I know I should stop criticising
Every minuscule error in revising
The grammar in here
I should not interfere
And I really should stop analysing

But I cannot erase what I see
And the teacher insists inside me
That I share what I know
About grammar and how
To revise before posting for the world to see

Your and you're are some major sinners
They make good poets look like beginners
Plus confusions in tense
Make them seem rather dense
And that's sad when they should look like winners

A swarm of flies buzzing
In the summer sun
The grass still moist
From morning drizzle
Emanating
An unreal shade of green
To contrast a perfect sky
And the pieces
Of milky white
And burgundy
Hastily scattered
In the field
Waiting to be reassembled

Still tasting it
feeling the rush
off its fill
although hours
nay! days have passed
without

Oh! The hunger
The yearning for another
taste
longing to feast
on the flesh
and the blood
visualised
in words

Starvation
days without
even drops
dripping
****** letters
onto a page
inviting to drink
days without
sentences filling
screens
like a syringe
ready
to penetrate
the soul
with the essence
of dream

I used to hold dinner parties
Crammed inside my dorm room
And later in our small flat.
Food was served on cardboard plates
And wine in plastic mugs
With plenty of laughs for dessert

I have glasses now
Fragile and polished
And stacks of porcelain plates
All stowed away
Behind glass doors in our cupboard
Where we can admire them

In the dark we form
From the nebula
Of hydrogen and dust
We compress
Under massive gravitational force
Slowly rotating
we increase
In matter
But pressure from others
And our own gravitation
Causes our collapse
We cool down
Emitting infrared light
And radio waves
And we spin faster
As our spin increases
Temperatures rise
And once more
we form
With centrifugal force
A central core
Stable
And a revolving disc
Of future planets
Soon orbiting
Our heat
Caused by the friction of bodies
Makes us glow
Our fusion
prevents further contraction
And begets jets
Intense beams of radiation
For lifeforms to enjoy
Or fear

But we know
That when the hydrogen fuel is spent
This star too
Will begin to die

I wish I could go in person
to check
to see if you're lying
to see if you're just pretending
only playing tricks
and that you haven't seriously gone
to another place
where my powers cannot reach
you

I wish I could ask somebody
to check
to see if you're still alive
to see if you're breathing
only silently
and not because you're reaching
for a higher ground
than the one we can offer you
here

I saw the great change in him
After he saw the nyanga
As if something was tailing him
Something sinister from the Okawanga

He wanted to gain mental strength
That was why he sought witch doctor help
So together they went to great lengths
To summon the Tokoloshe for this whelp

Born of ****** and sinister thought
The foul creature was called to this world
And a wake of ill doings it brought
Causing fear in each boy and each girl

With this new friend he didn’t need me
But he still needed praise and accept
So he brought me along just to see
How he ***** a girl whose blood he kept

In a bottle for pride in his deed
After he killed her and chopped her up
“I was brought there to watch her bleed”
That’s what I said, when I told the cop

The Police came and took him to jail
But the Tokoloshe followed him inside
Soon he vanished, no trace, not a trail
And rumours said Tokoloshe helped him hide

No one saw him for several days
But a rise in disappearances occurred
And soon he revealed his wicked ways
He stole belongings from his victims, I heard

So, he was caught again but not held for long
His Tokoloshe had not finished yet
It was his purpose to match evil with wrong
And **** and **** whomever he would get

18 months he was on the loose
Sometimes aiding police investigations
He would help them pick up the clues
So he could re-live the gory exhilaration

They could only find partial remains
Tokoloshe had made him use his axe
Rather thoroughly and thrown them off trains
He made sure souls would never relax

When they caught him the final time
He was smiling with satisfaction
He felt no sense of remorse for his crimes
Now he hangs as the judge’s reaction

Tokoloshe is still hiding somewhere
Coming out at night when your dreams are deep
Wreaking havoc and causing a scare
Biting toes, ****** women in their sleep

She wanders the streets unnoticed
past the news stand
with a front page giraffe
and letters in a foreign language
she barely speaks
sometimes she sits on the edge
of a bench or a litterbox
to rest her legs and her sore stilettoed
feet
She doesn't talk much
she has no friends
just work
and people
even the media
leave her alone

Maybe if she was a giraffe
with big eyes
and an enormous mythological heart
to pump blood through her neck
to her head
and to pump news around the world
Maybe then
someone would notice her?

For what news is she
compared to a giraffe
put to sleep humanely
purposefully
to secure its species
then displayed in scientific lectures
as insight for future generations
and lastly fed to lions
as if it had died on the savanna

But what purpose has she
that ******* the street
other than serving urban lions
she knows
no one will care
no one will learn from her experience
let alone from her death
by lions

All this sunshine
And these branches
With leaves and overflowing juices
Saps and morning dew
Surround the bricks
And the polished steel
Of content frigid happiness
Boxes
All these boxes
With things we must do
And rules for obtaining perfection
All this liberty
With obligatory attachments
And abstinence
Beauty
All this gold plated beauty
Bought with fruits and flesh
Fresh blood and bodies every month
All this necessity
This war on voices
Speaking out of turn
And living out of tune
Voices
All these voices
All this unspoken nausea
From breathing imitated air
Between designer chairs
And eating love made slow food
Made by soulless unloving people
Love
All this hollow propaganda
Designed to numb
To tell the critics they're dumb
Until they, too, succumb
To the same ideals
As the rest

Words
Immaculate
and beautiful
strings
in patterns intricate
and complex
for strength and viscosity
I hope to spin
and weave
into a web
so I may catch you
if you fall

I see her picturing me
Perfect
In her image
A perfect lacquered surface
Fitting into  
Her polished plastic ideals
But as I rise
The surface breaks
Into an ugly ripple
And her image
Is cracked
Beyond repair

Still wearing stockings
And heels
Red hair dressed
Spread
And open
On flowery covers
But the crayons are blocking
Censoring
All entrances
Views
With bold colours
Like blood and dirt
On legs
Pillows
Flowery covers
Exits
Still relaxed
Hidden
Behind the crayons
Still in heels
Dreaming

continuously surpassing
I know
my obligations
to some this may be
considered trespassing
I empathise
to the point
where I almost idolise
your fragility
and I sympathise
almost to the point
where I would follow
if you chose
to leave

Tiptoeing on velvet vines
silky and smooth to the touch
we dance in the twilight shades
of subtle poetic lines
trying never to say too much
thus preventing that anything fades

Imagining alternative scenes
in flexible collaboration
we dream in adjectives and verbs
as sentences rush through our veins
sweet figment of imagination
all our civilised structures perturbs

Dancing lightly across the keys
our fingers and souls thus create
quiet symphonies on backlit sheets
wishful journeys across the seas
of what we dare only comtemplate
as we immerse ourselves in these beats

Peaceful lush garden
Man and woman innocence
Naively content

Woman unnoticed
Wanders the garden alone
Serpent slithers in

Provocative snake
Challenging teasing reptile
Promising insight

Words of seduction
Spider web weaving forked tongue
Beware of his fangs!

Magnificent tree
The centre of the garden
A fruit is missing

Sweet rush of sugar
Instant awareness of self
No more innocence

Man wakes from slumber
Woman is hiding the snake
But the serpent bites

Venomous passion
Serpent's words linger in dreams
Vibrant images

Woman blunders once
Secrets revealed in silence
Tears repress anger

Fruit offered as truce
Passion shared beyond the dawn
Fruit still forbidden

Man suddenly saw
A snake's tail around her thigh
Was passion a lie?

Slithering away
The serpent had done his task
He was satisfied

Spoken violence
Darkness swallowed the garden
Knowledge was hurtful

Garden gates closed
Knowledge cannot be erased
Cherubs remind them

Woman remembers
blissfully lucid words
And the taste of fruit

Infinite sadness
Knowledge demands reflection
She cannot go back

Spotted
Soaked and
Silently shouting
sobbing
With severe stab wounds
She staggers onwards
Stumbling
On slippery streets
Sometimes she stops
For seconds swaying
On swollen
Sore feet
In sequin stilettos
She is seen by several
But she seems invisible
Insignificant

**** you!
For pretending to be real
Even though we are worlds apart
For offering me this deal
Although it was doomed from the start

**** you!
For always being there
Whenever I needed advice
For being the one to care
Making no other suffice

**** you!
For staying so ******* close
Nearly ****-blocking every girl
For handing me an overdose
Of your over-imaginative world

**** you!
For the feelings so forbidden
That could never be shown to the world
For the connection we had to keep hidden
Or else into hell we'd be hurled

**** you!
For saying you'd be my friend
When really it was a lie
For the rules that you tried to bend
And the words that could make pigs fly

**** you!
For incessantly writing
Those poems of longing and lust
For making them sound so inviting
As if in the dream we could trust

**** you!
For giving me master key
To your innermost secrets and thoughts
For creating such vivid fantasy
Without giving it second thoughts

**** you!
For forcing me thus to end
This wonderful journey of words
I ask you no longer to send
Your thoughts even when it hurts

When the sun in the sky projects
Its fabulous beams of light
I am able to view Earth's beauty
Which is hidden from me at night

So I watch her each day in awe
Of the beauty which light reveals
And I dread the darkened hours
When the night my sweet image steals

But I have a plan stored in my mind
Of a way to make sure that I keep
Having access to images clear
Of my love even when she's asleep

I shall go to that wheel in the sky
And bring back its forceful light
I shall give to my love precious fire
And never again fear the night

Help me, Helios! Give me your source
to illuminate all with its glow
Help me! Get down to Earth with the spark
So the secrets of night I shall know

Here you are,  my love,  here is your fire
I will ask you to kindle its flame
I shall sit here and watch as you sleep
And the world will remember my name

But the gods are not happy at all
They come knocking as soon as they learn
That their celestial privilege is taken
To inferior beings unearned

They'll want their revenge for my crime
So they'll put me in chains on a rock
With an eagle forever to pick
At my liver each day at at always o'clock

when
did cooking your own jam
from real strawberries
and sugar
become an act
of treason against
equality
between the sexes?

when
did turning off the tv, the laptop, the phone
to play with your children
offline
become an act
of valour and extreme
symbolism
in most families?

when
did reading glossy advertisements
and memorising them
for extra credits
become an act
of duty as a proper
citizen
in the modern world?

when
did choosing an alternative lifestyle
deliberately
and with no concern for wealth
become an act
of excentric
irresponsibility
in an enlightened society?

Scattered beneath their faces
In happy fancy colours
Lay toys
Forgotten from yesterday's
Play
But they could not see
As their eyes were painted
******
And shut
Or focused elsewhere
Inside their private dreams
Of escaping
Their masks

could you fix me a joint
get me high
get me some pills
in fancy colours
some snow
get me high
or a syringe
full of heated escape
from my magnificent ego
would you let me drown
with you?

He used to be
used to have a name
a family
but he killed them
shot them dead

To the system
he is a number now
an ex human
excluded
exiled
in his own country
and sentenced
to extermination
someday

Until then
is silence
forever
days upon days
of gradual removal
from their consciousness
and from life
outside

But now we know
and we will not forget
Gene Hathorn
or his story
we will fight
the dehumanising system
we will tell his story
and we will make people
think
and act
like human beings

we were late
the gathering had already begun
a solemn voice recited
his stories
his words
became ours
among whitened walls
behind him were instruments
quiet like us
anxiously waiting
unfamiliar with house
rituals
he finished and we applauded
along with the faces
captured on canvas
and hung with nails
on the walls
The next voice was a woman
she spoke in verse
free, blank,
only slightly
ordered
but sensual
inviting
inside and beyond
our faces
her voice
her body
reflected in the windows
and we were invited
to eat and drink upstairs
that night
with words
and faces surrounding us
voices and music
a strange lady
performing
mostly to herself
but everything
telling more stories
for us to contemplate
until next time

Picture me dancing
On velvetine pathways
Towards sequin peaks in the clouds
I am jumping and skipping
Those ropes you've laid for me
To make sure I don’t lose my way

On the trees I see ribbons
And some flowers for keeping
In colours to match your bright eyes
I am following footsteps
Of chattering parties
Soon I shall be sailing the skies

But rainbows catch fire
And stroboscope lightning
Makes staccato love to me now
Tying senses with ribbons
And handcuffs of neon
I climb to slide down in delight

Recited like truths
meticulously
with attention to detail
perfect intonation
like hymn verses
or poems
but unlike poems
everyone tells them
remembers them
those little designer lies

their creators are worshipped
with gatherings
massive donations
and prayer
No one questions
words so beautiful
so masterfully penned
they must be true
they have to be
we wish...

Green fibres
filter sunlight
to wake me

from emerald dreams
of dark humidity
deep forests
of potent life
Green eyes
watch me
from underneath
my green
pillow

In his oval chamber
He awaits me
With promises
Of sleep
And transformation

He welcomes me
With recollections
Of sleep
And magical dreams
In his arms

Tonight he awaits me
Again

... Or a black hole
In timespace
A supermassive
Imploding thought
Paradox
Pulling
Realities in
And bending all rules
Of existence
Along a splendid
Event horizon.

A single atom
With mass
And gravitational pull
Equalling a large mountain
Devouring all light
Unless friction
of objects heated
From falling
And interaction
Sparks light
Perplexingly fantastic
Brighter than a thousand suns.

I  am the wind
Your mistress
I am a gentle breeze
Playing with your senses
Calling you outside
Whispering promises
Of changing tides

I am the wind
A rough Northern gale
Chilling to the touch
But nature's powerful tool
I turn the oceans
I stir up pools of stale water

I am a violent storm
A fire breathing dragon
I make forests
And dry plains burn
I bring the thunder and the rain
And the air
To kindle your flame

I am the wind
Your mistress
Calling out your name
I am the wind
Commanding
Come meet me outside
Let me touch your face
Let me whisper secrets
As I blow through your chimes

I am the wind
Your mistress
I am the air
I allow you to breathe
I allow your fire to burn
I am the wind
Can you feel me?

I decide
Your fate

Sweet tickle of suspense

Nerves transmitting
f
lashes
of adrenaline

As I           enter
read         perceive

Words

Letters like opiates sent through

Ve
ins

Syllables become
words become
Sentences become
Unthinkable      to separate

Worlds

Impossible to leave
Suspense
seems jealousy driven

Fuels my
AD
DIC
TION

my creation
image
simulation
OF

improbable scenarios

Impropriety.    (     )     fantasies

Unfit for real life.

I suppose I ought to
watch news and drama series
split in bite sizes
by commercial breaks
on television
meant to make me spend
to fit in

I suppose I ought to
read and like Fifty Shades of Grey
and buy fluffy handcuffs
or ******
with blushing cheeks
with my friends
in town
to fit in

I suppose I ought to
tend my garden
and plant pretty flowers
around a well kept lawn
with clean well groomed children
playing neatly
with their dolls
to fit in

I suppose I ought to
stop working at all times
stop writing poetry
and chatting online
with strangers
or students
to act my age
and fit in

They are objects
Of no importance
In our lives
Often carelessly scattered
Ominous
Over ripe
Crinkled
Left
For somebody else
To pick up
But he takes them
To centre stage
On big canvases
With lots of colours
And no filter
Even sewn up wounds
Shine
Beyond the ordinary
Everyday decadence
They become parts
In our stories
Like memories of past
Or future lives
Like they have not been
Before
He saw them
This way
And let us see them
Too

On a day like this
When the air is dense
(with silence)
With summer
And essence of Saturday
Sleeping in
Soothing satisfaction

On a day like this
When my mind is numb
(with happiness)
With motives
And musings about madness
My writings move
Towards malicious mazes

I stand atop

a great solid rock

watching the griant

building fall

a magnificent structure

built among rocks

to penetrate the heavens

and with a view

to sacred springs

now dry.

Now its vacant windows

welcoming the demolition

splinter like rain

and the desperately applied

scaffolding

tumbles to the sides

as its futile presence

becomes obvious.

Something in me sighs

as the majestic tower

is crushed

by the weight

of its own might

and becomes rubble

like the rest.

I go there

with cautious steps

I kick the debris

and pick up a piece

for remembrance.

My problem with meditation
is not a lack of focus
my problem with meditation
is not a lack of visualisation
My problem with meditation
is not an inability to control breathing

My problem with meditation is rather
that the one focus I have
the only images I get
are of bodies, of heat, of heavy breathing
because I cannot close my eyes
without envisioning us.

Gasping for air like fish
freshly landed
we hit the refresh button
desperately
but we have lost all
connectivity
to the sea
we no longer exist

They grabbed me
As soon as I sat down
Twisted my arms
My thoughts
As I tried to break free
Of their pull
Lacing me up
Tying strings
Fugue stories
In and out
Of narrative concepts
Sometimes choking me
with their criss crossing narratives
their multiple voices
Forcing me
To reflect
To rediscover
Reality
In its music

I tried to resist
The noise
The web of multiple choices
Always evading inspection
Resisting interpretation
But the music
The recollection of lost textuality
Pulled me in
And tied me
In an unholy comedy
Of errors
And injustice
A farce
Like this interlaced story
We are all bound to
And tied into

One day
It broke
We stopped caring
about spiders and their webs
dust in corners
scattered toys on the lawn
and neigbours judging
We stopped

But then it began
the construction of new paths
new connections
outside us
morally deranged but marvellous
in their metaphors

And then the fights started
discovery of deceit
the heartbreak
and the revellations
revealing devils and demons
and dark desires

Gradually
It healed
We began to love
not sweet, innocent, postcard love
no! mad, ******, nasty love
a yelling, crying, caring love
not taking anything for granted love
We healed

A crowded platform
chilling sunlight
family witing
for a train home
girls playing
Dad watching
Mum dreamily
gazing up the platform
past the strangers
into the empty air.
It's a cool, windy May afternoon.
Out of the blue
a heatwave
a rush
adrenalin to her heart
HIM slowly approaching
on the crowded platform
determined
dark
dangerous
deceptive
Young!
A dark figure
tall
elegant
graceful
hair like black flames
licking marble skin
eyes like mercury
poisonous
and HE stopped!
Chatted
for they knew HIM
and HE got on the train
with them
sat with them
toxic air
blurring her senses
and HE travelled with them
for a while
silently negotiating
a price for her soul.
And HE left them
as the train stopped
girls tired
Dad focused on a game
Mum slightly
distant...

My hair is not ebony black
Or golden caramel
To make your mouth water
My hair is a crimson flame
A burning red
Passionate fire
like blood fresh from a slaughter

My skin is not gold
Or sunkissed amber
Found by a lucky soul
My skin is pearly white
As the sandy beach
Licked by the powerful tide
But sensitive to the sun
And therefore only seen
At midnight

My eyes are not sapphires
Or deep forest lakes to dive into
My eyes are a darkened blue
like the dizzying midnight sky
Illuminated only by
A plethora of stars right above you

My heart leaps
every time you pack your bags
to leave
it leaps in hope
of a safe return

We board the same
Train
Heading West
On a journey
Through Instagram landscapes
We travel
In open compartments
Where party clad snappers
Make sure the world is
Updated
And that we know
And Facebook knows
Even when they are busted
For free loading
We know
It's their scene
And we're already
Has beens
With our children asleep
Across the aisle
We still travel
In the dark
After they leave
The landscape barely visible
And it is getting late
We are tired
But soon
We will be home
Again

For our sakes
they are plated with silver
now
for our sakes
they are just pieces
of once upon a terrible day
disassembled bodies
flesh
with ragged edges
hung on hooks
for our sakes
collectibles
from afar
they look almost pretty
blood removed
and reasons
like justification
none

Dream seeds
I keep them safe
In my pocket
Like a promise
A possible beanstalk
But how long
I wonder
How long
Will they keep?

Nausea
Is silent
expectation
and silent
treatment
when not
met

Plunging
head first
into dreams
always head first
never toes
I head straight
for the bottom
head first
accelerating
like a bullet
shot
head first
out of a gun
I dive
into dreams
of dreams still
head first
penetrating
the surface
of dreams
head first
I swim
lost for breath
losing time
head first
I aim
to resurface
before I wake up