It happened a night with no moon,
You know that kind of night.
A young woman,
I think a college student,
Was walking home
From the library.
Her step was slow,
Her eyes tired.
Then it happened,
A man,
Not very big,
But strong,
Grabbed her
And took her into an alley,
Where it happened.
In that alley she was left,
Tears rolling down her cheeks,
Her eyes wer alert now.
She pulled herself together
And ran home.
A shower washed off some of her shame,
But what now, she thought.
She called her parents
And told them.
They wanted her home,
But no she would not leave.
She told her friends,
Then the police.
The man was caught,
Sent to prison.
She looked in his eyes,
And showed no pity.
Neither did the court,
She went home that day
And cuddled up in the couch
And thought,
"I guess that's what."
This was one of my earlier poems, a high school poem you could say.
weheartit
It's 2am,
Or is it 4am.
Can't really tell,
I lost my watch
On the dance floor.
Anna is piss drunk,
Daring me to join
Her in the fun
Of being a fountain.
I only live once,
And my youth
Is flying by
Without my permission.
We sit on the sidewalk,
Feet in the gutter,
As alcoholic arcs
Spew from out mouths.
Yes, it's unbecoming
Of beautiful,
Young women like us.
Yes, we should
Know better
Than acting a damn fool
In the middle
Of downtown wherever.
And yet,
It doesn't matter.
I'm not alone in
My so-called madness.
And when the sun
Sets fire to the horizon
And the alcohol
Is pissed away,
I can blame it all
On the alcohol.
So right here,
Right now,
I'll be a fountain
Spewing alcohol.
I am piss drunk.
Restless spirits
Spin around
In an erotic dance,
Fuelled
By the need
To do
Something
Instead
Of sitting
In a room
Full of inactive beings.
Scuse me,
As I spit
Words of venom.
Scuse me
As I enter
The abyss
Of complete anti-nirvana.
Scuse me
As I leave
And do something
I want to do,
Be something
I want to be.
Peace of mind
Is needed.
Spin around
In an erotic dance,
Fuelled
By the need
To do
Something
Instead
Of sitting
In a room
Full of inactive beings.
Scuse me,
As I spit
Words of venom.
Scuse me
As I enter
The abyss
Of complete anti-nirvana.
Scuse me
As I leave
And do something
I want to do,
Be something
I want to be.
Peace of mind
Is needed.
As we whirl through our galaxy
With just one thought.
Thinking of ourselves,
Of what our world consist.
Sitting on a step
Of a project in Brooklyn
Is a young woman.
Her stomach is full with child.
Boyfriend left her,
And now her life is not fully hers.
She has to get a job,
But if she gets a job
Who will take care of the baby.
Questions flowing through her young mind.
In an office
In Manhattan,
A woman speaks to her broker,
She has a book deal,
She has a lot of stocks,
And does not have a care in the world.
What would happen
If we exchanged their lives?
Would the young woman
Lose all of what the woman gained?
Would the woman work hard
And get out of the young womans's situation?
We would never know.
In this world of ours,
Possibilities are numerous,
But still we make
The best and worst of it all.
This was written when my handwriting was shyte.
With just one thought.
Thinking of ourselves,
Of what our world consist.
Sitting on a step
Of a project in Brooklyn
Is a young woman.
Her stomach is full with child.
Boyfriend left her,
And now her life is not fully hers.
She has to get a job,
But if she gets a job
Who will take care of the baby.
Questions flowing through her young mind.
In an office
In Manhattan,
A woman speaks to her broker,
She has a book deal,
She has a lot of stocks,
And does not have a care in the world.
What would happen
If we exchanged their lives?
Would the young woman
Lose all of what the woman gained?
Would the woman work hard
And get out of the young womans's situation?
We would never know.
In this world of ours,
Possibilities are numerous,
But still we make
The best and worst of it all.
This was written when my handwriting was shyte.
weheartit
Nary a drop fell.
The sky was heavy
With gray clouds,
Not a touch of
Blue to be seen.
Yet nary a drop fell.
Said clouds
Sat upon the highest hills
As no mountains
Could be found on this land
And yet,
Nary a drop fell.
The breeze cool
Chilling the skin,
Once hot from
The unrelenting sun.
A promise of rain
And yet,
Nary a drop fell.
The earth,
Cracked and dry
Looked up,
As it was not prone
To look down.
Just a drop or two
Was all it needed
To quench it's jagged thirst.
And yet,
Nary a drop fell.
When the rains are upon us,
We beg for them to cease.
When the earth cries out for water,
We beg for rain.
But all wishes
Are granted in their own time,
And a drop shall fall.
A bead of sweat
Slipped down her neck,
Joining the rest
As the soaked
The front of her tank top
Like an oil spill
In a little cove.
Her nipples stood
Erect
Like little soldiers
In the cool morning air
And Nicholas was obviously aware.
She should have worn her sports bra,
But then again
Maybe that was her plan.
Nicholas
Was her running buddy.
Nikki, to her husband.
"Going running with Nikki,
Be back in time for breakfast,"
She would say
To a half asleep hubby
As she slipped out of bed.
Nicholas
Was new in the neighbourhood
And she would pass him
As she ran every morning.
Then one day he introduced himself
And asked if she would be his running buddy.
So she became Sam,
It would be hard
To tell his wife
That he was running with Samantha.
There was an obvious attraction
Between Nikki and Sam,
But they never crossed the line,
They couldn't destroy
What they had with their spouses,
They treasured the trust so much
That they never even mentioned
The attraction.
Instead,
They pushed themselves physically.
When the lust grew strong,
They would race home,
Trying to beat the other.
Whoever won was the winner
For the day,
But the real winners
For that day
Were the spouses.
Nicholas and Samantha
Would race home
And make passionate love
To their spouses.
The spouses in turn
Enjoyed it.
They thought it was
The excess energy from the run,
Never suspecting that it was guilt.
So every morning,
Nikki and Sam went running
And every morning,
Nicholas and Samantha
Made love to their spouses
And everyone won.
Slipped down her neck,
Joining the rest
As the soaked
The front of her tank top
Like an oil spill
In a little cove.
Her nipples stood
Erect
Like little soldiers
In the cool morning air
And Nicholas was obviously aware.
She should have worn her sports bra,
But then again
Maybe that was her plan.
Nicholas
Was her running buddy.
Nikki, to her husband.
"Going running with Nikki,
Be back in time for breakfast,"
She would say
To a half asleep hubby
As she slipped out of bed.
Nicholas
Was new in the neighbourhood
And she would pass him
As she ran every morning.
Then one day he introduced himself
And asked if she would be his running buddy.
So she became Sam,
It would be hard
To tell his wife
That he was running with Samantha.
There was an obvious attraction
Between Nikki and Sam,
But they never crossed the line,
They couldn't destroy
What they had with their spouses,
They treasured the trust so much
That they never even mentioned
The attraction.
Instead,
They pushed themselves physically.
When the lust grew strong,
They would race home,
Trying to beat the other.
Whoever won was the winner
For the day,
But the real winners
For that day
Were the spouses.
Nicholas and Samantha
Would race home
And make passionate love
To their spouses.
The spouses in turn
Enjoyed it.
They thought it was
The excess energy from the run,
Never suspecting that it was guilt.
So every morning,
Nikki and Sam went running
And every morning,
Nicholas and Samantha
Made love to their spouses
And everyone won.
weheartit
Who are you calling a ...?
Would you call your mother a ...?
Then why would you call me that.
Does it offend you
That I'm better than you?
That I know how to do it
Better than you?
Does it offend you
That I took the time
To know how to do it
Right.
No, I am not a ....
I'm just a woman
Who likes to enjoy herself,
By herself
And with others.
No, I am no a ....
I'm more a connoisseur
Of fine O
Oh, you know what I mean.
You may have a problem
With the way I enjoy
My sensuality,
But that is your problem,
Not mine.
But will you stop calling me
A .......
weheartit
Like acid on the brain,
Corroding each nerve,
Each cell.
Strung up
On this bureaucratic
Web.
Can't move forward
At the speed of living.
Can't walk away.
Damn this,
Damn me,
Damn it all.
It's like acid
On
The Brain.
Brown shoes,
Black frames glasses,
Silver flower pendent.
Colours flash be me,
At the speed of living.
Too fast for me,
Too slow for me.
What speed am I going,
If living is passing me,
If I'm passing living.
Am I dead?
Or am I
In an evolved state
Of living,
Or is it.....
As I'm typing this, I'm questioning if I ever did drugs. To me this seems very psychedelic. LOL.
*Let me first say that this is a long poem, but it's worth it.*
ffffound
Jade,
Pearl,
Sue-Lin.
Three sisters
Packing their bags
On their last night at home.
A great journey was ahead of them,
But each sister
Had her own journey.
Jade,
To the North.
Pearl,
To the West.
Sue-Lin,
To the South.
The next morning,
As the sun rose
And the cock crowed,
Each sister hugged their parents
And her two sisters,
Promising to write.
Then on their way they went.
After two days journey
By foot,
Each sister came to a great ravine.
It was long
As it was deep,
But soon they found a way across.
A log was cut
And a way was made.
Jade looked at it
With fear in her heart.
What if she fell?
What if she became paralyzed
With fear half way across?
What if....
At that moment,
She decided.
She decided that soon
Her parents will be old and feeble.
She decided that
They would need someone
To look after them.
She decided
To return home.
Two days later,
She told her parents
The lie she told herself.
Pearl
Also looked at the log
With dread.
What if I fell?
What if I broke the log?
What if...
But no she could
Never go home.
She boasted
To every and any one
Who would listen
That she was going
On a grand journey.
Oh no she would
Never go home,
At least not now.
So she walked
Along the ravine
Until she came upon a little village.
It was a nice village
And it was West of home.
So it was in this village
Pearl resided,
Going home
Every now and then,
But no further West she would go.
Sue-Lin
Was scared.
The ravine looked deep
And all the questions arose,
What if she fell?
What if she became paralyzed
Half way across?
What if she broke the log?
What if....
She sat for a while,
Staring at the log,
Contemplating where her future lay.
The Sue-Lin rose,
she strapped her bags tighter
To her body
And stepped on the log.
With each step,
She kept her eyes
On the end of the log.
Every time she almost lost he balance,
She imagined herself standing
On the earth on the other side.
Just as she was about
To take her last step,
The log broke
And she began to fall.
As she fell,
Sue-Lin decided
To never give up.
She reached out
And gripped the edge
Of the ravine.
Undoing her bags,
She swung them over the edge.
Then with much difficulty,
Pulled herself up.
Then Sue-Lin collapsed.
Sue-Lin laid
At the edge of the ravine,
Tears streaming down
The sides of her face.
Fear,
Adrenaline,
Happiness
Ran threw her body,
And then fatigue.
She slept there.
The next day,
Sue-Lin arose refreshed.
She packed her bags
And continued South,
Continued on her great journey.
As promised,
She wrote to her parents,
She wrote to her sisters,
Of all the adventures she had,
Of all the people she met,
Of all the food she ate.
Each day, being grateful
That she crossed the ravine.
23/3/2010
This morning in that place between sleeping and being awake, I thought about how pursuing one's dreams is like crossing a ravine. You must forget about the act of doing it, confront your fears of doing it and focus on the destination. I'm not a writer, I'm a poet and this is how I tell my stories. I hope you liked it.
ffffound
Jade,
Pearl,
Sue-Lin.
Three sisters
Packing their bags
On their last night at home.
A great journey was ahead of them,
But each sister
Had her own journey.
Jade,
To the North.
Pearl,
To the West.
Sue-Lin,
To the South.
The next morning,
As the sun rose
And the cock crowed,
Each sister hugged their parents
And her two sisters,
Promising to write.
Then on their way they went.
After two days journey
By foot,
Each sister came to a great ravine.
It was long
As it was deep,
But soon they found a way across.
A log was cut
And a way was made.
Jade looked at it
With fear in her heart.
What if she fell?
What if she became paralyzed
With fear half way across?
What if....
At that moment,
She decided.
She decided that soon
Her parents will be old and feeble.
She decided that
They would need someone
To look after them.
She decided
To return home.
Two days later,
She told her parents
The lie she told herself.
Pearl
Also looked at the log
With dread.
What if I fell?
What if I broke the log?
What if...
But no she could
Never go home.
She boasted
To every and any one
Who would listen
That she was going
On a grand journey.
Oh no she would
Never go home,
At least not now.
So she walked
Along the ravine
Until she came upon a little village.
It was a nice village
And it was West of home.
So it was in this village
Pearl resided,
Going home
Every now and then,
But no further West she would go.
Sue-Lin
Was scared.
The ravine looked deep
And all the questions arose,
What if she fell?
What if she became paralyzed
Half way across?
What if she broke the log?
What if....
She sat for a while,
Staring at the log,
Contemplating where her future lay.
The Sue-Lin rose,
she strapped her bags tighter
To her body
And stepped on the log.
With each step,
She kept her eyes
On the end of the log.
Every time she almost lost he balance,
She imagined herself standing
On the earth on the other side.
Just as she was about
To take her last step,
The log broke
And she began to fall.
As she fell,
Sue-Lin decided
To never give up.
She reached out
And gripped the edge
Of the ravine.
Undoing her bags,
She swung them over the edge.
Then with much difficulty,
Pulled herself up.
Then Sue-Lin collapsed.
Sue-Lin laid
At the edge of the ravine,
Tears streaming down
The sides of her face.
Fear,
Adrenaline,
Happiness
Ran threw her body,
And then fatigue.
She slept there.
The next day,
Sue-Lin arose refreshed.
She packed her bags
And continued South,
Continued on her great journey.
As promised,
She wrote to her parents,
She wrote to her sisters,
Of all the adventures she had,
Of all the people she met,
Of all the food she ate.
Each day, being grateful
That she crossed the ravine.
23/3/2010
This morning in that place between sleeping and being awake, I thought about how pursuing one's dreams is like crossing a ravine. You must forget about the act of doing it, confront your fears of doing it and focus on the destination. I'm not a writer, I'm a poet and this is how I tell my stories. I hope you liked it.
Two stars
Sat in the universe.
One to the north,
One to the south.
They grew,
As all things do
And become formidable forces
In their own galaxies.
It was one day
They beheld each other
And an attraction was formed.
Their gravitational forces
Pulling them together.
As we all know,
The universe
Is ever expanding,
And yet the space
Between these stars
Was contracting.
It was a matter of time
Before the two stars
Were right next to each other.
Strangely enough,
They did not collide into each other,
One star absorbing the other.
Two stars
Sat in the universe,
Their gravitational forces
Holding them together.
So close they sat
That they appeared to be one.
In time,
A constellation grew around them.
A beautiful sight, indeed,
Stretching to the north,
Dipping to the south,
And in the heart of it all,
Two starts.
Two stars
Sat in the universe,
Shining so bright,
They appeared to be one.
22/3/2010
Early December last year, an old school mate got married and I had bought the happy couple a gift. Unfortunately, because the actual wedding ceremony didn't go according to plan, I never gave them the gift till recently. Anyway, I decided to throw this poem in as an "I'm sorry it took so long to give you your gift" gift. It came to me and I had to write it down and I must say I like it.
weheartit
I'm trying,
But am I succeeding
In living this life,
Made of ashes.
Memories
Of the fire
That once
Burnt inside.
Perhaps
When I die,
I will understand
The sweet irony
Of life.
That perhaps,
I tried
To own the sky,
When I already
Owned the land.
The land
I can feel,
The land
I can sense
With every
Part of my being.
Unlike the sky,
An illusion
Of light and water.
But today,
I need not die.
Tomorrow,
I need not want
Yesterday.
I titled this abstract, because it was an abstract poem. I don't even remember writing it.
She is my everything,
My cheerleader
When I become my own heckler.
My moon,
When the nights
Of my life seem too dark.
My inspiration,
When I'm blocked
By a wall
That stops me from creating.
Without her,
I am nothing,
Just an empty shell
On the landscape of life.
Without her,
My sanity is a fond memory,
That is fading fast
Into the dark abyss
Of insanity.
She is you,
You are my friend.
You are my best friend
And I can't think
Of life without you.
Thanks and love you, babe.
Beratan Sunrise
Originally uploaded by tropicaLiving
Why were mornings created?
It's a question that pops
Into my mind
Every morning.
When my eyes are forced to open,
Even when they don't have to,
When the sun is in the east
And I wish my windows
Pointed west.
But alas,
I can't rue
The fact that mornings exist,
It being the beginning
Of another day,
Of new things to come.
And soon the night,
when I become most alive.
But I still hate mornings
And I have to live with it.
weheartitMy heart beats
Just like yours.
It is similar in size
And shape.
Just as yours
Is similar to the hearts
Of the persons to your right
And to your left.
We are all one,
Although my skin
Is a shade darker
Or lighter than yours,
When I am cut,
My blood runs red
As the petals of a Hibiscus.
Same as yours.
Our languages may differ,
Our accents may vary
But you love,
And are loved,
And want to be loved.
You have dreams and desires,
Ambitions and hopes.
Same as me.
Although we are different
In one form or another,
We all walk on this earth,
We all are warmed by the sun
By day,
And watched over by the moon
By night.
We are all one.
Do we not cry
When we are hurt?
The pain so much,
It envelops us whole.
Do we not smile
As we look at a baby?
So small, so fragile,
Hope personified.
We are all one.
Do we not have songs
Of love,
Of honour,
Of pain,
Of happiness,
To which we sways our hips
When the notes and words
Touch our souls?
We are all one.
We are all born
And we all shall die.
Two truths we all accept.
What we do between
Is our choice,
And yet we all go to school,
We all shall work,
We all shall fall in love.
We are all one.
We are all human beings.
Being loving,
Being compassionate,
Being creative,
Being intellectual,
Being different and yet similar.
Being human.
Let me first apologize for the morbid nature of the poem.
Let me die
This peaceful death
Without the madness
Of machines screaming
Into my deaf ears.
Let me die
This peaceful death
Where I never knew
How to bear the pain.
The physical pain
Tearing me apart
Or the pain
I see in your eyes
Every time you come to see me.
Let me die
This peaceful death,
Never to breathe in
Canned air,
Letting my body
Be fed by tubes,
Never tasting again.
Let me die
This peaceful death.
The same kind of death
My fore parents succumbed to.
The kind of death
That gives you enough time
To walk down memory lane
Before I cease to be.
Let me die
This peaceful death
And forgo this slow
Meaningless fall
From grace.
Let me die...
Let me die
This peaceful death
Without the madness
Of machines screaming
Into my deaf ears.
Let me die
This peaceful death
Where I never knew
How to bear the pain.
The physical pain
Tearing me apart
Or the pain
I see in your eyes
Every time you come to see me.
Let me die
This peaceful death,
Never to breathe in
Canned air,
Letting my body
Be fed by tubes,
Never tasting again.
Let me die
This peaceful death.
The same kind of death
My fore parents succumbed to.
The kind of death
That gives you enough time
To walk down memory lane
Before I cease to be.
Let me die
This peaceful death
And forgo this slow
Meaningless fall
From grace.
Let me die...
You have spots, baby,
Not freckles,
Or pimples,
But spots
That draw me to you.
Like the spot
In your soul
That you bury away,
Like a treasure
On a deserted island.
But you leave me clues
That help to find it.
Your kindness take me part the way,
Then your compassion takes me further,
And soon, I find the spot.
And I treasure it
The way you do.
Then there is the pot
In your mind.
It engages me,
It inspires me,
It angers me at times
But that makes you
All the more interesting.
Oh, and then there are spots
On your body.
The spot where your neck meets your chest
Where a puddle forms
On a hot day
And a few hot nights.
Then there is the spot,
On your lips.
I like to nibble on it,
Suck it,
Lick it.
Hershey's Kisses have nothing
On your kisses.
And there is the spot
Not any and everyone gets to see...
But lets keep this PG-13,
Shall we?
Baby,
You have spots,
Not freckles
Or pimples,
But spots
And I love them all
Because they make
You, you.
Yes, I've haven't posted anything since the middle of November last year and yet I was still able to post on my other blog. Yes, I've been very bad and I don't really have an excuse, so I won't even pretend. What I will do is bring you up to speed with what I've been up to in terms of poetry.
I've been doing some poetry readings at poetry nights put on by partnership called August Rush. The event is called Expressions: Poetry in the Pub. Well I guess the name will be changing a little bit as it will no longer be at the Pub. It is held on the second and fourth Thursday of the month. The two individuals who put on the event are Zahra Airall and Linisia George and I'm sure everyone has come across good people and these two are definitely good people. Perhaps it is because of this that I like this poetry night.
Don't get me wrong the other poetry nights have been nice but I think it is the blend of a nice venue (before it changed) and their good vibes that make this one comfortable. I don't get the feel that there is a great pressure to be there.
The Tuesday that passed I got a call from Zahra to be the guest poet for the Thursday coming up. This was a bit shocking and overwhelming as I wasn't expecting to do so until May. Being the wuss I am, I said yes, but all and all it came out well. I chose the poems I was going to do, I did up a little script and as Linisia requested, I sent them my bio.
The night came and as usual with any poetry night in ANU, it started late. What I found refreshing was that the two young ladies kept their cool, perhaps that is one of the benefits of being in a team when tackling putting on poetry nights. The other poets where great and when I got up there, although I was nervous, I wasn't like mad, crazy sweating bullets nervous, so I felt good about my delivery.
I chose to do Mom, The Singer, Daddy-O and Being (I have to put these up). I think Daddy is the only one that dealt with love, I'm trying to get away from those types of poems because they feel like reflections of my need to be in a relationship and right now I think I should be focusing on being a better person. That doesn't mean I'm not going to post love poems, I'm posting everything here. :D.
So the poetry night was great and I went back to day to day living and on Saturday, I open my inbox and there is an email from my brother with the subject Oh Snap... I open it and there is this link. I click on it and there is an article titled Delving into the smooth 'mings' of poetry with this pic of me
To say I was pleasantly surprised is an understatement. This article was in the Saturday issue of the Antigua Sun written by Zahra (thank you, Zahra!!) and it was nice reading someone else's perspective of my work. James Browns' "I feel good" is playing in my head.
On a whole, it was a pleasant experience, as the governator used to say "I'll be back," and as my favourite character from Winnie The Pooh, Eeyore, would say, "Thanks for noticing me."
I've been doing some poetry readings at poetry nights put on by partnership called August Rush. The event is called Expressions: Poetry in the Pub. Well I guess the name will be changing a little bit as it will no longer be at the Pub. It is held on the second and fourth Thursday of the month. The two individuals who put on the event are Zahra Airall and Linisia George and I'm sure everyone has come across good people and these two are definitely good people. Perhaps it is because of this that I like this poetry night.
Don't get me wrong the other poetry nights have been nice but I think it is the blend of a nice venue (before it changed) and their good vibes that make this one comfortable. I don't get the feel that there is a great pressure to be there.
The Tuesday that passed I got a call from Zahra to be the guest poet for the Thursday coming up. This was a bit shocking and overwhelming as I wasn't expecting to do so until May. Being the wuss I am, I said yes, but all and all it came out well. I chose the poems I was going to do, I did up a little script and as Linisia requested, I sent them my bio.
The night came and as usual with any poetry night in ANU, it started late. What I found refreshing was that the two young ladies kept their cool, perhaps that is one of the benefits of being in a team when tackling putting on poetry nights. The other poets where great and when I got up there, although I was nervous, I wasn't like mad, crazy sweating bullets nervous, so I felt good about my delivery.
I chose to do Mom, The Singer, Daddy-O and Being (I have to put these up). I think Daddy is the only one that dealt with love, I'm trying to get away from those types of poems because they feel like reflections of my need to be in a relationship and right now I think I should be focusing on being a better person. That doesn't mean I'm not going to post love poems, I'm posting everything here. :D.
So the poetry night was great and I went back to day to day living and on Saturday, I open my inbox and there is an email from my brother with the subject Oh Snap... I open it and there is this link. I click on it and there is an article titled Delving into the smooth 'mings' of poetry with this pic of me
To say I was pleasantly surprised is an understatement. This article was in the Saturday issue of the Antigua Sun written by Zahra (thank you, Zahra!!) and it was nice reading someone else's perspective of my work. James Browns' "I feel good" is playing in my head. On a whole, it was a pleasant experience, as the governator used to say "I'll be back," and as my favourite character from Winnie The Pooh, Eeyore, would say, "Thanks for noticing me."
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