9 | 31 Poems for August 2017

When my blue skies have turned grey, I listen to that one Emeli Sandé song and reminisce about you every single day.
The moment you opened your eyes, I was right there by your side and my love for you comes as no surprise.
But I knew that someday my love wouldn’t be good enough for you and that somehow, you’d find a way to disappear.
I hope you’ve found a way to finally stop smoking cigarettes and drinking ***** like there’s a message in the bottle.
Love, I wish you’d be more open about your feelings because bottling everything in is detrimental.
I still write about you in hopes that one day you’ll read all these words and hopefully find your way back to me.
I still miss the sweet scent of your presence on the white duvet covers and cotton sheets of my memory.
Love is blind and that I already know, but I had never pictured writing these words without you.
Maybe you were right when you said that my love is as bad as my handwriting is – maybe I should’ve seen it coming.
Your aura always took me to peaceful picturesque places that I had only seen in my dreams.
I still want to hold your heart like the lonely autumn trees hold the fragility of clinging leaves.
But I knew that someday my love wouldn’t be good enough for you and that somehow, you’d find a way to disappear.

15 | Heartbreak in Hatfield

I took the bus from the CBD all the way to Hatfield just to free my mind and receive closure from you.
Let’s vibe out and listen to our favourite songs by Drake and reminisce about the love that we’ll never get back.
How long can I keep holding on when all this pain becomes a reflection of everything that’s bound to go wrong?
Was I not deserving of the kind of love and happiness that I had consistently given to you?
I yearn for a reality worth dreaming about, but lately my heart has been paralysed by doubt.
Time is expensive like a Richard Mille watch but every minute I spent with you was worth it.
When my blue skies fade to grey, I listen to songs by The Weeknd and reminisce about you every single day.
I took the bus from the CBD all the way to Hatfield just to free my mind and receive closure from you.
Now I spend my days listening to sad songs while reminiscing about the love that I’ll never get back.
These words are proof that I’m still recovering from the heartbreak I once felt a while ago in Hatfield.

31 | 31 Poems for August

(Written with Naledi Tshikota)

Write me a sonnet, point dozens of Cupid’s arrows to my heart if you dare to awaken it.
Tune into your inner Shakespeare, fantasize us as Bonnie and Clyde if you care to spend time in it.
Recreate the Titanic, recreate it with the ending of The Notebook if you can bear to believe in it.
And if that doesn’t work, cast me to sleep like the Romeo you are and let me awake next to your lifeless flesh and dagger as I pierce my soul with it.

Write me a sonnet, let every single one of those fourteen lines bleed with emotion.
Leave The Notebook next to my notebook and become the protagonist of my dreams.
Think like the wind and attain the kind of power that’ll allow you to ******* away on any given day.
Your presence keeps transforming our thoughts into beautiful poetic paintings, Basquiat and Picasso would’ve been proud.

Write me a sonnet, silence every impurity that does awaken my love.
Summon the essence of my soul for the taking of your unforsaken hands and make Mona Lisa cry sacred tears of joy.
Create simplistic glimpses that only our superior beings can understand, only then can I unleash my undying emotion towards your uncontested universe.

Write me a sonnet, the kind that will make me realise that your heart isn’t filled with any doubt.
The day I realised that words could touch you, I wanted to become a poem.
The kind of poem that Maya Angelou’s ink always dreamt about.
The taste of your smile still lingers on the edges of my lips.
I see galaxies in your eyes, it must be in the way I love you like I do.
I could’ve settled for less but I don’t want anyone else but you.

Write me a sonnet that speaks to the heart of my mind.
Because I always hear your heartbeat when I think about you.
Write me a sonnet that intertwines our inner intuitions.
A sonnet that makes you believe in shooting stars if you’re into wishing.
And finally that captures the very essence of the unknown soul that’s unspoken of.
Because it’s within your golden silence that I hear the loudest cry.

7 | 31 Poems for August 2016

I wish heaven had visiting hours so everything you envisioned would be ours.
You promised me that I would never lose you to the wind no matter how hard it would blow.
But you’re gone now, you’re gone and the detrimental effect of your absence has started to show.
I still pray for better days to come my way but I can’t be too worried about what happens tomorrow.
I’m living on borrowed time; my days are numbered like a calendar and lately I’ve been feeling like the king of sorrow.
You showed me how to live life to the fullest but never taught me how to live without you.
Now my blue skies have faded to grey and my Mondays have gone blue.
You’ve drifted away like autumn leaves on a windy street, I guess heaven couldn’t wait for you.
But I am glad that you’re in a better place, the thought of you always puts a smile on my face.
I wish heaven had visiting hours so every beautiful thing you envisioned would be ours.

2 | Heartbreak in Hatfield

I saw you, without all the things that the media had convinced every girl to have just so she can look and feel beautiful.
You may not love poetry but I love how you always become a poem for me.
You are simply amazing; the pulchritude in your presence has liberated me.
Through nights of pain I found love and through love I managed to find myself.
I found myself yearning to appreciate you even more than the day before.
Curves, edges and perfect imperfections – you possess an intriguing allure.
My feelings are genuine so please disregard what you hear in the corridors.
I want to hold you in my arms until you remember what happiness feels like.
Lay your feet on warm concrete floors while my hands gradually explore every single contour.
I am obsessed with the curves of your lips and how gently they are always able to hold my smile.
The weather hasn’t been the same ever since the sun decided to impersonate the warmth of your aura.
Your eyes change colour when you smile and I can see everything especially the reflection of your love.
So many cold autumn nights have come and gone but I still have a desire to feel your warmth once again.
I saw you, without all the things that the media had convinced every woman to have just so she can look and feel beautiful.

6 | 31 Poems for August 2016

Here I stand, gradually disintegrating just so I can remain whole.
It’s interestingly sad to see how many people that are alive feel dead to me.
Your kind words are smooth like a fresh cup of latté but I need something stronger to battle this heartache.
Got nothing to read except the words I effortlessly wrote last night and a few James Patterson novels.
Time is wasted so I patiently wait for the clock to get sober eventually.
The sincerity of my words is embedded in the movement of my metaphors, similes, adjectives and verbs.
I love waking up whole to the bonfire of a warm and loving soul.
But you will eventually grow tired of me, somehow they all do.
Everything is slowly falling apart, I just wish I had full control.
All I can do is sit and helplessly watch while the debris flies over me.
Here I stand, gradually disintegrating just so I can remain whole.
I love waking up whole to the bonfire of a warm and loving soul.
But I hope that you never grow tired of me unlike how everyone did.

19 | 31 Poems for August

The light in her hazel-brown eyes is the kind that gets people mesmerized.
I’ve fallen deeply for the words from a lady who creates love with a simple touch of a pen.
She made me realise that true beauty starts from within.
She is my muse, my friend, my lover.
She is my inspiration and for that I love her.
Life tastes better on the curves and edges of her lips.
Her love is the scripture that my heart believes in.
Her love is never enough; I’m always left yearning for more.
In a world ravaged by cold wars, we both know what we’re fighting for.
Nobody should ever come between us because there will be war.
I want to be the unforgettable poem written on the pages of her soul.
I want to be the poem that will always make her heart warm and whole.
No one’s perfect but she’s perfect for me.
Her love is the scripture that my heart believes in.
I want to escape from the cold, I want to nestle myself deep inside her soul.
The light in her hazel-brown eyes breaks through the darkest of clouds that always seem to surround me.
The light in her hazel-brown eyes has me mesmerized.
I could write poetry forever with the inspiration our love provides.

10 | 31 Poems for August 2017

I could feel the love and not the distance.
I don’t want to be reminiscing about you right now.
You burn me again like my favourite bottle of Irish whiskey.
These wounds leave blood stains on my white canvas sneakers.
You could feel the distance and not the love – that’s the difference.
Everything is complicated and my feelings are hardly reciprocated.
Why should I try to win you over again when I know that I’ve lost anyway?
But the truth is, it wasn’t even about winning; maybe I overlooked several warning signs in the beginning.
Bullets pierced through my body as you slowly stole my soul away from me.
Before I left you alone, I placed an infinite number of kisses on your collarbone.
Heartbreak has taught me that it’s best to back away and leave love alone.
However, I still want to read all the love letters your hands are yet to write so effortlessly on my skin.
I knew that someday my love wouldn’t be good enough for you and that somehow, you’d find a way to disappear.
I could feel the love and not the distance, and maybe that’s one of the reasons why I still need you here.

I get high off my lows when my life is rapidly moving out of control.
I wish someone had told me that drugs come in the form of people too.
I love waking up whole to the bonfire of a warm and loving soul.
But I know that you will eventually grow tired of me somehow they all do.
Diligently dealt with depression before and I’ve been silently subjected to a detrimental allure.
This obsession with depression will have me in a state of regression.
I have visions of nightmares when the night stares, this is my confession.
I have been falling apart while trying to piece together my broken heart.
Love does not know the pain it heals and pain does not know the love it seeks.
The doors of my closet lead to a graveyard that has been burdened with my endeavours of trying to be someone worthy of your love.
Depression hit harder than the recession, it had me regressing and constantly questioning my level of progression.
I wish someone had told me that drugs come in the form of people too.
If someone alerted me then I wouldn’t have fallen so deep in love with you.

31 | 31 Poems for August 2016

I know we’ve both been told not to make homes out of people.
Because once they are gone, we will become lost in the world and slowly begin to feel incomplete.
But you can run into my heart, build a place called home and make it yours.
So when people ask me about your whereabouts, I will just tell them that you are where you finally belong.
Hope you learn to love your thick thighs and those beautiful brown eyes.
You are as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside and that’s why most people are drawn to your aura.
I still want to hold you like the lonely autumn trees hold the fragility of clinging leaves.
Home is where the heart is, it’s where the art is and I never want you to leave.
It won’t matter which book I’ll be reading; your love will always be the scripture that my heart believes in.
The first time there was peace inside my heart was the very first time you began loving me.
I know that I could live off your heart if mine ever stopped beating.
We’ve both been told not to make homes out of people because once they are gone, we will become lost in the world.
But you will never lose me to the wind no matter how hard it blows.
So let me love you wholeheartedly, not in words but with my actions.
I had given up on love and happiness before you walked into my life.
From a distant stranger to an unforgettable muse all the way up to sharing a beautiful view beside you.
Run into my heart, turn those four walls into a home and make it yours.
So when people ask me about your whereabouts, I will just tell them that you are where you finally belong.

I’m taking a chance on love.
I hope you take it with me.
I’m a dreamer, dreams are the only things I have left.
I know your soul is torn.
Hold back your tears while I’m gone.
But if you cry, then please don’t cry alone.
I hope we start healing each other.
Besides we all bleed the same.
In days of loneliness and pain.
A smile is the least I can maintain.
I hope you remain free and mellow.
You’ve given me the courage to say hello.
Refrained me from saying goodbye.
Everything happens for a reason, I need to find the reason why.
I hope to find the courage to perform these lines.
The courage to scream at the top of my lungs.
The courage to express my freedom of speech.
As my heart beats, feel the freedom in my speech.
Listen to my freedom as I speak.
I pray not to become a victim of vanity.
Before I begin to lose my sanity.
I hope my dreams turn into reality.
I just hope that I’m not the only hoping.
I hope we start healing each other.
Because we all really need other.
I’m taking a chance on love.
I hope you take it with me.

1 | 31 Poems for August 2017

I’m embracing the flaws that I have been blessed with.
Thoughts scatter like rain when your head lives in the clouds.
It’s amazing how people always find these hands of mine incredible.
They admire how these hands constantly transform simple words into beautiful poetry.
What more can I tell you?
I’m from the city where jacaranda trees light up the streets with their purple blooms.
I’m a lover without a lover, but never loveless plus I write poems on the pages of people’s hearts.
I met a girl with a soul like a library and every time I see her, she keeps getting thicker than the plot does.
I guess that it’s no mystery why I am obsessed with reading, I always have a book in my hand no matter the season.
For days on end, I’ve been yearning for my love to be intensified by the pulchritude of someone’s presence.
When you look at me, what do you see in my place?
I still yearn for soulful conversations filled with happiness, love and laughter.
The kind of conversations that will be accompanied with red wine and music by Emeli Sandé, Sade or Erykah Badu.
What more do you want to know?
I’ve fallen in love with my own solitude, but lately loneliness has gradually begun to creep in like a thief in the night.
Love is blind and that I already know, but I never want to write these words without a muse.
Love is not a mystery; it’s every beautiful thing that I ever wanted it to be.

21 | 31 Poems for August 2017

We have both grown up and in that process, we grew apart.
You weren’t emotionally prepared when I said that I love you.
You dismissed my feelings so cold and quickly, I questioned whether you were planning to stay.
In hindsight, it’s obvious that you were destined to leave, what were your plans anyway?
I’ve been writing melancholic poetry and hoarding unforgettable memories.
I question everyone that does not pledge their allegiance to love and loyalty.
I have been reminiscing about the past and all the time that we wasted.
Music that I listen to reminds me of something distant that we used to be.
I should have given you every single part of me when I still had the chance.
I finally understand that it’s too late for me to be apologising for my mistakes.
Apart from attempting to become lovers, we were good friends and now we don’t talk anymore.
It’s such a shame, not even a simple hello could ever suffice, now tell me who’s to blame?
Is it me for becoming emotionally distant or you for giving up too easily on something worth fighting for?
I’ve been looking at your pictures since you left and I can’t seem to delete them from my phone.
When you dismissed my feelings for you, I questioned whether you were planning to stay.
In hindsight, it’s obvious that you were destined to leave, what were your intentions anyway?
We’ve become strangers with memories, it’s obvious that you will never love me like you used to.

17 | 31 Poems for August 2016

I understand the fact that I am not always easy to understand.
Loving me is complicated and maybe that’s the beauty of it all.
I never really knew how to handle this beautiful thing called love.
So I always thought that someone would be able to show me how.
“You’re not easy to love” are words I’ve heard too many times before.
My hyperhidrosis is evident but how long will you keep on looking?
I know that my smile is flawed and crooked but it’s worth the picture still.
Let me write my wrongs until I’m right within but where should I begin?
Walking through a graveyard littered with my ideas and thoughts.
Littered with my endeavours of trying to be someone worthy of your love.
You don’t believe in me so who am I to tell the world about our story?
Just another spoken-word poet from Pretoria trying to attain his glory.
These words are written with great effort but you never pay attention anyway.
You know that I’ve got hyperhidrosis but I try not to sweat the small stuff.
I never really knew how to handle this beautiful thing called love.
So I always thought that someone would be able to show me how.
“You’re not easy to love” are words I’ve heard too many times before.
My hyperhidrosis is evident but how long will people keep on looking?
I know that my smile is flawed and crooked but it’s worth the picture still.

15 | 31 Poems for August 2016

Days gradually getting longer while circles keep growing smaller.
I’m alone in this crowded city but I know that it’s only temporary.
Time is wasted, I guess the clock had too much to drink last night.
Began treating society like varsity, I started not to care if I was accepted.
Dreams I once promised myself to pursue are now forgotten and neglected.
Even if things don’t always go my way, I just hope that everything will be okay.
Sometimes I feel closer to my dreams but then I wake up and realise that it was all in my sleep.
According to my frame of reference, dreams delayed may always feel like dreams denied.
Now I have to put on hold stories about success that urgently need to be told.
Too many times the world has made me feel like an abandoned church, but in your eyes I’ll always be a cathedral.

My confidence levels are getting lower and lower; I can feel it in my sleep.
I’m slowly progressing but progressing nonetheless but I still feel like I’m disappointing myself.
I’m doing my utmost best, the worst thing you could do is compare me to someone else.
I’m still holding on no matter how bad it gets; it hurts but I try my best not to let my frustrations show.
I can’t carry on like this though, eventually I’ll have to let everything go.
Eventually I’ll have to let go and forget everything I ever wanted to be.
Days gradually getting longer while impatient frustrations get the best of me.

13 | 31 Poems for August 2017

I wrote many of my poems in Braille for the kind of love I was desperately longing to feel.
I’m still catching feelings; my words are revealing and that’s why you’ll know that this poem is about you.
Let me tell you about my version of events while we listen to Emeli Sandé on any given Sunday.
For what it’s worth, I was only trying to make things work, but I got high on love during my hiatus.
I’ve had to learn to love you in silence and as if that wasn’t enough, I’ve had to learn to love you from a distance.
I know you didn’t give me permission to, but I already started talking to God about you.
Maybe in your quiet time at exactly the right time, I could possibly be your one and only valentine.
I think I finally understand it now, I’m a hopeless romantic who insists on remaining hopeful.
Let me tell you about my version of events while we listen to Emeli Sandé on any given Sunday.

The world in your eyes has given me infinite hope.

You have my breath taken.
You have my whole world shaken.
Your love gradually healed my pain.
I yearn to be a recipient of sweet kisses in the rain.
Let’s dwell in the mist of bliss.
I’ll wait for my winter hug and summer kiss.
These are my intimate thoughts.
Interludes of profound emotions.

4 | 31 Poems for August

Woken up by the sound of rain.
Writing about intimate memories until sunshine finds me again.
It may seem like I cannot see but sometimes the darkness becomes my light.
It’s amazing to see a love this beautiful shine so bright.
I found love in the midst of pain.
I found sunshine in the midst of rain.
Your perfect imperfections are the most intriguing parts of your being.
Sometimes these words are just not enough to describe all that I feel for you.
Your hips are perfectly contoured for my hands to hold on to.
When you’re not here, these hands don’t know what else to do.
We found love in the midst of pain.
We found sunshine in the midst of rain.
The pages of my heart are saturated with words describing how remarkable you are.
In a sky full of constellations, you are my favourite star.
Your perfect imperfections are the most intriguing parts of your being.
A connection this strong was destined.
I gave you love, you gave me reflections.
Now a song by Justin Timberlake keeps playing on the radio.
I may be introverted but my love for you will always show.
Maybe that’s something our friends need to know.
Woken up by the sound of rain.
Writing about intimate memories until sleep finds me again.

“I don’t know a perfect person. I only know flawed people who are still worth loving.” – John Green

30 | 31 Poems for August 2016

You’re introverted in ways that others find offensive.
But you’re different, you’ve acquired my entire attention.
Beautiful cocoa butter skin, your complexion is truly a blessing.
I don’t know what tomorrow brings, I just hope that you’ll be in it.
I don’t know if tomorrow will come but I pray that you’ll be in it.
Sometimes these words fail me, but fortunately you never do.
I often find metaphors in the spaces between your fingers.
I regularly pray to God and unpretentiously thank Him for your existence.
Even though I barely say much, I know He’s always listening.
I often find metaphors encrypted in the midst of your silence.
You can always talk to me; I am always willing to listen to you.
You’re introverted in ways that others find offensive.
You’re different, something that not everyone knows how to love.

How far can we get moving closer to our dreams without living in regret?
Have another sip of that glass of red wine then slowly take a deep breath.
When people ask, tell them that you found love in the city where jacaranda trees light up the streets with their purple blooms.
When people ask, let them know that you found love in a place that was previously deemed as hopeless.
Let them know that you found love in the hands and heart of a poet who pledged to spend the rest of his days as your muse.
It’s hard enough finding love in your twenties yet you managed to find the balance and stick to your decision.
Haven’t had the pleasure to kiss you yet, but somehow, I have the taste of your smile lingering on the tip of my tongue.
You’ve made me fall for the poetry of purple blooms and now I can no longer spend spring without you.
Like a painter admiring his exquisite muse, I can’t stop looking at every colour of you.
How many of these poems will I manage to keep writing without driving my loving heart crazy?
The answer to that question is something that I do not know yet, but I do know that my heart beats for you.
Let me tell you more about my version of events while we listen to Emeli Sandé on any given Sunday.
Haven’t had the pleasure to kiss you yet, but somehow, I have the taste of your smile lingering on the tip of my tongue.
I’ll be patiently waiting for you on Jacaranda Avenue so that we can both make our dreams come true.

Don’t make homes out of people because they always leave and take everything you own with them.*
Home doesn’t feel like home without you and because of that I’ve stopped building homes out of people.
But I saw the beauty of the world in your eyes and it always gave me hope.
I’ve been feeling homeless and now I’m always home a lot less because of you.
You are as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside and that’s why people are still drawn to your aura.
Depression hit harder than the recession, it had me regressing and constantly questioning my level of progression.
Purple jacaranda petals spread all around my feet as I patiently wait for my heart to make a sound.
This hopeful romantic knows that hearts get broken like mirrors, records and promises do.

All the jacaranda trees in Pretoria still remind me of the beauty that is you.
When the relentless heat of the sun drove me crazy all I could think about was your smile and those hazel-brown eyes.
I spend some nights drinking my favourite wine by myself but this bottle of Pinotage will always taste better in your presence.
I still want to hold your heart like the lonely autumn trees hold the fragility of clinging leaves.
But you’re no longer mine to love and the thought of you being with someone else kills me.
Hearts fall to the ground like jacaranda petals do but unfortunately the view is not so beautiful.
Purple jacaranda petals spread all around on every street as I patiently wait for my heart to make a sound.

Jen, never worry because I promise you that everything is going to be okay.
Your mind is as breathtaking as views from Table Mountain and your love is as beautiful as the Sistine Chapel.
Life for us was different a few weeks ago, silhouettes of dreams keep me holding on to a different hope.
Two minds flooded with dopamine, our disagreements show that we have more issues than weekly magazines.
But our love proves that nothing has changed in regards to the connection that we share.
I still write about you in hopes that one day you’ll read all these words and hopefully find your way back to me.
The moment that you opened up your eyes, I was right there by your side and my love for you comes as no surprise.
When my blue skies have turned grey, I listen to that one Emeli Sandé song and reminisce about you every single day.
So babe, it’s okay you can hold me now, hold me down and hold me always.
Listening to Long Live the Angels and taking note of the colours in my dreams.
When the relentless heat of the summer sun drove me crazy all I could think about was your smile and those beautiful brown eyes.
I’ve come to accept that love is a part of me even when it’s apart from me.
Jen, never worry because I promise you that everything is going to be okay.

Jen, you worry too much about things beyond our control, but you need to know that we are going to be okay.
Your mind is as breathtaking as views from Table Mountain and your love is as beautiful as the Sistine Chapel.
Let’s vibe out and listen to Malibu by Anderson .Paak while reminiscing about the love that we’ll never get back.
I took six shots of Jägermeister, and apparently, I drank more but that’s the only part that I can remember.
It’s a new year and I’m sitting here listening to music while drinking Heineken and reminiscing about December.
I have been sharpening the edges of my pen to write about blunt memories.
Let’s vibe out and listen to Malibu by Anderson .Paak while reminiscing about the love that we’ll never get back.
We’ll never get back together but I can’t keep on losing you over complications that I’m unfamiliar with.
We must’ve met in the past life because that’s probably why I want to love you past life.

Jen, you worry way too much about the future that you tend to forget to live in the moment.
So every minute that passes by is a moment that you want to capture and post on Instagram and Facebook.
But I can’t judge you because sometimes I get lost in the whirlwind of vivid pixels and instant gratification.
I have come to accept that love is a part of me even when it’s apart from me.
Jen, you worry too much about things beyond our control, but you need to know that we’re going to be okay.

17 | 31 Poems for August

I set myself on fire just to keep you warm.
You should see my third-degree burns.
I crave for your touch even though I have never truly experienced it in its entirety.
I wasn’t asking for much all I wanted to do was love you.
But you were fuelled with a desire to set my heart on fire.
I was looking for love, and I was hoping that I would find it in you.
Drench me in an ocean of kerosene and watch me burn as I sail away.
It doesn’t matter whether you use matches or a lighter.
Set me on fire because a future without you won’t be any brighter.
My mind is uncertain about your intentions but you’re still the one that I desire.
I long for your burning love and warm embrace.
I just wish that you longed for the very same love too.

30 | 31 Poems for August

I set myself on fire just to keep you warm.
You should see my third-degree burns.
I was taught to never play with matches but I guess I’ll never learn.
You stand there with no sense of panic and watch me as I slowly burn.
Ascending to new heights and I still want to take you higher.
Burnt every flower in the garden of my heart and you’re still fuelled with a burning desire.
All that I needed was the kind of love that I mysteriously couldn’t find.
I’m the boy who didn’t give up on love and you’re the girl who stopped learning to love again.
For some odd reason, you enjoy watching me going through relentless pain.
With your kerosene hands you ignite every single thing you touch.
All I wanted you to do was love me, I wasn’t really asking for much.
Every time I say your name, I feel a burning sensation at the back of my throat.
Swimming in an ocean of kerosene with no signs of a lifeboat.
I keep thinking about how loving you is complicated while I try to stay afloat.
I’m the boy who taught himself how to love through the pain.
I thought that your love and laughter could keep me sane.
You constantly scorch my skin with your burning love.
I set myself on fire just to keep you warm.
You should see my third-degree burns.
I was taught to stay away from fire but I guess I’ll never learn.
You stand there and watch me as I slowly burn.
Slowly burning, now here comes the smoke.
But a phoenix will always rise from the ashes.
A phoenix will always rise.

20 | 31 Poems for August 2017

You are what I never thought you were and became what I never thought you’d be.
You’ve cheated on every test that love gave you but somehow, I forgave you.
I stopped trying to mend a broken person the day I realised that I was one.
My hands smell like petroleum from all the bridges that I’ve been burning.
I have humbly grown from every word and poem I wrote back when you and I hardly spoke.
This love is a battlefield and it was foolish of me to be losing limbs for someone who wouldn’t go to war for me.
Getting played like a grand piano did not guarantee me the chance of listening to symphonies.
I gave you exclusive views to breathtaking galaxies, but somehow you still needed more space.
If writing about you ever drives me crazy then make sure that my straitjacket comes in blue.
I’ve been experiencing Sunday blues and I haven’t seen much of you, so tell me now, where are you?

Hammanskraal is too small for the both of us, I guess someone has to leave.
I guess that someone will just have to be me because I need space to breathe.
I never thought that I’d still be writing about friendships that have fallen apart.
Too many times I’ve been told that my biggest flaw is my loving heart.
I have humbly grown from every poem and verse I wrote back when you and I never spoke.
It was foolish of me to be losing limbs for people who wouldn’t go to war for me.
Everything and everyone in your life changed but surprisingly I didn’t, I guess you were wrong about me.
Our generation is ****** up and I am not too proud to admit it.
Whatever the question, know that love is the answer and I really hope that someone gets it.
The world and media has sold you dreams and you’ve got receipts to prove it.
I wish I could adjust a few people’s frame of reference because they have a distorted perception about me.
Whatever the question, know that love is the answer and I know that God understands it.
Our hometown is too small for the both of us, I guess someone has to leave.
I need more simplicity than sympathy, good wine and good friends while the month of August approaches.
It’s June now so while you find comfort in your complacency just know that I’ll be leaving soon.

8 | Heartbreak in Hatfield

Love, will you still be able to love me unconditionally tomorrow?
I hope you’ll still love me when my heart has been burdened by sorrow.
I have love in my heart, milk in my cereal and honey in my cup of Rooibos tea.
But my friends know I prefer a strong cup of coffee that’s as warm as the love and happiness that I provide.
How do I keep it all together when everyone around me is falling apart because of an overflow of pride?
I have constantly fallen in love with my solitude but loneliness has taken over every single part of me.
How do I keep it all together when everything around me is falling apart?
A wise woman once told me that the only thing that matters is the love in my mind and the logic in my heart.

23 | 31 Poems for August 2017

I thought that I’d find closure after writing poetry about you.
But every time I finish writing, I find new ways of missing you.
I’ll try calling you or you could hit me up on Facebook or Twitter.
I cannot stand these people when they are all cold and bitter.
You should know that I’m done chasing trouble and heartbreak.
Got detours and delays, I’m still trying to rectify my previous mistake.
I could’ve handled it better, but right now the past does not really matter.
You settled for a takeaway when you could’ve had the world on a silver platter.
So, let's just keep ignoring each other, and pretend that each of us does not exist because ignorance is bliss.
Do not call me when you can text me, matter of fact, don’t ever call me again.
You only remember me and the intensity of my love and affection whenever you are feeling lonely.

22 | 31 Poems for August 2016

I’ve been looking all over for you, so tell me where have you been?
You can’t seem to remember how you got to loving me the way you do.
I wrote this at around 2 a.m. on a Sunday morning while thinking about you.
You will always be my favourite love poem, written on the sands of time.
Now that I’ve finally found you, I never want to write our breakup poem.
I didn’t know how good love felt until the day you began to love me the way you have.
Sometimes my communication skills are as bad as my handwriting is.
But my kisses are as good as my intentions, so you can go ahead and rub your smile onto my lips.
You have become the poems and stories woven in the veins of my loving heart.
You are the reason why I remained whole while my world was falling apart.
I’ve been looking all over for you and I’m glad that I’ve finally found you.
My hands were writing about love long before I knew what poetry was.
But I didn’t know what love was until the day you began to love me.
I’m banking on you to not withdraw from the love we have both invested in.
Even though the world may read the pages of my heart, my poetry will always belong to you.
Now that I’ve finally found you, promise me that you’ll never let me go.

13 | Heartbreak in Hatfield

I’m losing you but you aren’t even mine, you belong to someone else.
I assumed you’d have good intentions for me but that was my mistake.
I assumed; how reckless of me to have assumed the most positive of things.
I’m losing you but you aren’t even mine to love yet you’re always on my mind.
But how lost do I have to be in order for you to come and find me and love me wholeheartedly?
I wish people would never ask about my love life because it seems like I could never love or be loved right.
I need peace of mind before my mind ends up in pieces because I can no longer stand being alone.
I should’ve just left you alone; I shouldn’t have turned your heart into a home.
I looked for love in all the wrong places and fell in love with all the wrong faces.
Maybe in your quiet time at exactly the right time, you could possibly be mine to love wholeheartedly.
I finally understand it now; I’m a hopeless romantic who will always insist on remaining hopeful.

29 | 31 Poems for August 2017

Get me a bottle of ***** and a glass of Hennessy.
Give me love and I will provide unforgettable memories.
I wouldn’t readily admit this, but you’re my love and you’re my light.
God always hears our prayers so I know that we are going to be alright.
You will never lose me to the wind no matter how hard it decides to blow.
I had given up on love and happiness before you walked into my lonely life.
From a distant stranger to an unforgettable muse all the way through to sharing several glasses of wine with you.
I’m banking on you to not withdraw from the love we have both invested in.
When people ask, let them know you found love in the city where jacaranda trees light up the streets with their purple blooms.
I want to dive into the ocean of your love until I’m soaking wet with happiness.
Until I am drowning in the depths of your love with no need of being rescued.
Love and liberty is all I need from you until our grey skies go back to being blue.
But I could never spend the rest of my life without someone as amazing as you.

18 | 31 Poems for August 2017

Love is not a mystery; it’s every beautiful thing that I ever wanted it to be.
Love is the colour of you, love is beautiful with all its flaws and complexities.
I’ve been enslaved by my own emotions and you were always there to liberate me and provide devotion.
Love is when I still write about you in hopes that one day you’ll read all these words and hopefully find your way back to me.
Love looks like her in the evening after a long day when all she wants is a warm bath and peaceful sleep.
Could I ever be blessed with the chance of having my heart beating inside her chest again?
I still want to read all the love letters her lips and hands are yet to write so effortlessly on my skin.
I’ve cried myself to sleep on days when the world was dancing to the rhythm of my heartbeat.
Love has always taught me that I cannot continue loving you from a distance.
Home is where the heart is and I never for a second wanted you to leave.
You still have my heart beating in rhythms that are foreign to my existence.
Is it better spending all this time apart while admiring each other from a distance?
Love is praying every single night to God and hoping that He sends you back into these loving arms.
Love looks like her in the morning when she wakes up looking all beautiful and carefree – you’d swear she had eight hours of sleep.
I’ve been enslaved by my own emotions and with love I have conquered everything that the world said I would not.
Love is hoping that you find happiness and love is also having you sharing that happiness with me.
Love is not a mystery; it’s every beautiful thing that I ever wanted it to be.

10 | 31 Poems for August 2016

Love me like you promised me you would.
Love me like I still know you can and I still know you can.
For the first time in a long time, I feel a whole lot of love here.
So love, please don’t walk away or decide to disappear from me.
I’m banking on you to not withdraw from the love we have both invested in.
Because the truth is my heart says that you’re the one, my heart is really growing fond of you.
Love, I used to think that I was bad at this beautiful thing people call love.
But I realised that the problem wasn’t the intensity of my affection but rather the quality of people I chose.
Like a rose, from the concrete I rose and I want you to witness my bloom.
You’ve made me question if all the women I have been with before were really worthy of my love, time and effort.
Love me unconditionally, across beautiful South African cities, over the world’s skyscrapers and beyond the depths of time.
I admire how you have loved me this intensely despite how devastating your previous heartbreak was.
Don’t walk away from me because no amount of ***** or morphine will ease the pain.
Let’s escape from reality with our lips locked to a place far away from the stares of prying strangers.
Please don’t walk away or decide to disappear from me not after you promised that you would love me.
Love me wholeheartedly, across beautiful South African cities, over the world’s skyscrapers and beyond the depths of time.
Love me like I still know you can, love me like you promised me you would.

10 | 31 Poems for August

What’s a painter left to do when his muse is missing?
The paint doesn’t stick to the canvas like it’s supposed to.
Today he was cut deep by all the harsh words she said.
He never understood all the ludicrous games she played.
So far gone, she left with the forest that’s why he’s barely breathing.
He wanted to see her happy but couldn’t bear the thought of her leaving.
It didn’t matter how he felt, she was bound to leave anyway.
It didn’t matter what he did, she was bound to leave on any day.
What’s a painter left to do when his muse is missing?
The paint doesn’t stick to the canvas like it usually does.
Maybe they were never meant to say goodbye.
Maybe if she didn’t leave, they’d still give love another try.
He never knew how toxic she was until he got to breathe in fresh air.
He never thought such heartbreak was something that could occur to him.
The grass is greener on his side but today it needed a trim.
The world is his canvas and she will always be his muse.

19 | 31 Poems for August 2016

These ideas of nightmares I usually have when the night stares.
I know that I unintentionally pushed you away several times that day.
But listen to me, regardless of what happened I still need you to stay.
I’m trying to make more memories but my Kodak has run out of film.
Maybe I should buy a Canon and digitally capture these moments for forever.
“You’ve got hyperhidrosis but don’t sweat the small stuff” is something I imagine you to say.
The future is uncertain and things inevitably change but I’d love for you to stay.
I could try to act all tough and conceal my fears but I’m as scared as you are.
Back when this connection was ignited, we never thought that we would end up this far.

18 | 31 Poems for August 2016

I want soulful conversations filled with happiness, love and laughter.
A little bit of red wine, Sade, Jill Scott and Erykah Badu will do.
Time is wasted so I patiently wait for the clock to get sober eventually.
The sincerity of my words is embedded in the movement of my verbs.
Hope you learn to love your thick thighs and those beautiful brown eyes.
I want to hold you in my arms until you forget what loneliness feels like.
I read your body like the pages and chapters of a novel that I never want to stop reading.
Reading the lines on a woman’s skin is poetry and too many men are illiterate.
So they will never truly understand the fact that liberty begins with literacy.
If you incorporate piano keys into my heartbeat, then I promise that you will fall in love with the melody.
I want soulful conversations filled with happiness, love and laughter.
A little bit of chardonnay, Maxwell, Jill Scott and Erykah Badu will do.
The world is nothing without you, the world is blurry without my muse.
Hope you learn to love your thick thighs and those beautiful brown eyes.
I don’t have much but I have you and with God on my side how can I lose?

My ink bleeds when I give words to your silence.
My ink bleeds when I complement your presence.
My ink bleeds when I'm depressed by your absence.
Your eyes hold mysteries that I would love to untangle.
Happiness fills up the space inside your heart.
Until it finds a way to crawl out.
And beautifully express itself as a paragon of art.
It's amazing how these simple words mean so much.
Eyes close then lips gently touch.
I have no need for poetry when I have your touch.
Your love shows me how simply beautiful you are within.
I'm captivated by you - your lips, voice, smile and grin.
And ever since I met you.
I define beauty by only you.
In the rain of your presence my words form a rainbow.
My heartbeat has been replaced with the sound of your name.
Your love dissipated my pain.
Happily looking forward to the memories I am yet to gain.
I'm left paralysed by your voice.
Still amazed by your poise.
I found my true happiness in your eyes.
I hope you won't mind if I stare.
I hope all the beautiful words you yearn to hear.
All make their way to your ear.
My ink bleeds when I'm depressed by your absence.
My ink bleeds when I complement your presence.
My ink bleeds when I give words to your silence.
My ink bleeds when my heart experiences an emotional violence.
My ink bleeds.

My communication skills are as bad as my handwriting is.
But my kisses are as good as my intentions, so you can go ahead and place your smile onto my lips.
Too often the pronunciation of your name is mistaken for Keanu Reeves’ character in The Matrix.
I dug my own grave right after the masquerade, but when you came along, I swear everything had changed.
I tossed the shovel to the ground and began searching for better days in a city where we both wanted to safe and sound.
We shared our first kiss over pizza, a bottle of red wine and sporadic bursts of love and laughter.
I may have lost your love, but I haven’t lost all the wonderful words I still have to write about love.
In the beginning, I always hoped that this love would have a happy ending.
But it only ended in me writing poems about how we both lost out on this wonderful love.

29 | 31 Poems for August 2016

The girl with a soul like a library keeps getting thicker than the plot does.
So I guess that it’s no mystery why I am obsessed with reading.
She knows that I always have a book in my hand no matter the season.
The day I realised that words could touch her, I wanted to become a poem.
The type of poem that Rudy Francisco’s pen always dreams about.
It doesn’t matter whether it’s winter or summer, when she is the breeze I can never forget to breathe.
She gently holds me in her hands like her favourite author’s best-selling novel.
She told me to write poetry until my heart runs out of ink and my soul runs out of paper.
The girl with a soul like a library fell in love with me not for my words but because I love reading.
She’s composed of all the love poems my pen never had the courage to write.
Because sometimes the pulchritude of her presence is too heavy for blank pages and simple words.
The day I realised that words could touch her, I wanted to become a poem.
The type of poem that Reyna Biddy’s pen always dreams about.
The girl with a soul like a library fell in love with the boy who loves reading.
Reading the lines on a woman’s skin is poetry and too many men are illiterate.
So they will never truly understand the fact that liberty begins with literacy.

It’s not a mystery that I have you here with me.
I rather keep trying than to start somewhere new.
These skies turn from dark grey to light blue.
I’ve been losing myself, wish you could come and find me.
I felt the absence of your presence.
The presence of your absence.
As I re-wrote this letter, I realised that I have to get myself together.
Your closeness takes my breath away.
The words I want to say find no voice.
So in silence I only hope my eyes will show you how my heart feels.
It’s not a mystery that I have you here with me.

25 | 31 Poems for August 2016

A few months ago you didn't know that I could write or recite like that.
My notebook is full of broken masterpieces that fail to come together like contour lines.
If my art goes unappreciated, unnoticed, unloved and unpublished then just know that I wrote from the heart.
I know that love is a beautiful thing but sometimes I feel like its main intention is to tear me apart.
So don’t be too surprised when I tell you that I’m slowly falling to pieces.
The ocean in my muse’s eyes reminds me of the colour of the sky and how I want to dive into the depths of who she is.
The world has made her feel like an abandoned church but in my eyes she’ll always be a cathedral.
She will always be a cathedral and you can say hallelujah or amen to that.
We are from the city where jacaranda trees light up the streets with their purple blooms.
Went from breaking up, breaking down, breaking through to finally breaking new ground.
So even though I’m hurting now I know I’ll eventually be safe and sound when a new season comes around.
I’m still fascinated by spring, jacaranda petals and the countless anthologies that Mother Nature continues to write.
Reading the lines on a woman’s skins is poetry and too many men are illiterate.
So they will never truly understand the fact that liberty begins with literacy.
My notebook is full of broken masterpieces that fail to come together like contour lines.
Even if my art goes unappreciated, unnoticed, unloved and unpublished I will always write from the heart.

I’m from the city where jacaranda trees light up the streets with their purple blooms.
I’m fascinated by spring, jacaranda petals and the countless anthologies that Mother Nature continues to write.
Without a sound, the city’s jacaranda petals fall effortlessly onto the ground.
As they fall, I begin to realise that we are all living in a world where the minutes are working overtime.
I’m reminded of the days when you and I devoted our time to the art of rhyme.
I no longer know where you are in the city but I hope you’re doing just fine.
I’m not where I want to be at this current moment but please give me time.
It’s within our simplicity where I discovered how beautifully complex we are.
Our circles might be smaller but our hearts are much bigger now.
The circumference might have drastically changed but the love hasn’t.  
It’s no mystery why my aura will always long for the company of yours.
Even though I’ve got two left feet, I still want to slow dance to the rhythm of spring’s heartbeat.
In the capital city, October skies glow with a shade of purple.
Went from breaking up, breaking through to breaking new ground.
So even though I’m hurting now I know I’ll eventually be safe and sound when summer comes around.
These pages do not have enough space to describe how phenomenal we are.
It has been a while since we’ve seen each other so where are you now?
I value all you taught me about life and the importance of true friendship.
The circumference might have changed but the love between us hasn’t.

I’m from the city where jacaranda trees light up the streets with their purple blooms.
I’m reminded of the days when you and I devoted our time to the art of rhyme.
I no longer know where you are in the city but I hope you’re doing just fine.
I’m fascinated by spring, jacaranda petals and the countless anthologies that Mother Nature continues to write.

25 | 31 Poems for August

I will continue writing your name onto the sky until the stars embody your beauty.
I want to be the half that makes you whole.
I want to be the poem written on the pages of your soul.
I am addicted to the ink that flows inside your veins.
Drench your heart in ink then pour yourself on a page and become my poem.
A poem that describes your heart’s complexities and desires.
A poem that patiently awaits to be recited.
A poem that exists inside the poet.
A poem that eventually becomes the poet.
I hope my presence will awaken every single poem that gently lays inside you.
What use is my poetry when I cannot recite it to you?
What good is my love when I cannot share it with you?
You are the one song I keep listening to every single day and night.
You are the poem I never knew how to write.
Your love is the story that I have always wanted to tell the world.
I have captured your smile in the lines of this poem.
I want you to be the poem that keeps writing itself on the pages of my soul.
I want you to be the poem that makes me whole.
Plant roses in my heart and promise me you’ll be there when they blossom.
I will continue writing your name onto the sky until the stars embody your beauty.
I will continue writing about you.

2 | 31 Poems for August

Lately I’ve come to realise that I’m scared of what the future holds.
Lost touch with reality, I’m losing most of my control.
I know I don’t show but I have a fear of being ostracized.
I haven’t seen you in quite a while.
Everything has changed, you can see it in my eyes.  
I’m lost and I can’t seem to find you.
I’ve tried being patient but I’m gradually losing time.
On some days it feels like I’m losing my mind.
I’ve been broken, battered and betrayed.
I’ve been booed off stage in a city far from home.
The truth is, I wish I still had an audience I could recite these words to.
Sometimes, sometimes, sometimes I get caught up in my own world too.

There are millions of questions I can’t find the courage to ask.
But even if I did, I probably wouldn’t get all the answers.
I probably wouldn’t be able to fully accept the truth.
There are millions of questions I can’t seem to find the answers to.
I’m not afraid of the dark, I’ve seen the light a million times before.
A million times before I’ve been trapped in this detrimental allure.
My love will never die even when it’s ostracized.

5 | 31 Poems for August

You don’t know who to run to, who to run from or if you should be running at all.
You don’t seem like your usual self, is there anyone that I could call?
Love, the media is not a true standard of beauty.
I wish you would stop measuring yourself according to their scale.
You’re still beautiful, it’s just that their perspective has changed.
You’re ashamed of the bitter woman you almost became.
They taught you how to succumb to the pain and shame.
They taught you how to hate every bit of yourself.
Made you believe that you’d look and feel better if you conformed to the absurd standards of someone else.
They should’ve taught you that the presence of another woman’s beauty is not the absence of your own.
Embrace your crooked smile and all your perfect imperfections.
Stop seeking validation and start loving yourself unconditionally.
Never let the world turn your starry sky into a ceiling.
Wear your crown proudly and embrace the queen that you are.
In a sky full of constellations, you’ll always be someone’s favourite star.
You are ashamed of the bitter woman you almost became.
They taught you how to succumb to the pain and shame.
You are still beautiful, it’s just that their perspective has changed.
No matter what the media says you will always remain beautiful to me.
Always.

“Self-love angers people who hate themselves and she understood that at length.” – Flex Boogie

Poems written to a lost love.
Poems written about a lost love.
In the beginning I always hoped that this love would have a happy ending.
Love listen, I have lost love but I haven’t lost all the words I have to write about love.

4 | 31 Poems for August 2016

I yearn for the type of love that heals countless years of pain.
I crave for your presence in ways that I cannot eloquently explain.
Run away with me, take your hand and hold it closer to mine.
I pray that you never leave me behind because good love is hard to find.
My words have left me, they live on the edges of your lips now.
I’m content with the idea of having my poetry inhabit your daily speech.
Let’s take the time to create a reality worth dreaming about.
With you, I found the type of love that leaves no room for doubt.
After all we’ve shared I realise that I never want to leave your side.
With you, my heart no longer feels the need to hide.
You have the kind of eyes that people could often get lost in.
You have the kind of eyes that people often get lost in.
I yearn for the type of love that heals countless years of pain.
I crave for your presence in ways that I cannot eloquently explain.