pip

I have fallen from instinctive grace, a lame excuse for shameful games, fame is your trophy I lay slain, vied myself between fury and fortitude distinctions cut with unconditional magnitude the only solitude I wished for was inside your arms heart beats in situ I remember your eyes were my i’s how are you today is […]

enough

​I used to rose petal you with poetry Peachy words filled with love and integrity Pepper your edges with perfect pieces of personality Originality, hallowed protection and civility; Regardless of how much I selflessly give I am an essence you no longer wish to receive; A purity diluted with fluted belief It revolves around you […]

moving on

​You’ve got me inside your skin. An angelic hymn. Something you’ve always thought, wasn’t even him. Chances were slim, compressing. Destined mentions. Long windows of time. Blurred vision, double lines. I remember your face behind the curtains, blue as an inky sky. Faded starry nights, trying to find your self in deluded plans. And you […]

seeking

do we ascend or are we fated with unjust hands unlucky draws this time round pain staking soul searching in an attempt to be crowned fitting accepted social climbs chastity bought by rocks once hidden and undefined loyalty procured with diamonds stolen from unethical mines rather prescribe all kinds of love whispered syllables you can […]

stealing summer

You’re so generic. Egocentric. Fraternising with Miss Electric, under the cover of a dark storm. Your sunshine forms, she warms your skin, you let her close, she shelters your soul. In seconds, infinite caresses, absorbing her spirit you let her undress ya. Her energy favours you like you’ve always felt her, you melt up on […]

sangoma bones

Mantras: the world is mine. Masters at illusion, diluting confusion, it’s a mine, field. Divine lines, taking lives. Divided sides, making up, dyed timelines. Watching from the sidelines, a life declined, inclined to fight, time. Cutting live, wires until life is, bite sized, a right to byte, I say goodbye. A sight for sore, bedsides. […]

i know what i’m doing…

Sitting on the veranda, the blistering heat seeps through even the wooden slats above me and the breeze ruffles through my curls, well, not really but my imagination is positively more impressive than reality. I pretend every atom of life is following a pre-cursed, sorry, -ordained, plan or at least the plan constructed from mint […]