Are we there yet?
One foot from the brink?
Are our backs flush against the wall?
Can we break through or break out?

Cast in the wrong play,
Of life,
Terrible scripts,
Of impoverishment;

But in a parallel reality,
That young mind on cheap highs,
Is a brilliant entrepreneur,
On a low key.

She picks up and smashes my old cell phone,
Ears ***** at every text and ringing tone,
Naturally drawn to ones and zeros,
And excited by every four-gee and byte stream combos.

Ofcourse not, mister!
Everywhere your position may take you,
Even your power, too,
But not for the wiser!

Your empty refrains are hollow,
And your dead promises, too,
You do not have a clue,
Want to bribe tomorrow?

Heaven, it's raining gifts!
Tired after working all shifts,
Dog, will do it in lifts,
Never stalling between gearshifts.

Boyfriend, husband, father,
Bae, hubby, daddy,
You may call me freddie,
To me one and to them the other.

Sticky night, power out,
Always been that way,
But during moments of brightness,
Children cannot help but shout!

Oh, what disappointment!
To get to  my destination,
And you quit on me,
You have abandoned me;

Baffles me, truly, it does,
Out here in the cold,
Alone, with the elements for cover,
To have believed you, my lover;

Tears deeply into my recesses,
A place devoted for worship,
Sanctified only for you,
But now, what will I do?

A million idiots,
Are more powerful,
Than a billion eggheads,
That slept on their senses.

And what's there to be happy about?
Executive stupidity on heartbreaking display?
Immoral Legislative senselessness on constant rotation?
Or Judicial frivolity transfusing decadence all year long?

Everyone's created equal,
The law is no respecter of anyone,
Build that bridge, tear down that wall!
You're entitled to anything you've won.

But who will bell this monstrous bush cat,
Gorged on the sweats of the lowly trodden,
Whiskers curled in the till of a million poorly afflicted,
And claws on the jugular of the southern dark lady?

Can't take it all in!
Too enormous to handle,
If you must ram your bundle,
Then slide the **** thing!

For nine moons and more,
This umbilical connected us,
You, I worshipped with heavenly adore,
Yet, our ways must part thus;

And you must find it,
In your beautiful heart,
Not to feel envy's heat,
But to welcome this new start;

I am a man now,
With a beautiful wife,
A girl and boy,
I'll turn forty in this life,
I, no longer, am your very good toy.

So she changed tactic,
Rather than engage in fisticuffs,
She allowed her mascara flow into it,
Taking all her emotions downhill;

And from there all defenses shrunk,
The room fell silent, you could hear an atom rub itself,
Done acting her part like a diva,
Everyone took turns blaming one another.

That geriatric living in the century before this one,
Finds pleasure in shooting off outside the shores,
Shameless old fleabag junkeetting without remorse,
Playing the script of unrepentant fools;

But herein lay the problem,
Because we are coloured by his senselessness,
Made to appear hapless, even hopeless,
At the beck and call of any and every imperial world power;

Give us back our dear mother,
Trapped in the misfortune of your unfortunate marriage,
We will rescue she who gave us ****,
From your ******, malevolent indifference.

Here we are,
Living within our horizon,
Oblivious of the beyond things,
Images startling to the senses;

And opportunity meets resources,
Things fall into place,
Aboard the wings an eagle,
Off to see the things beyond.

Each day I awake to a heart full of affection,
But the sun sets on my bitter countenance,
Because you embrace me with thornful coldness,
And cut me deeply with your loud silence.

Constantly prodding, digging without remorse,
Ripped of all diginifying attributes, and without recourse,
Taking, relentlessly pouring, your sickening abomination,
Laid bare, broken, in a state of defiled contamination.

The silent screams of the grave,
Crying for justice,
From equinox to solstice,
Deafening howls that mere prayers cannot stave.

Wash away my longing,
But steam me first,
Dry me on the bedding,
Then quench my thirst.

Moving forward,
While about faced,
A lot of motion,
Without any displacement;

Those who have been,
Still are,
The ones that want to,
Cannot;

A chorus unhappiness,
Few smiley faces,
With stomach full of hunger,
Praying for better times.

The virulent untruth they implanted,
Brainwashed by virulent balderdash,
The greatest mendacity they sold,
Topped, only, by this blatant lie they preached;

After the caucasians had their field day,
Enjoyed their time balkanising the dark continent,
They left them a germ, a true trojan demon,
Couched in the halos of a heavenly mission.

Why work ever so hard,
For what, really,
All year round vacation to the ends of the earth,
Or a fleet of never before driven, custom, rare wheels?

I'm gonna remain like this,
Rooted in this magic space,
Life has happened, once more,
A total gift wrapped in sweetness.

So, what if Allah is the greatest,
And pray five times every day of our lives?
Jihad has its roots in Islam,
And Islam is a religion of peace, most definitely.

Over two hundred girls, taken, many moons ago,
Then more than one hundred, stolen,  in the same vein,
While the politics of stupidity serenades their incompetence,
Beer parlour intellectualism fingers the minds of many keyboard warriors.

The story of the broom and the umbrella,
Has her children in fives and eights,
The difference is much the same,
A love encounter everybody hates.

Your time has come to its natural end,
Your course has steered itself silly,
Your tongue is disconnected from reality,
Your infamous time among the living will roll into oblivion.

This land flows with blood and tears,
And for a million years,
Vampires and gremlins,
Make love to werewolves and cretins.

The hands moulded by fate,
But turned too late,
For destiny bear you no plan,
To flourish in my glorious clan.

Everyone wrote me off,
They said I wasn't tough,
Enough to make anything work,
They forgot I didn't need their luck.

Under a petty ruse,
Cloaked in plain sight,
Not well hidden,
A sanctimonious deceiver;

Sanctioned by incumbency,
Clever use of state resources,
Bending the rules in favour,
Open abuse of executive latitude;

But do the people care?
Too impoverished to mind,
Would readily be had,
Even for a few grains benevolence.

On the road to see my sweetheart,
I stopped by a hedge of red roses,
And lingered for an eternity's moment,
To savour how true love should entrap a man's soul.

In the security of a bubble,
The might of the lowly breeze blows trouble,
Carrying with it ominous foretelling,
Of when things draw closely to a foreboding close.

This part of the world,
And it's starchy ways,
Everything fattens,
Very heart unfriendly.

This bridge cannot stand between our love,
I'll take up wings from above,
Run as far as my heart can take me,
Because with you is where I'd rather be.

How utterly lacking in mind,
Truly missing the meat of the matter,
Bounced around by emperors of a stupid kind,
Failing to make the lives of subjects any better;

Bickering over nothing,
The critters in power chew up everything,
Turning bare buttocks to the people,
Dripping honey from foul mouths;

When will the people get a living wage?
Because you wage war against the living,
Paying just enough to go and die,
Senseless reprobates, enoying others' agonies;

But keep watch! O ye emperors!
For the day of reckoning cometh,
When your billions cannot save you,
From the same dish you served the oppressed.

What influence has the created,
Over their creator?
If you were hired,
Then you can be fired.

She was a gift to phallus,
Taking the member wherever,
Eating, swallowing, giving head,
And in the end, impaling on sweet ecstasy.

Seated on very high places,
The untouchable ones,
Unseen by the blindfolded bearer,
Of delayed unequal decisions.

When confronted by a shift,
Even a slight ruffling,
The core explodes within,
Letting out an unsettling drift.

I lied, every time,
I mentioned some words,
To you, a constant rhyme,
They're true, two edged swords.

Get,
Out,
And,
Try!

So, what if we are tiny, yellow people,
In love with the tyrants that fetter us?
The powers are moving east, fast,
The oriental shifting of the balance of influence.

"Oh, does he still love me?"
"Can this be love?"
"Is he tired...of me?"
"But, but, why now?"

Cupid's arrow has come unstuck,
Aphrodite looked the other way,
Everything fades,
Including the magic;

So, when the day started cold,
No flowers, chocolate or cake,
Even cards bearing affection,
Then...maybe...possibly.

Burdened by the gluttony of pudgy fingered politicians,
And their endless breaking of putrefying wind,
She heaved a huge and resounding sigh, very loudly,
And, with unbounding love, laid down the troublesome load.

Hello cookie,
Can I taste your honey?
Hmmmm...like heaven,
Please, can I die here?

I would rather,
I stayed upright,
Than erupt in temptation,
Of momentary pleasure.

Far from my embrace,
Left in this coldly place,
If again, I could touch your face,
And fill this lonely space.