Our wealth an unfaithful wife, she's sooner gone when perils knock.
A bridegroom to poverty you may find yourself. A glutton, not a meal will she spare.

Our vessels, dust that longs for dust, in daily decay.
Our habitats, pedestrians in paths of typhoons and waves.
Our families, cups of bliss, a well of dismay.

We dull the mind in sewers, with each sip an illusion of joy resumes, as sorrows sleep.

A well of eternal bliss longed for having rejected The Owner. The springs of life freely flows but sewers we have preferred.
The spring of life flows freely the invitation has been shared.

The last light fading
Breaths incapsulated
Blood red eyes
The last struggle
Kicking and boxing towards the sky
Hoping to see the light
In murky dwellings of whales and sharks
Afraid, dazed and crushed
The grip on life fades like dusks, while praying for the sunrise

Down a path where arteries will meet the scythe.
Deceased silhouettes suffocating in defeat.

A spark struggles to illuminate the way before the feet.
cloaked in disbelief, conversing with grief.

Climbing an empty ladder,
dreams clustered beyond reach.
With worn bones aiming to reach beyond the known peak.

Deep wounds on my back, I'm a gallery of scars. Take a gander feast your eyes, a tarnished heart is my signature.

Vistiges of my soul dangling on toothpicks, dinner well relished by friends foes glimmer with empathy. Malice pleased, who is my enemy?

The excrement of animals drowning in the sewers, is that the existence the best of self I can only persue huh?

A warrior's last breath asking for help. Will I sleep quietly without a helping hand,
Will I sleep quietly without a helping hand?

With dead dreams
Can you ever sleep?

Struggled, befriended effort
Only to return to  blankets
Of disheartenment where despondency
Warms your heart as it tears you apart.

Do your dreams die
When sleep departs?

Shattered limbs and blisters reposed in your mind.
The blood moon residing in your eyes.
Your resolves never diverging as you hobble.
Paving the path with skin, flesh and blood.

Sleeping beyond the grave
Do dreams live on?

Eyes roped by gardens of thorns and fleeting petals. Dreams whistle wonders, kindling hope, in hearts of those still asleep, wandering in dreams.

Standing still
Crushed rampaged
  metals collide the face
  splashed with guts of the
      masses Massacras being
            routines in all routes the
                   scenes are blinding
                        as light flashes
                     before the eyes
                  like angry skies
                in  darker nights

           The day is reborn
      the face wiped with
  cloths of sorrow black
bags already gone but
  not forgotten, pardoned
     only when the bones have
           cracked and the body
           can no longer stand the
             pain, with holes deep
             enough to be filled
                    by the rain.

Abandoned murals across the boarder, the walls still painted by war. The scrap yard a pile of torn limbs, needles embedded in phalanges divorcing finger from nail the soil still grieves .

Infants don't see the sun.
Autumn leaves with fleeting lives.
a thousands hills with wooden crosses rooted in, What is beneath?

An old man sighs before the last breath departs
Chasing a wind of memories escaping dark pasts. Hands mirror fire remnants, scatter across the vast lands with red tears immersing the white grass .

Engulf me with melody only for a moment and I'll walk the forest of hunted wolves and despondent lions.

The once ambrosial aroma of frail lilies, a smothering hebenon hand. The rays shy away from the polygamy of reapers and senectitude relishing valiant men.

Immerse me in harmonious symphonies only for a moment and I'll tread the trench terrane with jubilent feet, blind to the alluring viper's habanera under lacerated hearsecloth worn by the forest.

Why do say love is blind or is for fools?
You drown your blankets with seas from your eyes. Convincing yourself your chest is not one full of treasure, but needles at war with your heart.

Is this what you call love?
This is infatuation, it's lust, it's desire to benefit yourself with no regards for the one you burn towards.

Will you not learn from nature?
trees revive you with oxygen as you breathe. the rivers feed the clouds and the clouds rain and feed the rivers.

Where is sorrow there?
Where are the needles you curse?

Leave your sorrows, they are not worthy of You. Realise that Love is a circle of beneficence, sacrificing itself for the welfare of others.

We used to paint oceans of sorio lillies, across the sky pouring tears of life.
Merging memories of sore pasts and saw paths that revamped lost plants.
Without a seed, groomed roses and blossomed fields of dying daisies daily decaying dim.

Her kiss embellished wrathful storms,with red feathers of white birds drifting to the shore, of fine sand born from light zones in dark ends.

Now she's a ghost, a spirit of a wild mild mind in an abyss of enraged beasts. She's alive and breaths still,but her breath passes by the trees as though another leaf carried by the wind.
Is she in a coffin inside a casket buried beneath the garden of joy but only ripping despair, gloriously singing by herself?

My life is foretold in every crevice of this universe,
in serene seas, and swaying sands,
in scorching degrees and holding hands,
with a lover in my longing arms,
fires raging, and yet i am sheltered from harm.
and throughout my journeys,
it is my deepest desire,
to ignite and set my ambitions on fire,
in the midst of euphoric dreaming,
with my lover on this late summer's evening.
and i shall be at one with the stars,
and my doors in life shall forever remain ajar.

Walk into this space it is endless
sublime congruence with the heavens
open is the third eye looking directly at abyss
i feel a divine hint on my skin
as if it were a celestial kiss
there is no need to travel in doubt
it is written across the evening canvas
open the gates of exotic awareness

It is writhing, it is gifting, entrusting me, and quaking,
yet I, within mine, remain still.
Fore be it told, and beneath footless form, it's subversive,
yet, I dance a sure tango, uphill.
I must be sure, so sure not to mind lone notches and disparity,
as crevices, you see, they arch to transverse.
Fearing but forging the depths of what is migration, we say,
from this hallowed tangle be my rise, my verse.

I’m floundering, I grant, when I think I hold discovery,
so, I tug at the rein of imprint and plan.
It is here my beloved reliance, my precious doubtless tread
is afforded the fair crossing of Pan.
So, although it contests and chides and outreaches,
I am in love and as love, an apprentice.
A conquest won, no never, but here, a concession, a regard-
I am, with no poet’s journey, amiss.**

Lilting ebulliently in ineffable fields of ecstasy.
Mellifluous waves, in life's voyage,
inure us to pulchritude paths, refined by old age.
Multifarious, nascent jubilant days, swaying in paint,
array the way as we sail away.

.       **You're A Gift From God              
                  At His Moment
                           Of Joy

Flummoxed,
In labyrinths of
Baleful forests with
eyes of gibbet makers
and buried undertakers.
In gloaming sights,
hobbling towards the light.
The silver teeth of
obeisance sundering will,
plundering peace,
blazoning smiles of
malicious beings.

.          IF I WERE A POET

                             The
                     First stanza
                     would be a      
       magnatic attic captivating
            Elegant architects of
                     iridescence  
                        Vividly
       propelling pupils to edges
                 Of the schleras        
        Compelling pens to pages
                    of new eras
    

            IF I WERE A POET
                                
                         ­              The
                              Second
                 Stanza would
             Mirror Zues's
          spear slicing through
        tears drowning in clouds
         striking fields of pens
                        Egniting the
                    capsules of
                 Variegated
               Lands


            IF I WERE A POET

                            The
                     Last stanza
             would sail summers
           tame winters bathe in  
         springs of autumn praise  
           deeds of the monarchs
           reigning over raining
           rainbows nurturing the
         clouds planting wings on
       the ground giving free will
          to plants to seed the sky  
           with warmth and love
                of nature's heart.

FLAMES from furious friends fighting ferocious fears, forever fueling fuminous faith.

INCESSANTLY incinerating innocence in innerselves. Insidiously influencing introspective introverts.

RISING rapidly.
radically rapturing rectitude rampantly, reconcering raibors.

ENDLESSLY eclipting ecstatic event. enecting eruptions.
eradicating elation .

Moles with wings, how is the sky suppose to breathe
From notions of blunt pencils that we never read?
Words baled within the mind, you're prisoner confined in pages aging, facing life setences.
The Size of your pen is,
Still judged by the masses.

There's no peak but pick up the pace without being haste.
Peeking in pools of fame will drown your gaze.

Shoes within rules fit perfectly,
when they broom the room of humes endlessly.

Malignant Mindless Maternal, Maliciously Moulding murderous Motives.

The Peternal parted prior the proof of pregnancy, the tears of heaven gave
birth to emergencies.

On the highway way of pain lonely and melancholy on coming traffic was a thunder stream.
tradegy waiting impatiently like an honest thieve.

Her feet heavy, a womb of twins is what she carried.
The clouds washing sins from the tarmac her screams unheard,
she gave birth in silence.

Two healthy beautiful boys, baptised by the rain.
The pain she borne was no more, propelling the boys over the bridge.
The umbilical cords around their vocal cords.
Death was born and LIFE was lost

Her Aura is the aurora in Crystal skies, when she smiles heaven is alive, within her heart you'll find the sanctuary for love.

My heart would betray me for her and lead me to places where joy rids me of despair.
Consumed completely by love I'm dared by bliss, a stranger I've never met.
My mind a gallery of her beauty,
priceless masterpieces I shall never part with.

Starve me of food and water I can survive, but away from her arms I lose the meaning of life.

.....The brush, rush the paint the
                        grudge    
    is ripe cultivate it or let it rust.
  The paint stail the painter frail.
   Caved canvas in sails of a sailor.
  Clash of nembuses the skin pailer  
as thunder walts ashore the ocean,
ballets on the sea like sworns with
wings intertwined dancing with the
                         wind.
You'll love the voice of melody when  
               harmony sings.
   Deep bliss drowns sins so reach
    the glimpse of peace and live

                 Poets coherent,
          honest with even pens
     and odd ends. Warm hearts
               with cold hands.
      Portraying all tales of time.
Write about bright lives bright in
     night stars riding dark skies,
                            Or
    The bane caved in same plains
       of pain as faith fades they
         aim pens on blank pages
               as sanity escapes
Vail veils of age and grow young
                         again.

It's been an honor. Thank you all for supporting me, teaching me how to be a poet I very much appreciate it but for now I have to be one with the wind.

I'll be back as soon my future is certain, education is as they say the path to all paths.

I love you all

Benign, benevolent ballerina bubbly bathing by beautiful blossoming balsams.

A gander I took and I was a statue, still, allured, and enchanted. my lips basted by beauty, before her I was an apparition, lost in forests of adulation.

A vanishing spirit soon to be a vestige of a vestige. I shall wage wars, arm myself and battle my way to her hands that can melt the glaciers residing in my heart.

She is
The heart of poetry,
The cynosure in art,
The spirit of love
That renews honesty.
More precious than
Jewels of God,
mesmerising
arch angels in the centre of heaven having more love than two hearts combine, she's alive and so are we as she imbues us with her life.

The roof is only a foundation, the sky above our heads is the ground beneath her feet and still she is down to earth.

The sun reside within her chest, glistering as she stands, with eyes made of pearls gaze into them and witness fields of elation emerge,where harmony is the ying and melody the yang.

.                      *
                            The
                            Xyr-
                       ­    -esic
                   Steel of justice
             Real and unfogiving
                        Cutting
                        through  
                        Foes  of
                        The thr-
                       -one pro-
                       - tecting
                        Friends
                        F­orever
                        presev -
                        -ing pe-
                          -ace
                             .

I don't care any more
nor do i care any less
but i'm your lover, not your *****
and you're the reason for this mess

Parading your **** like you're in command
I have limits to your inane nonsense
I'm finally making my stand
No longer giving out to your reasons

I will stand tall, no matter what
Shape up and become a Man
Quit thinking below the waist
and treat me like I know you can

Empty vessels would clang the most
Never exercising the need to be humble nor coy
You're an underachiever with the penchant to boast
You were never a man, but a childish little boy

But, no matter what you have done or who you have become, i still see the passion within you
I see a pure love that we have created, one that is so true...
Although you have made many mistakes in the past
I am still sitting here willing to stick around for this love i know will last...

for ever and until the end
until they lay us six feet under
hand in hand as we die
i will be your lover

a lover to cherish the ground you walk on,
even when you stumble and shake,
i'll be your first in command,
because with you, there is too much at stake.
i want to be that lover,
who awaits in adoration of your arrival,
that one lover,
who loves you until our love is final.

I carved my chest and gave you this heart.
We flowed through the nile and overcame ocean tides.
A seed of bliss you planted in me and our love was born once more, leaving me scarred.
I thought you were proud and passionate but the truth was cloacked by your lies.
You dined with others while I recovered.
I resent you but appreciate the gift of new life that we have, this bond we share may never break,
for it's the only bond that makes us care.

Sometimes I wonder where I should truly be
No X on the spot, no key to set me free
The past clouding me I wish it would leave me be
Nothing guaranteed, my soul held in captivity
Every corner reminds me of my past activity
My loss of personality seemingly lasting an eternity

Lost and confuse hope mizzles
destiny becomes kind
faith extends a helping hand
Ink sinks in my mind
words become alive
imagination spreads wings and suddenly I can climb the sky
my destination is home
made of potent imagery
the only greeting I know
being Hello poetry

If this prison of a heart could ever be unlocked she would be the key.
She's purest of joy I've ever known, 
The goddess of love.
cupids dance at the edges of her heart, allergic to lies honesty is her pride.
Suffocated by ropes of sorrows, she untied them and climb to lands of joy.
Her smile awakens the smell of roses, an inspiration for poets to compose with sincerity.
She's clearity in fogs of uncertainty.
If I am to be a pirate then She's the only treasure I'd ever need.
Enticing,alluring, comely, angelic serein and mesmeric lady

She's a lover, the light in the dark, a kind gentle heart I cannot touch.
urges surging feelings emerging,
I am conflicted I know not of love while she is core of it.
I see her everywhere but nowhere so
I search.. I long.. and I yearn..
for her but she is far from my reach I can only hope that our hearts are in synch.

Reap a reaper,
riddle a riddler,
Out-think a thinker
while watching a man who
still steals steel
find peace in a
pierced piece,
as he see seas
that are ceasable.
laughing at laughter because it's laughable.

Risk seeking
to seek risking
so you can feel feelings
of love for a lover
because they're lovable
while realising that in reality they are not reliable
They get sensitive
about sensitivity
is that sensible?
Questioning questions
that are not questionable.

End at the beginning
or begin at the end
to rest restfully as you
dream dreamfully about
articulating art artfully.

The rocking chair
  a paradise for termites
  front porch pictures portraying
   love are nebulous within her eyes
    she busks in the moment
    the delightful smell
    of the effloresecent
    garden being the front-row
   sit to memories of young
  lovers, a vistage of ecstacy
lost with time

  Frazzled by years of affairs
   She still yearns for that
   kiss that cares not for
   time and space that
   leaves a mark of falicity
  on her visage.
a birth mark for when love is
born as lady nature sings her songs

We came from wombs of literature baptized in wisdom of poets
teeming with knowledge
the cranium about to crack crowns not bestowed but earned

The anguish suffered and absorbed by those who wrote before us
laid grounds for the battle royal

The throne forged from fallen pens the smell of burning paper still alive
Across the journey we must embark to arrive and claim the crown

It is but the path before us to spill the blood, to travel the Trail of Tears
Speak it all in words that communicate your fears

Fell in deep slumber
But my soul is wide awake;
Nights filled with horrendous dreams
Or are those my realities haunting
me ?
Falling in the abyss of thoughts
Ready to feel shattered
and lost

my soul weakens and breaks my emotions separate themselves
from each other
and exit from my husk of my body
no one around as I die
lonely starving for love
i wake up
lonely

Afraid that
the dreams
could become reality
or at least haunt me
for the rest of my life ,
leaving my soul
forever tainted

I'm taunted but At the edges of my fears for a moment,
Wisdom breaths courage
And  I  a m F r e e  
With each step
I can see a glimpse
of elation
enchanting my soul
awakaning my hope
replenishing the hole
in the mists of my heart lost
without love joy is found
and at long last I am whole.

Even if you neglect me, hate me, thrown knives that impale me
I LOVE YOU

Even if you no longer want to see me as you indulge in all sorts of debaucheries
I LOVE YOU

Even if you point a gun in my face, telling me to go to hell and suffocate in fumes of flames of furious demons,
I LOVE YOU

Even if you give me tears everyday, crying without a voice at night as my heart slowly breaks,
I LOVE YOU

Even if love is truly  Treacherous and I had a way to escape, I wouldn't. I'll rather be smothered by the pain, because  in my heart I know that
I LOVE YOU

Kissed by God she is love itself, untaintend by ways of man.
In the world of the dying, she spreads her love, replenishing broken hearts.

In her alluring eyes, you can gaze at the universe as it unfolds.
With a ballet of stars along the milky-way.
Singing life's song as the mystry fades
Joined by those who sleep in hope
Revived as they come to know.
life is love

Caramel lips, with a body bathed in whipped cream and melted chocolate. With a taste that invigorates every last sansation within.

my eyes are hypnotised as she softly whispers in my ears to dine and delight. Leading me to temples of pleasure.
Her fingers as soft as feathers of golden eagles.
I'm riddled as to why I feel so feeble.

she has mastered the art of knismesis while I am still an apprentince.
temptation consumes me whole, while she moans I indulge in her as the night slowly... grows

I'm tilted and insist that you know I am grateful now here we
are-
an alliance. Let's see ourselves onwards, be borne by our
fondness-in accord, be our love for the colloquy.

Spry, exuberant. We are free spirits draining oceans of ink, bathing in rivers of lies to find the truth while saturated by pride.
We are propelled to propinquity, as we seek for a better prospect while drowning in propensity.

Our hearts bleed onto the paper,
wanting more love of passion
to spill out endlessly,
so others can relate
to share this burning fire
Deep within our souls.
we seek endlessly for acceptance and relatability,
with someone who we can feel
safe to share these wonderful feelings,
feelings of want from our vulnerable hearts.

In sharing our vulnerable hearts,
I becomes We
the divine flame burns brightly, guiding lonely souls
to meet heart to heart on this happy road of destiny
a stream of gratitude flows from our bloods, and we discover that we write to connect
to the divine source that empties us and fills us.

The silk of nature the gentle hands of  
   a loving mother placidly rubbing
                      swollen feet

The crystal of murmaids shimmering
   ashore mirroring the rainbows as
     though a priceless gold infused
             with diamonds of God

I'm lost in bliss gazing at the beauty
        of this magnificent field of
                     transparency