A love sublime (poem)

Dearest, sweetest, oh the loveliest-
the lack of pen; it is not a tale of a love subdued
waiting for the scholars to still define you.
Your frame, the way your words seem to glide-
through my ears, icing my soul and persuading my heart not to die.

There is no other to the feeling of your fingertips dancing on my spine;
I think of no worry, I think of no darkness – hell, there is no time.
The lighthouse, the candle, the sun, the torch, the glow-
how you encompass all this, a mystery a heart will never know.

There is no sweeter thing that the just because,
a love that begs no reason,
a love that abides by no days or time,
our love is just because-
no orchestration in a love sublime.

How does one afford a dream? (poem)

For me, I was blessed not to live poverty-
in the crumble of walls or the vacancy of my belly.
Call it a blessing, call it luck in my favor-
but having the best life was a bet I would wager.

Now reader, please don’t get me twisted-
life was good, there was beauty whenever I was afflicted.
I watched a TV; I surfed and indeed I played,
oh, the little worries of my little days.

I feel poverty now, in the restrictions of education-
in my parents pockets – in the ‘not-hiring,
life is the fire squad which keeps on firing.

What is a loan? What about the rating of my credit?
How does one afford a dream?
Am I applicable to get it?

You have always been yours. (poem)

You have always been yours;
with rings on your fingers and thongs on lovers floors,
caramel eyes, silky thighs
those catwalks on delirious minds.

You’ve had more digits than digestives,
desperate to be that one and only message,
that flashes in the sun rise-
to be forever engraved under your eyelids.

Your heart is in constant dispute-
if being in love is the solution
or if you’ve suckered into an agreement
in which you could lose.

You could have it all
but you want that and more-
you don’t want a lover,
because with only someone else,
you can never quite be sure.

First World Arrogance (poem)

This savage tongue, my barbaric tone-
your expense and my decadence,
when all there is are roads and buildings.
You’re cultured, you’re designing the curve-
and we’re all leeches on your world.

Backwards in time, deprived of intelligent mind-
the same species yet a less important kind,
we share a flag you know.
I’m uneducated, destined for the dole-
and you’re all playing a more important role.

I’m all foreign, from particulars to origin-
well, at least I’m not trying to not be boring,
but are you what you are?
The bittersweet life of hipster imitation-
constantly digging for something unique in your faking.

You can’t educate me on what I already know-
from the drug raids to the food banks,
you have never ventured, what does that show?
I acknowledge my life doesn’t always get it right-
but thankfully it doesn’t revolve around hashtags,
filters, emoji’s and building a life fit for a website.

again (poem)

I can feel the wasted air turning to mold in my lungs,
chalking shadows – convincing them to be someone,
oh mind, when will you be satisfied?
circling the rings under my eyes.

It’s because you don’t sleep,
it’s because you’re awake until 10am-
it’s because of you-
and here I am again.

The Serpent (poem)

She’s hell of a girl, she’ll take you to that extent-
where your kneecaps become all bent and your eyes
turn to liquid and you can’t stick your tongue out fast enough.

Your mind is an ice-rink and she’s eager to butterfly-
her thumb will get itself comfortable on your forehead,
jeer your mates goodbye.

Sometimes you’ll meet yourself at the bottom of the bottle-
where your elbows become all crooked and your mouth
turns to a serpent and you can’t bite your tongue fast enough.

You’re hell of a boy, you’ll take her to the extent-
where her hips become all bent and her eyes
turn to drops of rain and you can’t reach out fast enough.

Sometimes she will catch herself dashing towards the door-
leaving a note, saying she won’t take it anymore.
Her mouth turns to ashes and her body loses its frame,
she becomes the serpent and slips her love away.

You see the ages (poem)

It was my party but I didn’t cry – I never thought to,
the ambitions as a teen well they never came through,
just always believed that moment would contain you.

The ages they shift us both,
but there’s still belief in our wooden float-
yeah, the ages they shift us both,
but you’re the one who’s carving holes.

I’m not afraid of death or of the dark-
I worry about the hand that holds me when the lights go off,
will it clutch me at the dying of the light
or cast me off without the desire of a fight.

You see the ages, they shift us both-
we knew we had the time but not how we’d grow,
yeah the ages, they shift us both-
you can never truly know.

Our differences, they tear at binds-
softened by the counties and train lines,
our differences, the you’s and i’s
it’s been ages since I’ve had your time.

You see the ages, they shift us both-
perhaps it’s me – let me know,
yeah the ages, they shift us both-
will you go down with the wooden float?