Words are still written
Quietly posted online
So people may read

Comments are still posted
Words are carefully chosen
So no one gets hurt

Rush is still remembered
Mind is yearning for a real fix
Not methadone worlds

I am still addicted
Methadone keeps me in check
It will not cure me

She uses the window
As a mirror
At night
When she prepares herself
For bed

She uses the window
As an audience
At night
When she slowly undresses
For bed

She uses the window
For showcasing
At night
When she knows you are there
Watching

She uses the window
To tease you
At night
When she moves before you
For her pleasure

She uses the window
To trap you
In the night
When she no longer requires
Your attention

I delved deep this time
Leaving a great pit
Inside
And I let insects and reptiles
Nest and hatch
To fill the void
And to harbour evolution
In a nutshell
But monsters grow fast
In darkness
And absence of words

I know of no times
sweeter
than mornings
with you

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

She is the wind
That sweeps through their minds
A roaring tempest of ideas
And untamed emotions

She is the rock
Their playground
Upon which they build
Their castles

She is the ocean
Her sapphire mirrors
Reflect their dreams
Dilute their nightmares

She is the fire
In which they burn
And from the ashes
They shall rise with her

what if space
between us
did not expand

and if we
did not move
in circles

would we
at some point
collide?

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

I never could do anything
Right
Although I was good
I was
always one step
Away from perfection
Always a pound too heavy
Or a pimple to many
From beauty
In my mum’s eyes

And now I won’t
try
Because I can
Choose not to
Try to live up to
My mum’s sense
Of perfection
And I do
I actually feel
Rather perfect
As I am

I knew him
Waited
Feared
Longed
Before I met him
He never said he wanted it
He never said he didn't
Never told me no
But somehow
Anyway
By the way
He has always had access
to My heart
My thoughts
My soul

My daughter
The superhero
Just told me
How she made
The London Eye
Out of helicopters
With their rotors
Broken off
And a gigantic wheel
Much bigger
Than herself

Of course
It's much bigger
Than her
She's only 4 ;)

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.

a proper heretic
she tried to save the unworthy
believed they had potential
and she even healed her opponents

she took disciples
who would gladly spread her words
before her allies
burned her at the stakes

Nausea
Is silent
expectation
and silent
treatment
when not
met

This needle goes
Right through
My kevlar skin
Shooting
Essence of
You
Into my veins

I fall

This is
My escape

We come out for air
To sit for a while
In freedom
Of choice
With dangling feet
From the ledge
Above hundreds
Of others
And busy strangers
Far down there
We come out
To end the day
Neighbours
Watching neighbours
Contemplating freedom
Of choice

He takes it all in
He inhales
The poison
The misery,  the despair
All in one breath
And without a filter
Then resigns
He lets it all float
Because he cannot
Change
Anything
It seems

I felt it that morning
as soon as I opened my eyes .
I felt it like a lump
a malicious tumour
spreading

I sensed that he was awake
that he was also aware
of the looming change
the air was dense with words
unspoken
but his countenance spoke for him
I sensed his frustration
his words struggling to get out
but he couldn't
words were not his territory
like they were mine
So I spoke for him
like I always had
but that morning
for the last time

As the pale January sunlight crept in
I asked him if he wanted out
he did not speak
he just nodded
and the lump between us
exploded

We died that day
so he and I could live

naively
she thought
she would outwit him
and escape
somehow

The sounds
In the public library
With the bass
In her pulse
Made a discreet
Soundtrack
To her first reading
Of O

I watched him wait in the sunlight

October had nearly passed

and the light had turned the whole world golden

I watched him wait on a bench in the golden sunlight

a majestic construction towering in the background

a rusty golden

I watched him wait for me on a bench in the golden light

his hair still dark but greying at the temples

his skin momentarily golden in the October sunlight

I watched him wait for me on a bench in the golden Paris sunlight

a rusty golden

I paused

took a mental picture of him on the bench in the golden October sunlight

with the Eiffel Tower in the background

He had remembered

Then I smiled and left

a removal of
a woman's hair
always seems
so serious

He's ok
The kids are ok
She
will be
ok

once she entered darkness
she knew
she would not return

My writings are quite versatile
I don't settle for one single style
Sometimes rhymes come rushing to mind
sometimes I cannot even find
a single one

I may write haiku
compelling simplicity
in seventeen beats

In all I write
and everything I am
there is dedication
and genuine love
of language
and what can be said
when rules are bended
but never broken

She had tried to grow them
For years she had watched others
How they had theirs
Bloom
But nothing happened in her
Windowsill

Now they sat there
Beautiful and vibrant
For all to admire
Through her window
Forever perfect
Sewn
Not grown

My world is folded
My mind is bent
Manipulated by
And itself
manipulating language
To counter the real
The brutal
With fragile structures

Language
A simple
Immaculate beauty
Though filthy at times
It can be turned
And flexed
with verbs and adverbs
Mistakes can be erased

Folded and written
My mind
This world
Where we meet
Is beauty
Imagined and executed
It is my escape

I fell in love
when I was only 20
a comfortable
and affordable
pursuasive love
with a lawn
and green jaquard curtains
and gold ornamented
dinner plates
that blocked out all.

He fell in love too
and he was also 20
hed not known better
mowed the lawn
watched tv
and ate
not from the ornamented plates
for they were reserved
for special occasions
like the crystal glasses
we got for Christmas

Our love was dear
we spent fortunes
but did not go anywhere
did not dream
until one day
he left
and took half
of our collection
of gold ornamented plates
before we got to use them
I cried for that love

...seems like a different life

He found me
Lost on a page
Among shadows
Slightly broken

He read me
In my words
And showed me
Another world
With his

He amazed me
With every syllable
With every rhyme
The wealth
In his world
Of language
And artful
Imagery

He invited me
Trusted me
To take a look
Beyond
His fabulous rhymes
Beyond
His paper self
Beyond surface
And mask

I still get lost
In paper worlds
But I fear not
For I have a guide
A paper friend
Better than me
This time

Up there on the top shelf
Carelessly stowed away
Is a paper plane
Is has been sitting there for a while
Collecting dust
Connecting cobwebs

It has a pilot
Carefully depicted inside
He's waving at me
Telling me to hop along
Once more

We used to fly
Go on magic paper adventures
In that fragile paper plane
We would explore paper worlds
Playfully made up as we needed them
And we would return
With mysterious smiles
Secret memories
No one would understand

But secrets were one day exposed
A terrible storm blew up
Lightning torched the paper worlds
All flights got cancelled
And the paper pilot was sacked

...

As I gaze at it once more
I sense him waving at me again
I smile
My bags are packed
I'm ready to go

I wave back at him
And leave a paper note
Then I walk out of the door
The taxi is waiting
To take me to the airport

I built a paper world
He helped me
He flew my paper planes
And let me dive from them
Onto a paper lake
He took me hiking in paper mountains
Seduced me in a paper cabin
And left me high
Lying on the paper floor

I built a paper world
He helped me
He drew my images
He filled my pen
But a storm arose
Carried off our paper world
And blew it into the fire
Torched it
Now it's gone.

With everyone's attention fixed
on the bomb in town
killing eight important men
and women
the island was calm
like a safe haven
getting safer
for the passionate youth
assembly
as a policeman arrived
by boat

But he did not talk much
did not answer questions much
on the boat there
and as they arrived
he shot those who asked
and the coast was clear

Like in a violent game
there were shouts and screams
and he cheered
with every experience ****
and as exploding bullets tore
bodies
and sent frightened fugitives
to their deaths on the cliffs
or in the cold water
he laughed
and he killed more
than just the spirits
of 69 youths
that day

I hope this is a ****** joke
That there's no fire only smoke
Coming from guns loaded with ire
But lacking the guts the triggers require

I hope,  Sicko, that you're okay
That this is just another display
Of frustration or anger or sadness
I don't know,  help me,  this is madness!

Crying fire like that on the phone
Yelling help in that convincing tone
Quite an actor,  you are,  what a stunt
You must take me for a stupid ****

Tell me,  why did you send that text
When you know what will happen next
I'll be out of my my wits with fear
That you might this time actually disappear

It's been days now,  and I'm losing hope
I thought jokes were your means to cope
Now I'm not so sure this is fun
If it is, then please stop,  you have won!


Please respond,  please,  I beg you, call
I shall not hold a grudge at all
I just hope that you're safe, okay
Help me chase that paranoia away.

Dizzy
Disoriented
We have to climb
Our destinies
Upwards always
For distributing
Disease
Devastation
Disaster

Before they burst
From our heads
The ascocarp
Like alien flowers
Growing for weeks
Before blooming
With spores
Of infectuous
Beauty
And their asci
Carrying collective
Doom

They enter the bus
Conversing
About busses
Like this one
And other passengers
Taking up space
Designated for them
They do not address us
But clearly
They are talking about
Us
Like they sit in the lobby
In cheap chartered hotels
Taking up space
Conversing
About other guests
Being loud
Or obnoxious
They do not address us
Or ask who we are
But clearly
They assume
And they are talking
About us

inside
this fever
I try
to collect thoughts
like pebbles
with my gigantic mittens
and they transform
become birds
or butterflies
and I sink
into rubbery dreams
where my limbs
are like threads
in a spider's web

Dried youth
Peels off
My face

Like paper
Memories
Of touch
Of years
And beauty
Past

My skin was always whole
its pristine surface white
with only a few constant
bruises

I always bruised easily
my bones never broke
but I hurt
my skin never tore

I had no scratches
never cut myself
But I was dark
in certain places

I should not wear short skirts
they would show

Perhaps it is here
In the blank
uncertain

space
between the lines

perhaps
we will find
that
which we do not agree on
but also that
for which we long
so much

perhaps it is here
somewhere

They gotta eat
Too
The swine
To feed us
Chops and bacon
They don’t discriminate
Or complain
If I feed them
Dirt
***** pieces
Of trash
As long as I grind it
Good
And I do
I treat them
Proper
Before
Slicing and dicing
And feeding them
To the animals
And thus
later
To you

in the dark
a heart is pleading
mistress, have mercy!

With letters equipped
And grammar as our harness
We set out to explore
Through linguistic playfulness

Intrepid explorers we are
In the realm of language
Seeking beauty and outlets for pain
Finding use for the worst kinds of baggage

On lofty expressions we climb
With masks of rhymes to lend air
And we endlessly seek new frontiers
Be they haiku or tanka we'll go there

For to dare venture into adventure
Using only your pen and your mind
Letting others read into your soul
Isn't that intrepid defined

With petals of crimson
fragility
it caught their curious eyes
standing amidst the sturdy
wholesome and healthy
straws
all swaying
to the whispers
of the gentle summer breeze

It stood there
a tall stranger
among them
not pretty like the rose
not timid like the violet
and without real purpose
but colour
and its ruffled capsule
of secrets

They spotted it
saw its colour
decided to pluck it
take it away
for its floral beauty
and put it on display
in a crystal vase
somewhere
until the petals fell

It died
without beauty
and with nobody's lament
within minutes
of leaving
the rugged field
within hours of finding
its purpose

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

like a whisper
is loud
on the backdrop
of silence

like a crocus
is a colour bombshell
in the sterile white
of snow

my darkness
is a chaotic horror fantasy
in the blissful calm
of day

There might have been two
exchanging kisses with tequila
on torsos and tongues
salty zing
and a friend mingling
mixing and masking slight
burns
and the tequila might have evaporated
only tongues and torsos left
thighs...might have touched
and a tongue tickled the two
others
in turns

The door
the door had always been locked
the door had always been locked and no key
they said
the door had always lacked a key

the sounds
the sounds came from the door
the sounds came from behind the locked door
I could tell
there was something behind that door

a voice
a voice kept calling
a voice kept calling pleading and calling
for  me
a voice kept calling for me to come downstairs