tracking every star that might fortell a happy fate.
Whereas it fades and leaves me to my own certain doom.
Whatever in the world it takes to be a woman.
To wipe away your own tears at night.
And fall back to sleep.

You go through void like a dancing Cliff
Bold,having nothing to latch onto!
In your highest highs tasting earth with gratitude
And yet you dance through and through.
Watchful of the background and vibration.
The mother and the child too.
sorrow came and washed away
All you thought would stick like glue
You cried and laughed along this wave.
You watched you could take nothing with you.
I know for a reason you paused,
Extracted the pain from your pocket
And sold it to the Sunbeam.
And you rode each wave,beaming, without a clue.

The beauty of life is
hazard turns to malaise
and sorrow takes over momentary joy
A subtle means to destory
eternity with all its glory
and **** the hero in a happy story
oh life is far beyond a tragedy
Easy to mourn over with a requiem
or a second chance for sins to be redeemed
It is the omnipresent alchemy
through faint traces of a raindrop
and a rose that wasn't meant to die
life is tasteless truth inside a sweet lie
That mother death will take us with her
Her promising voice never bitter
Oh but not all that shines is glitter
Life is you, tied in a loop of rusty chains
Forever willing to bear the optional pain.

This is where I stand.
Intrinsic beauty in each drop of tear
that splashes my eyes.
Pride in my unclad figure
like faith in a benign tumor
Behold the majesty of surrender
as I severe ties with a talking mind
that feeds on attention; evermore
Since I stand,free of giving.
Behold! I no longer am
the hands you can shake
or the lips you can kiss
My peers envy those tears
they cannot cry.

Tina RSH

If insanity is a crime, I am on for a death penalty.

If dreams belong to a third world, I am definitely not earthly.

If man is to partake but in all societies, I doubt my species.

If hearts are closed to love and close to feud, I am so hollow in the chest.

And if it is truth everyone claims to own, I am most certainly a liar.

I creep towards a flicker of light
No sheets to keep me from the callous cold
My bare flesh introduced to the February night
Transfixed by the light, my eyes swim and glitter
I rush away from the old creaking bed, away from that shell.
Where he gifted me memories of dust, dark and bitter.
I flee my partner in crime, my everlasting disease
As he fast sleeps, ready to make love to my brain
But I rush and feel no rush between my legs increase.
Stars wave and a bird flies home, I sigh in relief.
For I too go home, somewhere under the sky.
As I smile to spring away, I sense something in disbelief.
A pair of hands gripping my arms and neck.
Just to believe it was over, oh heck!

Let us get out of
this augmented
little world
Mankind was
solitary from the
word go
Creating a roughly
meaningless charm
It is meaning I
yearn to seize
beyond this verse,
more so
When words fail to
paint the void I
breathe
As I watch each
moment pass away
I sit grieving for
a year or two
Before there comes
the unexpected
sharp dismay
And subdued
undefined
melancholy.
There is air beyond
my lungs
And love in the alr
And infinity in
love.
And meaning in the
dreams man ceased
to follow.
Tina RSH

I asked God his majesty wether I was worthy of the breath
That comes and goes warranting no continuation
He asked what I would gain over a sudden death?
What dreams I yet had unfulfilled, What sleeps I had yet to sleep
To let the weary night beam in relief, and the day twirl
in the excitement of awaiting fortune, and to take a leap
toward the untamed sun, for a heap of mercy.
He knew all I had deprived my sight of, to flee like birds before a bear.
For life in all its solace is no forebearing, but erupts in discourtesy.
So I embraced an eye and kept weeping
for the breath in my lungs was worth keeping.

I have long desired a night undisturbed
full of sleep and coherent dreams
but that the sun arrives faster than light's speed
leaves me wondering
if there is ever an end to the war
I battle throughout weeks, months,
and years and years on end
After all I am easy to bend
like a daisy at the hand of storm
sways, unyielding, entrusting the wild current
of passion that breaks her back
I strike a match to see with blind eyes
how far this night, intemperate, will extend
And who shall have removed my footprints
when dawn breaks to swallow
every secret I whispered to this dusty road
and crushed beneath my feet
They say day is a neat deceit
for those who believe black is evil
and I hardly think it untrue
with stars ****** off their shine
to magnify the glory of darkness
when my body hits the matress
I can feel it quite as it is, darkness
but in no shade of beauty or grace
as if I never had any stars to sacrifice
with love their inborn proclivity
there indeed is no sincerity
in the way I am deaf to the sound of dark
A Beethoven masterpiece, the starry night
Such starless of a night this life has become
Or is it that life is still there?
handsome and fair, with his head in clouds?
My pinstriped eyes fail to glimpse in a crowd
the warmth and glow of this flame
of dark, this grand grand enchantress
Behind prison bars the war goes on
with no light to clear the mess...

I open the wooden door to my derelict mind
To see myself crawling on the wet playground of dreams ,‎
Where I have dwelled in, ever since you left
I clutch to an old photo of you that broadly beams 
It seems, as though millions of years have passed 
The first furtive gaze into your almond eyes 
The piles of midnight letters I could never send
Oh darling! Love deep buried in your heart lies
Like a dying ember in the arms of an antique fireplace ! 
I trace back to my past, when I had you close at hand.
My foolish mind devoiding the agony of your absence 
As for this tyrannical solitude I had never planned
I stand on a deserted island fenced by a sea
Of swimming monsters, that aim at my very soul
They, in quest to bite a piece of me ‎
And I, in the depth of this dream,roll and roll...
~Tina RSH

Like the footprint of rain in the gaze of sun
The ghost of a torrent, now has come undone
Woman of beauty, barely 22
This woman could be me or could be you
Feels the depth of earth like it is her womb
This nasty world of men diggin' her tomb
What a waste it is brimming with bliss
When your noose's disguised inside a kiss
Love comes and it goes, just like the wind blows
She falls in love but here come its woes
Woman of beauty, barely 22
This woman could be me or could be you
Sells her heart to strangers and thieves
Numb in the chest, She's no breath to breathe
Like the footprint of rain by the edge of shore
One moment she was and then was no more.

Tina RSH

You are there-
At the heart of existence
Crawling in memories
Surging inside the branches
of my aortic archway
like a cascade of wastewater
sending the last bits
of exuberance away
into exile.


You slither beneath
a pile of hopeful dreams-
the rash and folly of youth
Their hearts ripped apart
by your front fangs
Your voracious tongue
splashes my depth
and dips its venom
in my flowing pith-
pleasure. .


So you are there!
Everytime I look for breath
in my creaky chest
but find only cigarette smoke
drifting away from 'your' lungs.
There's a glow at night
that of the firefly in me-
I guess, or the end
of your seventh cigarette
I cannot tell.

Nobody sees you these days
But you are still there.
I always sense your mischievous fingers
and ecstatic half-open eyes
a moment before I realise
You are really gone.