"unrealised" poems
Violin sonatas of gloom
Acoustics of desire
Play all at once
A peculiar compilation
An elegy of sorts
For yours truly
Welcome to life
Soak up the unrealised potential
Inflamed with rage
To this day
You walk this earth
With a strong conviction
You owe yourself something
You cannot deliver
Extreme self-expectations
Coupled with perfectionism
The fatal modus operandi
You continue adhering to
Goodluck with standing in the way
Of your own happiness
Thrive in your concentrated negativity
While seeking solace in one-liners
Of absolute ********
You maybe a joke
But you are hilarious
Oh, wait.. the joke wore thin
A dozen punchlines ago
You died 12 summers ago
It’s whatever
One day bitter and wilted
As you sit in a cold impersonal office
You will dream about the ocean
And mourn wasted youth
Today will be yesterday
Today is ruined
Tomorrow is dead.
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 5:35 PM UTC
It's as though through letting ideas slip away into nothingness
I've died countless times:
unrealised, unfulfilled, unsatisfied.
Their last scream of agony devoid of substance,
reverberates through me,
Reminding me that
I've neglected to death that which could've filled me.
I sit alone quietly watching,
An ego of sand trickles down
each grain a like on a tweet, a seen video.
Aren't they really smart? The people who make these things?
Promised to make me golden,
And I am, indeed.
Just as cold and saleable as that.
NO no,
I keep trying to claw my way out.
It's taking too long, why isn't it working?
Hands getting weaker?
Nails dulling out?
Or maybe I've never had anything sharp on myself to begin with.
The worst is that I'm not alone in this
And most of you seem content.
Living being made to obey
With grains of dopamine being thrown around
as we dance to catch each in our mouths.
Not much different from these poor animals at the circus.
Let's cut this short.
Aim big and don't expect a praise or prize soon after you start.
People aren't brands and brands aren't people.
Let's learn to enjoy the ride more than the destination.
Good luck, I believe in me,
I believe in you.
Jul 15, 2019
Jul 15, 2019 at 9:58 AM UTC
Complex innards of the female form,
Unrealised by the male definition of the world.
Intensity grabs a hold,
Locking me harshly onto the cracks in-between.
There's no such thing as enough.
More and more till faces are torn.
Slit in two. Sown up. Slit in four. Sown up.
And so on.
There's no needle, skin, key.
All useless paraphernalia.
Inserted into the flesh,
Then poured out at death.
Empower myself with the force of control.
Uncontrolled self-control lost to control of others.
Sunken by unwanted wanting of the sub-conscience.
Never to be fixed or forgotten,
Just left lingering in the abyss,
Eating away at you as you distaste yourself.
Visitations upon our corrected correctors,
Bringing solace for short periods.
Thrown fiercely under the bed to be forgotten again.
Convicted to lives of self-mutilation,
Self-deprivation, self-contemplation.
Hidden behind glistening eyes, just lies.
Stand, sit in ****** lanes peering up at the moon.
Lungs slowly growing blacker, laced with tar.
Hindsight is a curse, ignorance-bliss.
All held inside a shaking fist, shaking unwillingly.
Unwillingly shaking, kicking walls
To knock down, insane with powerless power.
Unhinged, unattached.
Inside, growls to torture.
Outside, smiles to assist.
Jan 19, 2012
Jan 19, 2012 at 12:19 PM UTC
Time threads her necklace patiently,
Choosing carefully the colour and shape of our experiences,
Here, a tumbled quartz - luminous and rosy,
There, shards of darkest onyx - tragic and uncompromising,
Every now and again, a perfect sphere of sacred turquoise to mark a special occasion.
Finally, satisfied with her handiwork Time ties off the strand,
And weaves the precious metal of our dreams - unrealised - into an intricate clasp,
As she places the memento around her bejewelled neck she sighs to herself and whispers:
‘Such promise, such pain, such beauty, such loss; I will treasure you always.’
Then reaching for her spool of silver thread, she begins again to thread her golden needle.
Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 11:02 PM UTC
lost to my world of emotion loathed by confusion i can't define existance between the lines of coruption manipulated human justifyin death wit superior instructions weapon or not the choice was chosen by deception never recognisin your actions these are the troubles of afections when men are punished by unrealised intention i nw hand my attention my insides made to continuesly feel passion but lost lack the attitude to not loose the perception beauty in pian wat strange attraction
Nov 5, 2009
Nov 5, 2009 at 6:29 PM UTC
You dreamed it once
The slow bend in the road
Past which the world delves
Into the realm of the unreal
Unrealised futures selves
That are as material as
Anything will ever be
In this stretch of land
Between here and infinity
Where a million bonded yous
Could be living in flawed
Synchrony, a dissonance of
Possible lives you will never see
Even now at the precipice
Of all that waits to come
The time it takes for a hum
To bloom into the vibration
Of a body growing wings
Is that step that lays down
The brick for the next
Two feet never together
On the same square inch of ground
There lies the sound of cracking shells
A chrysalis to which you are bound
By birth, where inside you lay the
Stones of the inverted pyramid
With each clean bone leading
Cleanly to the edge, the rising temple
Held up by the apex of the roof
Long before belief has penetrated
The invisible heart of the root
May 9, 2021
May 9, 2021 at 5:54 AM UTC
I have seen the blood of my loved ones, spilled on a dusty road;
Seen the fall of kings, powerful warriors and the bold;
The skin of mothers and little children, broken by cold;
The ancient landmarks of the fatherless, siezed and sold.
I have heard the cry of the homeless but no one there to save;
Heard the wailing of the deserted, seen the tears of the brave;
Many driven from their homelands, now hiding in caves;
And a father toiling night and day, treated as a slave.
I have heard of dreams of many, still unrealised;
The ****** daughters of priests, lured or defiled;
The goals of youths, swallowed up by pride;
And the future of generations, poorly discerned.
I have read government policies, unfavourable for the common man;
Heard of national resources, expended without concrete plans
Communities connive to eliminate a defenseless clan;
And a nation sold into modern slavery, by reckless polititians.
Many tears have droped, sweat and blood everywhere;
Many races have been run but the end seems nowhere near;
Many have waited hopelessly for a better year;
Many have stood up but crawled back for sake of fear.
A day will come when the oppressed will arise;
Like Martin Luther King Jr. did,though his blood was a price;
Like Nelson Mandela did, even though his act was termed a vice-
For the freedom of the enslaved and oppressed but the wicked's sudden demise.
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 3:26 AM UTC
It was December and warmer than usual
when I cried my eyes out.
First I thought of my father, who died when I was seventeen
and I cried for my lost confidante and my mentor,
Then came my children and my gentle breeze,
and I cried for dreams unrealised and a death unexpected,
Then came the vision of my Father-in-Law
and I cried for the theft of a beautiful, gentle soul,
Then came the loves I passed in my cold and confused youth
and I cried for what was, could have been and simply imagined,
Then came the poor and the desperate strangers
and I cried for the injustice and the severed cord of humanity
Finally I sobbed for myself
for the sadnesses I endured and the failings that I am.
oh how I cried.
I cried with wine and without,
tears salty with the grapes of Spanish hillsides
I cried with tears so hot they steamed my glasses
with a fog of self loathing.
I cried until my tears were all but gone
until all that was left was me
and all my flaws and my humbled greatness.
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 2:45 PM UTC
A stone terrain waits
A landscape deserted
Devoid of real
Or imagined explorations
For it turns inward
At a tangent that
Precludes inquiry
It has an articulation
Of slow deliberate movements
Where particularized
Geology has painted it
Cut off and disconnected
By an estrangement of creation
Other existences only serve
To magnify its sense of isolation
Its blank uncaring non-geometric
Dimensions of observable
Unquantifiable location is obscure
And unrealised
Producing an immediate
Initiated sensory experience
Of unreleased silent appraisal
But why does it wait?
What for
Does it anticipate or foresee
Some expected prediction
Of apocalyptic presentiment
Is it recalling color?
Or is it experiencing
The present like floating in a dream
Alas there is no clue
To its tilted yet frozen expectancy
A stone terrain waits
Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 4:29 PM UTC
If she may fall asleep
Within a solace spun of oceans deep,
Where she rests - upon a foundation of strength
And finesse, I pray her weary eyes
Will soon forget their burdens
That she will breathe new life and
See herself for the radiance
She truly is.
If I may venture,
Brave the tides and slay the demons that plague her
Perhaps spark change beyond just seeing...
Would her gaze rest upon my being?
And bless my thoughts with her complexion,
An immaculate theater of inspiration.
If I had stayed here,
And rose above my doubtful waves to find her
Drowned in sorrow, or soaked in pain
Under darkened storms and torrential rain
For and beside her I'd take my place
To coax sunrise from her cloudburst face,
To call stars for eyes, always dawning surprise -
Such grace upon my evening skies.
If I may ask her,
To let me drown within the deepest seas
Of her eyes, just a second longer,
Before they shut, and she falls asleep
Amongst unrealised dreams and bursting seams
Where I’ll be, to stay staunch and guide her
To clear conflicting briar, so she may once again rest
Upon a foundation of strength
And finesse.
Mar 30, 2017
Mar 30, 2017 at 4:20 AM UTC
The novelty of it all
Something for nothing
After busting yourself for years
The satisfaction of getting
Something back wears off
Your patience wears thin as
Boredom absorbs all ambitions
The novel lies unrealised
The lust for new language and adventure
Lost
Nothing will come of nothing
Empty.
Fatigue.
Wasted time.
Begets begets begotten
Surviving but not living.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 2:30 PM UTC
Atlas and the daughter of unknown origins
My world revolves around you,
father,
you held the sky when I was born,
small goddess, I lay,
at your feet.
You cried and it was raining in my atmosphere,
I think you said I was lovely,
though my small ears could only hear
so far beyond the clouds.
I don't know what you've done,
some dreadful deed unrealised,
until I asked for you to kiss my cheeks
and you couldn't reach
so low.
I thought of you,
Atlas, Atlas,
protecting a face you'd never seen.
Stretching space into itself
so that I could breathe.
I thought of you,
Atlas,
when you didn't think of me.
I found Odysseus floating in the sea.
He looked like you,
he looked like Zeus and all his long-haired wives
and all their children too.
Odysseus the bravest,
the true.
(I loved him far too much,
before I knew what love could be,
a thing of claws and teeth).
Father, that man stole away
with all the bitter-sweetness of my name,
"I cannot do this anymore,"
Calypso, hide,
"I will tell them all you lied,"
Calypso, hide,
"you are a thing of shame."
Odysseus broke my heart,
Atlas missed the beat.
Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 11:05 PM UTC
Oh The Weight Of Unrealised Love
Le me fall asleep to your voice & wake up to your breathing patterns
Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 1:20 PM UTC
Memories whisper-drift
Where
Unrealised dreams
Wait on the edge, and time
Sways anchored inside
The space where nothing matters;
Hearts share a moon glistened destiny,
An intertwined beauty
Holding on tightly, hands clasped in prayer,
Night whispers the beating heart, nestled safely
On horizon's cusp
As rain softly whispers kisses down upon the echoes
Staining each sacred ache,
Petals of silk
Open arms
And
Heartprints collide upon tender;
Shadows of happiness,
Rainbow,
Softest reflections beneath a breath...
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 7:17 PM UTC
Book: African Hidden Info's
Written By: Thando DebrokenPoet
_
To My Fellow Nigros
Lost Children Of Melanin
Fumbling Offsprings Of Mwari
You've Struggled
And Tumbled
In Chena Murume's(White Men's), grasping Hearts.
_
The Enslaved
And Consciously Disabled-
Till spiritually You Drowned
Deep Into Our Oppressors Feet.
Day-to-day You Lowered
And Waxed To Every sovereign state's Begger.
_
This Book Is to My Fellow Afru-ika
Sisters & Brothers.
And Fellow Nigro
Whose Ancestors Suffered As Steve Biko
Did And All Other
Liberation Heros.
To Name Few:Prophet/king Shake Zulu Of The Zulu Clan-
Prophetess Mtsopa, King Langalibalele , Takawira Of Zimbabwe,
Hector Peterson, Credo Muthwa
Mohamed Farrah Aidid Of Somalia.
And Many Unrealised, Unrecognised
Misunderstood Hero's, like the Xhosa Prophetess-
Nongqawuse
The True African Freedom Fighters.
_
Skinned Dark, Rough In Complexion
Creator's Mastered Creation
Though Notified
To Be Mvelinqangi's Rejected
Child.
Said Black pigment, displays
Alah's Curse Upon You Dark skinned.
_
Through Thy're Undying spirit,
mandate passed to Prophet Radebe.
I'll Unpack Africa's Hidden Truths
Self-owed By homme blanc(White Men).
_
My Intro, For My 10 Days
Of Poetree.
Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 10:57 AM UTC
So many forgotten..
Still wonder what keeps me going with so many unrealised.
Every now and then I try and take a stalk
Where has life bought me?
And always end up mesmerized with what has happened..
Nothing has changed in its own way by changing every thing around
Beauty this life bestows can never be comprehended.
Most well read phrases always reminds..
"………life never gives you what you want but gives you what you need"
If it was so simple then why dream?
Lost and entangled still come out uncomplicated.
Beauty this life brings still mesmerizes me!
Had so many incomplete
so many forgotten still wonder why we move on …
…. Dreams lost don’t know in what time
but I still carry on with the same speed ….
Wonder what keeps the complicated so uncomplicated
And as simple as it sounds
without being able to take a stalk, where life brings you and where it moves on!!
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 7:15 AM UTC
How often do you hear the expression "there's never enough time"?
Too much to fully comprehend its full ramifications:
The lost moments,
the endless "what if?" of unrealised human experience that simply vanishes in the ether,
the cold antiseptic realisation of death and one's grief for the time not spent with loved ones.
The misery of losing out to it all.
I say stop.
Embrace your family & friends while they are still sharing the same breath as you.
Forgive them for whatever trespasses they have & find a new commonality in love.
Tell them of their unmeasurable worth to you and all the others in their demi-monde.
Endlessly compliment them on their radiance and sheer uniqueness in the face of adversity.
But don't forget to relish the gloriously diverse life all around you.
Or seek out the beauty of humanity's immense creativity and start to participate.
Sample how life can be truly transcendent if you just pay attention.
There is more to us all that waiting on the "right", convenient moment to connect.
Because, my friend, there is enough time for us all:
you just need to change the direction as time is no friend to our fragility.
November 7th 2018
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 9:49 AM UTC
Suspended high on the
Pendulum of volatile emotion
As high as my horizon
That of gravity
Which knew not my name
Discarded by the wings of mirth
The carcass of my yesterday
Collided with my tomorrow
Tainting my dreams of splendour
The dead hands that clung on
The fragile shadow
Ashamed of the light
The chasm is endless
A tidal wave of
Endless murderous desire
Drenched in vermilion
Susceptible to ruin
The rhythm of the heart
Pounded
Ever so thunderously
Intensity
Too profound to fathom
A catapult into the unknown
Deliciously so
The year draws nigh
Envisaged ends
Remain unrealised
Ready to roar
Or maybe
Just speak.
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 2:19 PM UTC
Today, I am the feeling of falling, the
jolt of the unrealised last step
on the staircase.
I
Feel myself sliding
down a sheer cliff
face, and turning
my face away from
all of the hand
holds and foot hold
s that could save
me the fall.
Below me is the river, the one
you see in films, where the
crocodiles snap and scream and
the waves are shrieking too,
where the jagged, toothed rocks are reaching
up with their barbed fingers,
they pierce the air with vows to catch the fallen
and the hero can't hold on
for much longer.
But even though i try to shape these words into the silhouette of my descent, they only seem a shallow, shadow-shape i cannot make cement; and shadows cannot beat a heart with violent fear and fierce torment as my heart beats.
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 2:42 PM UTC
‘Nobody Cares’
the gravity of those words
send me reeling
into the abyss of despair
are the greatest loves
fables of a deluded woe-begone?
if compassion dissolves to materail nothingness,
if passion is the means of exhuasting unrealised fantasises and lusts,
if trusts are meant to be cruelly broken,
What Is Love?
A pack of lies?
A tantamount of deceit and devillery?
A sad parody of broken hearts and damaged souls?
Or leecherous devouring of enigmas till they’ve sapped to death?
I wish those words
wouldn’t have murdered such beautiful innocence
of a perfect love
Jun 15, 2018
Jun 15, 2018 at 11:17 AM UTC
The sun set, with scarlet potential, unrealised and unmet.
As I awaited your ephemeral silhouette; the promise to be kept.
Feb 10, 2021
Feb 10, 2021 at 3:21 PM UTC
In the blanketing abyss of night's prelude
no lamp subdues the dark within
but rather set a hazy stage:
lucidity's awakened hour
Dimly and diffuse you blur
through my drifting lines of sentience
reaping your cruel harvest, slyly
scattering my germinal love
How grim this fate that you have cast
upon my hopes so premature:
aborted at 3 weeks
more loss than I can take
enough for me to bury
enough for my resentment
burning unrealised:
fire of my nascent eyes
piercing through the false eclipse
scorching your covert disguise
the veil I long to rip apart
and disintegrate with verity,
to spit upon with love's acid froth
crude as every image of you
...
crude as dispossessed illusions
For I know you no longer,
and grasp for silent solace:
I can still turn the lights off by myself
by myself
Jul 17, 2025
Jul 17, 2025 at 6:36 PM UTC
An ounce of humam kindness
does that go a long way?
or is it alteady an exit sign
appearing to usher you away to safety
when its only envious of the vacant space.
A barbed comment may after all be an underlay warning
for a fault line
that an unrealised friend is trying to repair
Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 4:33 PM UTC
is a slave
who doesnt know
theyre a slave
still a slave?
that depends
on your definition
of freedom.
what does
a human need
to be free?:
the understanding
of what freedom is.
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 5:16 PM UTC
Unaware of you at first
You
Crept
Upon me
And strike .....
Weeping
Winding me instantly
Unable to account for the cause
Polluting and heavy
Once started
It spreads through me
Overwhelming me
Tired and defeated
Mocked of pride
Put in place and offended
But deserved ??
self guilt and doubt stirring
an ocean ..... a bottomless pit
Dragged up and upheaved
To cut the surface sharp and wounded
Still raw and open
Unrealised ....
And ...... unaddressed
Get back down .... now go
Sink
&
Rest
(C) Ashley Kane FB
Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 1:58 PM UTC