there are city streets I have not paraded down
and stars I have not kissed beneath
there are bridges to be crossed
and burned
elevator buttons to push and flights of stairs to climb

I have a thirst to see the world
I want to scrape the corners for every last taste
I want to awake in a city I don’t belong in,
but I have potential

sometimes I think about how much time I wasted on you
wanting to be labeled as “Yours”
how silly of me to forget
what the world is holding for me outside of your arms

From the moment of my procreation. My story was written, nature took its cause and **** happened. I was assigned to live freely according to my will but he? He was unexpected and I was clueless. Yet he was my one desire he filled me so elegantly. However, he was something, someone out of my reach . He was something, someone not written in the law of my nature

Emotions, they rained down and over my body, my soul, that liquid, dripping sensation, that toxin, that sin. Yet there was still that ****** I was oblivious of. Not every emotion I have felt, but I was yet to discover. The emotion I yearned to know was love. But the love I wanted to know, was not the love I needed to know. It was not written.

But my curiosity lend me to search what I thought was missing, having karma biting me on my  backside, teaching me a lesson leaving me scars and marks of my curiosity to remind me of my unrighteous sin, it which taught me to be patient with the world. But this hunger and strive that lived in me made it an obligation to soul search.

But it the mist of my soul search he had my everything of mine.
My mind,
my body,
my soul
and ....
my heart.
Black hearted, stone cold he gave two things his body and mind the rest was not written in the laws of my nature.


By Cheyanne Ntangu

Trees of emerald and expectations,
taking root in dirt and damnation,
grow fruits flowing full of flirtation.

Children complain of chapped lips,
clinging to women's waning hips
as drunkards are in dire need of one last fix.

Suffering stomachs grumble
and morose mouths mumble
of a society that continues to crumble:

Demanding water of a well they dried,
without any tears, the people cried
for their way of life had died

in a world governed by greed,
while the people bleed
blood of toil and seed.

But power is now paper green,
and the forlorn farms stay pristine
while the people are lying in between
dying
and
death.

You are a shiny cup I found that drew me close, and willingly without measure or restraint I have continually poured myself into you...I'm thirsty now...

Your smiles, love, and presence fuel me,...but it'll be passion filled words, kisses and love making embraces that'll quench me... But you don't pour

Instead of pouring myself into you, I'll drip the drops of desire I hold for you, and ache for from you...then you might know what it is to thirst for more...to thirst for me...

We'll start the fire
in morning streets
with a flick-clip
on a matchbox
and light a trail
we made to steps
headed for a bed,
this time with no
extinguishers or
hanging fire exits.

Lovers are thirsty
Till they don’t drink the love potion
Their souls are aching
Till they don’t delve into each other*




© Amitav (Radiance)

To be addicts
we are fated
always thirsty
never sated.

Bliss in a cup
Coffee is required
similar to a drug
It keeps us wired.