"kilimanjaro" poems
Born a King
Born a Queen
Born a Slave
Born into freedom only to be
Caged
Shackled bound confined
Scared
Caged
Far from the Motherland
A people
Made sculpt molded
In her image
Brown earth
Yellow sun
Mahogany dark
Like the stone unyielding
Proud like the Kilimanjaro
Minds open like the plains
Of the Serengeti
Free
Only to be brought here
Caged
Used abused overwhelmed exhausted
Caged
Thrown away when aged like broken toys
Broken minds broken spirits afraid of our own image
Caged
Here we stand today with all the technology the worlds knowledge at our fingertips
Caged
Brothers’ sisters’ fathers sons’ mothers’ daughters’ families ripped apart
Torn at the seams no village to be seen
Caged
We are at war with violence ignorance rage
A horrible legacy indeed ……Caged
Our once proud people afraid to face the future
We are creating to our shame the same source of fear ignorance and rage
In our most valuable assets our jewels our destiny
Our children
Our vision
In our cage we destroy each other
We are racist in our own race
We defame denounce deplore each other
Are we comfortable complacent satisfied in our cage?
Our history tell us no our descendents tell us we shouldn’t be
They say to us we have no limits boundaries restrictions
They found the keys to the cage
They urge us they encourage us they push us in the direction of the stars
Come out of your comfort zones
Embrace hold tight pull it in
The spirits of Our Kings Our Queens Our history
Teach if you can learn
Learn if you can teach
Open minds hearts souls
Receive your freedom
Unlock the
Cage.
Free! Liberate! Unshackle!
Black history is not a month it’s your life.
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 4:26 PM UTC
The Ashes of a million souls drift down to the Baranco Wall and Moorland.
Seventeen thousand feet is All
Deep and dead is the cap on Kilimanjaro.
If a tree falls in the Forrest. you will hear it on Kilimanjaro.
Haunting stones on Easter Island whisper in the dead of night
and speak to Kilimanjaro.
Pitcairn Island far and lost.
Fletcher Christians mournful ghost wails and screams as the Bounty burned
a light seen from The Kilimanjaro.
Supai City Arizona in the bowels of the gaping gorge
looks out to Kilimanjaro.
Oymyakon Siberia. Minus 93 degrees. chatter and freeze
akin to The Kilimanjaro
World ends in the stratosphere
Fight for breath face you fears.
Where minutes pass like plodding years
in grasp of Kilimanjaro.
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 3:01 AM UTC
When the sun first shows its beaming face,
at the break of a blissful new dawn.
Your birds that exult with elegant grace,
bid farewell to the night that's gone.
Your flowers ornate your vast lands,
of your priceless treasures they boast.
The besotting Kilimanjaro that stands,
dominating your east coast.
You are home to the best precious stones,
the land of gleaming clear waters.
Garnished with skills and strong bones,
you are served by your dutiful daughters.
The soil that expands on your gracious vest,
the equator that cuts your enormous chest,
birds that bear your golden crest,
are a few ideals of your daring zest.
The treasured soil that fills your vast expanse,
the gracious finesse in your every dance.
From Egypt, to South Africa, Nigeria to Kenya,
From the stupefying Sahara to the beatific Victoria.
I love you dear Africa, The land of the wild,
This poem is for you from your little child.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 8:27 AM UTC
Africa is beautiful and beautiful is usual in Africa
Continental wonderland of love this is Africa
What's in Africa? What's there to see?
I asked myself on the New Year's eve
I thought that I was good in geography
But I didn't know Lagos or Nairobi
I might be ignorant, I have to admit
About Africa I knew just a little bit
The great Sahara - sands of mystery!
The Nile river - so much history!
Africa is magical and magical is usual in Africa
Continental wonderland of joy this is Africa
Namibia, Nigeria, Niger, Angola, Algeria
Burundi, Benin and Libya, Lesotho and Liberia
Burkina-Faso, Botswana, Guinea-Bissau, Ghana
Djibouti, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Uganda, Rwanda, Gambia
I saw a film on Serengeti Park
A one of a kind, a must-see landmark
I watched a documentary on pyramids of Giza
They're much much older than Mona Lisa
I heard that oldest coffee plants
Take their roots in Ethiopia's land
And that samba, rumba, funk and jazz
Take their beats from African drums
Africa is beautiful and beautiful is usual in Africa
Continental wonderland of love this is Africa
Cameroon and Congo, Malawi, Mali, Morocco
Côte d'Ivoire and Kenya, Mauritius, Mauritania
Tunisia, Tanzania, Eswatini, Eritrea
Sudan, Senegal, Somalia, Sierra Leone, South Sudan
You can travel around cities of Africa
Like Cape Town, Cairo or Casablanca
If you're in love or plan to be
Go to Zanzibar, feel that ocean breeze!
Climb up mount Kilimanjaro
Watch the zebras cross the Masai Mara
If you're adventurous, you're a dreamer
Take a wild trip down Zambezi river
Africa is magical and magical is usual in Africa
Continental wonderland of joy this is Africa
Comoros, Chad, Cabo Verde, Democratic Republic of Congo
Ethiopia, Egypt, Guinea, Gabon, Equatorial Guinea and Togo
Madagascar, Mozambique, Central African Republic
Sao Tome and Principe, South Africa and Seychelles
Africa is beautiful and beautiful is usual in Africa
Continental wonderland, I'm on my way to Africa!
May 3, 2022
May 3, 2022 at 7:33 PM UTC
Acerbic antagonist alliterates agonizing accusations,
blasting ******* backbiter butting beautiful bombastic brainy blond bomb.
Cumulative cranial casualties cease caveman's cognitive coherence.
Doom digger derides Daddy's dangling dire dreary ****
Eclectic esoteric eccentric egotistical estranger;
Forthcoming fathoms fetch faithless fleeting father.
God given goblins gather gossamer ganglions;
Hell's hairy harlot harpies hover heeding Hyperion.
Ignatius imbibes irrevocably insisting,
"Jesus juggles justice's joy jarring jams."
Kindness kindles Kilimanjaro;
Malicious mountains melt, Mmm, morning marjoram.
Nothing negates Neanderthal ninnying.
Overt obsessions obfuscate original object of
purest passions, paltry past pinings,
quickly quieted, quelled,
resisted, relinquished, readily, ruefully, roundly
saturated, suffocated; surreptitiously silenced,
terribly torturing the thrashed tamed tormentor:
Ugly, ungrateful, unapologetic,
Vanity,
woefully wallowing, wailing, "Where's
Xanadu's
zeitgeist!?"
Jan 15, 2012
Jan 15, 2012 at 12:09 AM UTC
I am mama Africa, mother of humanity
My soul flows in all people in all places
I am Queen of Shebah the essence of beauty
You see me in people, people of all races.
I am mama Africa yes, I'm the Ashanti Gold
look at my jet black soul, I am forever young
I am ancient, dark, golden glorious to behold
Akwaba my children, sing me the Ebone song.
I am mama Africa, I gave birth to Mozambique
See all my plains spread from ducor to Cairo
Green my fertile soil, dark my soul so unique
I am mama Africa, roots of mount Kilimanjaro.
I am mama Africa, adorned with wealth infinite
Watch my strides, I represent perpetual grace
Hear me my children, cease to fight and unite
Come all ye spirits of Uhuru ,all I want is peace .
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 12:13 AM UTC
Every journey that I take
Every rule that I break
Every moment I create
In you with you
Reminds me of this place
That reminds me of your face
You are the light
At the end of my tunnel
The perfect mountain view
When I climb the slopes
Of our love
I can see
More than
I knew
My Kilimanjaro
My connection
To Christ
My spirit feels alive
When I look into
Your eyes
You are the mountain
My Yogananda
My tender Guru
My greatest crush
That accepts me as I am
You believe in God
You believe in Love
You believe in Friendship
You are the perfect
Mountain view
When I scale the rocks
Of our relationship
Rising with every step
My heart is left
With a feeling of
Completeness
Sweetness
Mother Divine
Has brought us
Together
To share, to ascend
To believe in God
To be my friend
You are the beginning and the end
When you are away
I climb this mountain
Everyday
Wind, snow or rain
Joy or pain
I can go to our mountain
Climbing to the top
This gorgeous point
Holding on to trees
With wings of grace and ease
And the Gods
Are pleased
Let friendship
Lead us to our
Mountain tops
Let Holy Spirit
Guide us there
Let everyone
Who reads these words
Feel the wind of love
Against his face
And in her hair
We are magic
We are flying
We are laughing
We are crying
In the end
No matter where you go
No matter how far
I will know
How to find you
Remind you of our
Friendship
Of our love
Meet me on our mountain top
Look at the stars
As they shoot across the sky
I'll be riding one
Or on a cloud
To meet you there
Waving you a smile
As I fly
You know where
Into your temple heart
On the mountain
Of our
God
Given
Love
If you know
The way I feel
If you feel my energy
You will know when I am near
Without looking you will hear
Me crash into the atmosphere
With the wings that Spirit gave us
To share
Meet me on our mountaintop
The one that reminds me of you
The place that we've found with the perfect view
Sitting on a star
On a comet
Or a gust of wind
So sharp
I will find you
I will find your temple heart
Invite the world
So that we can curl up
Into a blast of light
A spoon of love
Lighting up the heavens
Everywhere
With a love so bright
Every creature in sight
Will witness
Our forgiveness
In the air
Meet me on our mountain top
Look at the stars
As they shoot across the sky
I'll be riding one
Or on a cloud
To meet you there
Waving you a smile
As I fly
You know where
Into your temple heart
On the mountain
Of our
God
Given
Love
tHE tERRY tREE
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 5:39 PM UTC
I could bask in the sunshine
and edit Alaska,
climb Kilimanjaro but
I let others do that and I go into the deep
on my own rhyming rainbow,
watching colours keep dripping,
I should be tripping,stripping the acid run
and taking more out of fun.
I should edit Alaska.make the ice flow much faster,
I am a disaster but
I haven't happened yet.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 3:29 PM UTC
Starlight shines from limousines
On the streets of Monte Carlo
But I'd prefer a cup of tea
In a caff with Gary Barlow.
He'd draw inspiration from
The drabness of the venue
And weave sweet melodies around
The items on the menu.
Spreading sounds of happiness
Around the greasy spoon.
He may be a chub-a-lub
But he sure can write a tune.
I could take him back to mine
To feast on milk and cookies.
Watching pirate DVDs
In my flat above the bookies.
I would part the curtains
So the jealous neighbourhood
Saw me ****** rewarding
The blond scribe of 'Back for Good'.
He could climb atop me
Like he mounted Kilimanjaro
Everything changes forever
Once you've tasted Gary Barlow.
Down to earth despite his millions
Cuddlier than Robbie Williams.
Looking pensive in a vest,
Gary Barlow is the best.
Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 9:23 AM UTC
fragile and self absorbed I've spent a lot of time kneeling
but I've come to find honesty in admitting fear in the new things I'm feeling
there's something about moons and stars being beautiful but out of reach
that I've always found appealing
and I have drown in all my futile pursuits chasing whales into the ocean
but never with my written words, those pros are a dreamers innate commotion
emotional, combustible, percussive, explosions
I've survived a lot of falls and put my heart back together with duct tape
but somehow living always gives me just a little less than it takes
so my words now are few and chosen carefully
and my actions are my attempts at explaining those tangibly
every valentine's bouquet I'm sending
all the anniversary dollars I'm spending
each minute a loving ear I'm lending
but if two people are truly in love, there can be no happy
ending
Hemingway, that's from Snows of Kilimanjaro
an elegant reminder that we've one less day together with every new tomorrow
so I try and explain old emotions as best I know how
if only I could have known in those times the truths I know now
redundant, I'm a record with a deep scratch
tired, I'm the head of a burnt match
useless, I'm a diamond necklace with a missing clasp
bitter, and perpetuating the despair, never letting go of the holes unpatched
hopeful, I'm a dog kicked that keeps coming back
I've survived a lot of falls and put my heart back together with duct tape
but somehow living always gives back just a little less than it takes
I can see that in the wrinkles carving roads in my face by the mile
and I noticed that there's more lines where I scowl than where I smile
duct tape and regrets I've spent a lot of time kneeling
it's probably time to apolgize and stop reeling
but eating my own words sounds uncomfortably filling
so I guess I've said a lot of things that I'll never have the chance for repealing
somehow I've always sensed it since I was very young
that I would always be looking back as I rocketed forward
humming the songs that were already sung
reading old greeting card’s they've forgotten and feeling tortured
fragile and self absorbed I've got a lotta duct tape
survived a lot of falls without becoming fake
but somehow living always gives me
a little less than it takes
Sep 16, 2012
Sep 16, 2012 at 11:17 PM UTC
One blink, blink blink --, blink
180 degrees, 160, 13 -, {soft focus}
Obtuse - >infinity<
Rolling over Kilimanjaro
Sinking through the Grand Canyon
like wind
Hormone flooding
Like rapids
Eroding consciousness
Blink, awake, blink, blink - blink
I am watching a scenario in my mind
Walking after midnight in a snow blanketed field
And a full moon
Blink, daydream,
I don't know which is louder
The sound of my heart beating
My skin rubbing together,
Or the hum of thoughts traveling through.
Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 2:12 PM UTC
I will not be remembered as the leader of a mighty Army or drum major in a marching band ! Nor recognized by all of mankind for my scientific acumen , climbing Kilimanjaro or exploring the depths of the oceans ! My eulogy would not describe a man of great intellect such as the architect , lawyer or engineer ! Let my tombstone reflect upon the days of a Father , musician , poet and dreamer , that passed away with curiosity , not sadness .. A sometimes troubled man , with a love for the Arts , sunsets and the animal kingdom with a firm grasp of cherished , life long Southern traditions and moral principles ...
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 11:02 AM UTC
icecaps come undone
crushing into the ocean
as she sheds her frozen tears
penguins and p0lar bears shudder
as their habitats recede
like the snows of Kilimanjaro
volcanoes explode
spewing smoke and ash like billowing pillows
into the stratosphere
diffusing sunshine's heat
like a cold compress
floes of lava melt glaciers
rivers of mud cause flooded folks to flee
fissures crack and snap from her pressure
towns and countrysides split
floors rumble and roll like the ocean
walls tumble, crumble and roar
bells toll an all too familiar melody
families cry out, wailing and ranting
chanting dirges of great loss
an inconsolable cacophony
rubbled lives lying in ruin
but she is not to blame
the earth is a no fault state
this is our doing
ecology's consequence
greenhouse gasses and other pollutants
have given her a fever
her pores are opening to vent the warming
she is not angry or vindictive
punishment is not her goal
and evil has not played its hand
the planet is just cooling herself
it's how Gaia gets her groove back
Apr 17, 2010
Apr 17, 2010 at 10:59 AM UTC
Fuji, Rainier, now to Africa’s pinnacle
she followed, behind a parade of sycophants
marching, single file behind his greatness
few made ascents with him
she only Fuji, on a windless day
though others made the trek up Rainer,
surviving a blizzard that hit halfway
down
she told her lover
his faithful must have thought his presence
imbued them with immortality
which he seemed to possess
maybe it did, the lover said
seven decades and one, still *******
old mountains and young women
and she was still there, despite
the doctors’ bleak sentence
she was painting, moving
while she still could, a water color
of Rainier in mist, hanging in some
haunted hall in his home
now a pale pastel of Kilimanjaro
for which he would spend a fortune, to hang
somewhere he would not spend a minute
when her extended contract expired
she would be ashes scattered in Big Sur
and he would still be climbing higher
breathing heaven’s ether, a color
she never captured
but her signature
would be on overpriced art
which from the start, he commissioned
to keep her from leaving without
having seen rarefied air
Nov 16, 2015
Nov 16, 2015 at 10:49 AM UTC
Alien Nation
by Michael R. Burch
for J. S. S., a "Christian" poet
On a lonely outpost on Mars
the astronaut practices “speech”
as alien to primates below
as mute stars winking high, out of reach.
And his words fall as bright and as chill
as ice crystals on Kilimanjaro —
far colder than Jesus’s words
over the “fortunate” sparrow.
And I understand how gentle Emily
felt, when all comfort had flown,
gazing into those inhuman eyes,
feeling zero at the bone.
Oh, how can I grok his arctic thought?
For if he is human, I am not.
Note: The coinage “grok” appears in Robert Heinlein’s classic sci-fi novel "Stranger in a Strange Land." The novel’s protagonist, Valentine Michael Smith, was raised on Mars by enlightened Martians, and he often feels out of sorts on Earth, where he struggles to grok (understand deeply and profoundly) earthlings and their primitive, often inhuman, ways. Keywords/Tags: Mars, astronaut, alien, primates, stars, words, ice, crystals, Jesus, sparrow, Emily, Dickinson, zero, bone, arctic, thought, human, inhuman
Mar 30, 2020
Mar 30, 2020 at 5:25 AM UTC
Mother Love
It all started in her womb
I would be in trouble and I would shout "Mama"
Its not cause my father wasn't around
Its the warmth that I was wraped in for 9months
I got out, and the ice cold world hit me.
I wished to go back,
How could I go back to my mothers womb?
Womb!
My first home
No fancy doors or windows
No kilimanjaro tiles or maxidoors
It wasn't a crave
I was hungry
I ate what she ate
My mother wont starve while I'm still alive!
In this life theres no woman that would take my mothers place in my heart!
Mother love...
#MamasBoy
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 5:02 PM UTC
When we last saw Noah,
He was about to embark
On a long, stormy journey
Aboard his mighty ark.
For forty days and nights
The heavens constantly drained
Their waters upon the earth,
For it rained and rained and rained--
Covering the towering Mt. Everest,
And the great Kilimanjaro.
Noah exclaimed, "It's raining
Like there's no tomorrow!"
Ham and Shem said, "Dad,
With our small, measly crew,
Feeding one million species
Is kind of hard to do."
Noah pointed outside
And looked at his sons and said,
"I suppose instead of in HERE,
You'd rather be out there--dead!"
That shut up the boys
Who attended to their tasks,
Saying, "We're feeding the lions
In case anyone asks."
Shem whispered to Ham,
"I like that lion, but she
Is always licking her chops
Whenever SHE sees ME!"
Ham said, "That kangaroo,
Who looks so calm and mellow,
Has a nasty kick.
He's not a very nice fellow."
After many days,
The waters receded; then Yay!
They were back on dry land;
All could go their own way.
The Bengal tigers went east;
The penguins headed south;
The skunks and beavers went west--
According to word of mouth.
Noah grabbed an animal
For a sacrifice quick and succinct,
And turned to his sons saying, "Oops!
I JUST made one species extinct."
Ham, Shem, and Japheth,
Had little time for mirth,
For now it was up to them
To repopulate the earth.
Growing grapes for wine
To Noah was time well spent,
Until he got drunk and naked--
All sprawled out in his tent.
Walking in on his father,
Ham saw a sight not so splendid
And ended up with a *** deal--
(Silly pun intended)--
For Noah cursed poor Ham
For having walked in on him.
So what if a guy saw him naked;
Hadn't he been to a gym?
Actually, the curse
Was more on Canaan, Ham's son.
How had poor Canaan managed
To be the guilty one?
I guess that's the nature of curses;
They don't always make much sense.
There also wasn't a lawyer
To come to Canaan's defense.
To live to be 950
Requires a very strong ticker.
But Noah had a weakness:
Trouble holding his liquor.
- by Bob B
*Sequel to "Noah's Dilemma"
Oct 15, 2016
Oct 15, 2016 at 3:02 PM UTC
there is a certain kind of motherhood
only an older sister knows is true
to not have borne a son from womb
but to have a friend of same blood
be a son, a gift and a light too
there must be some divinity in this
to be the one he calls on when
the cupboard is kilimanjaro for this little stranger
who is on some days foe and most days love
to be the santamaria as he climbs
on your own young shoulder blades
searching for ****** shores in worn out rooms
to be stronger than the thunder
that rumbles outside his bedroom window
to be stronger than you usually are
for the little boy whose arms cling onto you for peace
even when you are as pale as the moonlight
he claims to have followed him into our home
there is some strange purpose in this
to be guardian, disciplinarian, caretaker and girl
all at once
when our mother is too drunk to hug her son
when our father says nothing but hello
there is a kind of love
only a sister knows hurts this much
when that little snip of a man grows into boyhood
just as he grew out of your arms
when you are no longer every wonder of the world
you are simply a companion
and on good days: a comrade
always a sister and mostly a friend
there is a strange pull of the heart
at the sight of boyhood in motion
to see him cry and laugh and hurt just as you once did
to bear witness to his ripe exploration of the cosmos
and you think to yourself: were you ever this young?
he looks at you with eyes that mirror your own
yes. yes you were
there is a certain kind of motherhood
only an older sister knows is true
it is the nostalgic repetition of summers that once
seemed to last forever
it is holding your brother tight
when he is brave icarus before the fall
even more so when the time for tragedy comes
and your young, young brother realizes
that he does not bleed ichor like the gods
he bleeds red very much like his sister
there is so much love in this
May 18, 2017
May 18, 2017 at 3:56 PM UTC
The lowly amber circles attune
on the savanna grass of Serengeti
as the glow penetrates our tent
where the hungry hyenas nudge
At the dawn of four thirty
when dew recollects on the green
and the lioness pawn are grounded
at the lawn where we once laid
You are possessive and protective
rejective and a handsome danger
hypnotized by spells of the acacia trees
dancing under the thousand stars
As I unlearn the memoirs of the past
within the decorative adventures
where the world was ours to hold
in shades of deep blue and reds
Float baby, stow on the highways
where we changed to hues of black
with beautiful stacked memories
in the wild chasing the leopards
Flow baby, stroll on the railways
where we felt a million tunes
tracking hunts and ******* rants
cautious of the predatory play
Fight baby, sew the sutured heart
where once a love was a lullaby
at the drop of the Kilimanjaro
unfreed from all the carry-ons
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 3:48 PM UTC
When we first met
I knew we were meant to be a set
A pair, a duo, a duplet
Chemistry and energy is our aura
Looking styling in our fedoras
Flirting and singing, sending off sparks of true blue
Our meeting a real coup, straight out of a mystery by Nancy Drew
You add peace and subtract sorrow
My head as clear as the sky on top of Mount Kilimanjaro
I will love you until there is no tomorrow
You are my friend, my partner, my life
I don't want any disagreement or strife
Just fun, entertainment and rife
Always and forever.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 2:03 PM UTC
The oak tree stands upon firm ground; an ancient
agreement with the earth. Autumn leaves agree to
nourish an infertile land if the contract is ratified. The
monsoon winds have no arrangement and are indifferent.
The snows of Kilimanjaro blanket a primordial volcano
and has an agreement with the rivers. Its melting glaciers agree
to flow freely and nourish a thirsty land if the contract is
confirmed. The sun has no arrangement and is cold and unmoving.
The soul resides freely in each of us. Ours is an immortal covenant.
If we agree to honor our bodies and humankind, life’s pact is
affirmed. Death has no arrangement and is uncaring and heartless.
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 7:17 AM UTC
I used to think that when I was with you I was getting drunk on life
Sipping on your smile like a classy merlot
Gulping down your twinkling laughter like a sprakling champagne
Savoring your eyes like a forty year old cabarnet
Drinking without care or consequence
Knowing that I'd wake up with a headache so bad it could split kilimanjaro itself
And that my body would Ache from withdrawal symptoms as I yearned for a palatable drink to moisten my lethargic tongue
Except...I didn't...
I woke up, my head Sparkling in its clarity
My body energised and full of movement
I got drunk on you
Yet...I had no hangover...
I got drunk on being with you...except...I didn't
I used to get drunk on 'Her' and when I left her company I left with an incomprehensible pain in my heart
My "Hangover"
But when I'm with you I'm not Drunk
No...I'm Sober
A Sober that allows the world to sparkle around me in painstaking detail
A Sober that allows me to experience the real beauty of life and not just float through it in a haze of intoxication
A Sober that allows me to look at you and experience that flame in my heart
The joy of life
The joy of knowing that my heart is content to not get drunk
My heart can feel joy without drinking its superficial counterpart
Getting drunk on life is a phrase I cannot use with you
You are just so much more
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 5:08 PM UTC
On Angels Wings,
Dearly departed,
i miss the artist in you.
Soweto Springs.
Marooned in the mountains,
of stakes split socialism states.
so
high.
Liberalise my mind one final time,
before you
f l o a t into paradise.
Enchanted wonderland,
big game Zion elysium,
in the Kruger National park.
I miss you after dark;
Your kingdom come in those
happy hunting grounds.
How low could one go.
Perched upon Kilimanjaro,
table top feasts,
the
wilderbeasts,
perch upon the mountain range,
and
will eat you alive.
I miss you in the mourning.
I have no words.
None.
Johannesburg.
Where you gave birth to my world.
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 9:25 AM UTC
delirious and dazed
in the silence of the beating,
artificial wind
I sit,
thinking of a beating,
artificial wind in a far away land.
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 6:23 AM UTC
Rise! Oh Kilimanjaro
Where cherished desires glow
Rise and touch the high sky
Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 2:36 AM UTC