"kemba" poems
For never felt like a being
But in a glimpse, I felt like an happy child
Catch me not angels
Save me not my creator
From this rare gift of life
For my heart now cries and craves for Eve
Drunk by the liquor of fate
Driven by the nature
into the mystery of love
Light to the soul
Which makes man weak
To resist, my last thought
For the bond is too strong to fight
Afraid, it may lead me 9ft to the ground
Always want your warmth lips on mine
Your cold breath on my neck
For, whenever nature disappoints you
I will be your superhero , saving the day
For when you are asleep
I will be awake, wide open
Like a Guardian angel
For you are a star to be kept jealousy
For u read me like the Reverend reads the Bible
For I shall expose my demons to you
But this fear I fight might prevent you
From seeing me perfectly
For am in my jungle, painting pictures
Shedding tears, from my past pages
Too nervous to continue the journey
But it seems you know it all
Catch me not for I have
Fallen in love for the first time
You are mine
. ...... Inspired by J. Cole
Song.... She is mine prt 1
Album .... 4 ur eyez only
Cc @Kemba Mark
Sep 8, 2017
Sep 8, 2017 at 6:35 AM UTC
SYRE
A beautiful confusion
A story of a boy
Who chase the sun set until it chased him
A boy in a beautiful pink world
That lost his placement
Who bleed of amnesia in a case of new memory
Who travel through the mountains
To regain his memories
To remember the past,
But was troubled by words that burns his chest,
He can’t spit them out
He tries to put this words on page so he can feel like himself,
But still it feels like a reverse of him
As he tries to put them on page,
They squeeze and squeeze and he lose them.
He tries to understand the words in his heart
When he does they helps
When he doesn’t they burn.
The words are like worms,
They eat, breed and sleep
But once he managed to put them on paper
They stay still and more come
And he hopes to catch them hopefully,
So that she can see, so that we can see.
KEMBA MARK
2018
Jan 4, 2018
Jan 4, 2018 at 7:54 AM UTC
So, here on my arms are marks,
Marks I have made,
With blades of my inverse self
For messing up my body
For making my temple a living sacrifice to my demons
That here is my testament, that I may confess,
That I stood on a bridge of dilemma
For the demons of darkness,
Cut out my heart
Right out from my mouth
With my blood tasting like corroded iron
And the taste lingers on my tongue and soul for years
That when I smile, I want to frown inside
When I laugh, deep inside I want to cry
Deep inside,
I want to burn myself,
Turn to ashes
Die and be free
For ashes are not dead men
But bodies, flying in freedom.
KEMBA MARK.
2017.
Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 2:11 PM UTC
MY TESTAMENT 2
Today as a bird, I bath with the rays of the sun
And as I fly, I speak my thoughts out loud to the sky
Sending messages to my past and those that dwell in It
That Depression is Oppression,
Defined by self-hate
Which seals its prisoner’s fate
Stabs and jabs to see you bleed
Holds man captive and throws out the key
Makes man walk on abandoned beaches
And know the death of places
It makes you walk pass cabins,
Cabins, that holds memories of past your lovers
It makes you live your past in the present
And disorient your future.
It makes you taste the city of joy in you
But feel the cities of grief
Depression are memories fighting to stay alive
It is a woman crying into herself
They are footprints
Leading to a map pf hopeless kingdom.
KEMBA MARK
2017.
Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 6:01 AM UTC