I hope my words
Cauterise all your scars
Strobing light your way

Waking in darkness to brainstorming moments
Warm under covers on this freezing morn,
Recalling the instants of yesterday’s sequences,
How they developed and how they were born……

“Moving with grace in a form fitting garment,
Curves in the shadow light tauntingly near,
Beautiful lines in a moment of weakness
Titillate senses erotically clear.”

“Watching the mouth of the bigoted warbler,
Watching him spout his idolatry spiels,
Rhetoric of mind bending, **** licking garbage
Image of self is the place that he kneels.”

“Urgency now with insurances deadline
Making provision for payments now due,
Juggle the baksheesh for paying the piper
Or the cruelty of bankers will cauterise you!”

“Laughter arouses the happiest moments
Merriment opens the faces so well,
Emotively gracious the giving of laughter
Contagiously, wonderfully ringing the bell.”

"Uncomfortably caught in the midst of an untruth
Unconscionably really, can’t call it a lie,
Got caught in momentum of tale in the telling
Upsetting me now to the point where I cry.”

"Can’t recall why, but I know there’s a matter,
Ripping my britches to try to recall….
Something importantly, now to be dealt with
Frustratingly lost in the fog of it all.”

"Harmonies rise like a mist in the temple
Delicate cadences rise and they fall,
I wonder why God allows this unbeliever
To sing with the Angels in his Holy hall?”

“Running my fingertips over her curvature
Feeling the ***** line plummet to fall
Knowing the thrill of elicit collusion
Anticipate promise of wanting it all.”

Sudden alarm in the midst of a waking
Urgency calls at the dawn of the day,
Heaving my soul into frost waiting fingers
Leaving my dreams in the warmth where they lay.

Marshalg
“Pukehana Paradise”
Auckland NZ.
22 June 2013

We barter a handful of memories,
for a heart full of sorrow.
As we have done for centuries,
future happiness we borrow.

We measure our capacity for love,
with a defiled metre stick of self-image.
Never trading with those they see above,
because what is already broken is difficult to damage.

There is not much that can compete,
with the feeling of being desired.
Once we lose it, we feel incomplete,
like a crossword puzzle being retired.

And with that pain left behind,
we forget the world right ahead.
Up in arms against our minds,
down-and-out, we feel dead.

Here comes another I refuse to trust,
lest my heart be crumbled to dust.
Yet when I caught her eyes,
all past wounds she did cauterise.

This time I say it true:
Bartered love - I hate you.

All the Art of living lies in a fine mingling
of letting go and holding on.
Keep love in your heart and lay it down
on a sunshine garden where the flowers start to cry.

Find a place inside of you where there's a joy,
and the joy will cauterise the pain.

The terror of society kept you from revolting,
which is the basis of morals is
broken.
Feel the freedom on your feet and carry on walking.

I'm alive yet looking for something authentic, to be spoken.
Let the weapon out and be myself once again.

And cease the fire.

She is of the opinion that the way to get out
of feeling stuck or dragged in life is
to turn off all lights off in her room
and ****** Fall Out Boy songs
by playing on repeat.

She glows
when silence becomes as a whole
and fritters away every morning;
the hues and harmonies
of unfrequented places
floating

The foretold stories of her hums
to her heartbeat
as to sync with her departed smile
it seems to move such a scope
for hope
from Clouds of Atlas
only to cauterise all in flames.

Time past,
and comes last in sight
when she is at ease
and those unseen awful thoughts in her mind
wane away

Her body stumbles and her words fumble
like life and fear equal shadows
of used things-

Doubt,
that she is.

Sinner, kneeling at the gates
Break him, broken man
Beat vice from flesh
****** mess, lying at the gates

Take firm in hand, the mind
Cut free tethers of memory
Cauterise lingering pride
Childish fool, crying at the gates

No longer, earthly bonds ensnare
Pulp made from flesh
Prisms clutter the sanity
Perfect creation to wander alone

They sodomise my eyes
Penetrating ill content
Sickening imagery—cauterise an African man’s pride
Categorize me in a dark corner of their globe

How so the world spins
But we are to turn our eyes the other way
If not forced to conform to their ways, their ways confirm
We’re shunned from their perfect world

They created diseases to charge their victims of a cure
Stole the wealth of our land, to sell an end product labelled new
If only we knew the threat we pose, as they’ve always known
Placing bonds of pricey chains of, “hey I’ve got the latest iPhone”
Leading us to scorn our own kind; a few softwares behind,
“eek, your version is so old”

****** virgins/versions;
Non experienced in their translation of purpose
If said the future is only possible if we all connect
I guess we’re the ones always out of service
To conform to your ways to guarantee your service
—Are we your servants
Carrying the destruction of your wars like surrogates

To the outer world
That believes I still live outside
Fascinated whenever I see a white
Those of my whites from Africa somewhat more relatable
To my struggles, than an African American
Supposedly my brother from another mother

No, no, my dearest brother, you have Africa in title
But not inside of you. We weren’t taught by the same mother
We didn’t go through the same hardships
We’re more like distant cousins
Who only seem to relate by our skin colours
Even though you’d see me as different,
Though being much darker

To the outer world; altering my nation to your outer works
                  I’m sorry, but I can’t live in your perfect world

Blood drips daily.

I say I feel nothing
Don't want to draw attention
From those who suffer openly.

I am strong, but I am weak,
And I can't admit defeat.
Not to you, whose face is so **** smug,
All the time.

Let me be the bite that tears your flesh
And let me cry acidic love,
It will cauterise me, eventually.

I'm coming for you.
We have many years left to live,
You and I.

Unless you end it now.
Coward.

To be one of them, to
become an automaton
give the ultimatum
and
flick the switch.

Not for nothing is
hate an anagram of heat.

There are no yes men here.

Everything aches,
but mostly the heart
when you want to be
but
are no longer a part
of the conversation.

just cauterise my eyes
so I can't see the lies
that trip over your tongue.

Cauterise  the wounds
to heal and
feel the pain
again

Coincidence makes sense only with you:
Each time your vision beholds my mind falls
eschewed. Grounded as cascades of the new
intensify shadows surrounding gall.
Wight wrought thoughts call, haunted emblems intrude;
fractured gleams of beamed brilliance retreat
to beats of swallows and groans. Sighs accrued
collide with entombed chaos in demise;
searing bright flashes amidst seascapes dark,
burn wounds cauterise heart murmers. Aris-
ing proffers perplex vexed-descending arc;
Sweating palms, butterfly flutters, deplete,
or so it's wished, sketched by movements sublime;
shimmering waterfall pooling divine.