Falling

His words dropped heavy
From his lips,
Golden anvils
Smashing through
The glass planes of
My consciousness,
My beliefs,
My existence.

My existence?
What is that?
What am I?
Who am I?
Do I even know?
Do I even care?

I'm left bottomless,
Falling through the abyss,
Reaching out for something,
Anything, and somehow
I knew there was nothing
To stop my decent into....
Into.......

Somehow,
I was a soul
Without a purpose
And until I found that
I would fall.

I am so tired of
Falling.

I Love Them Both

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I love them both.

Their curves captivated me,
I would trace my fingers
Over them, enraptured
By how different they were.

She was soft and yielding,
I would hold her in my arms,
Squeezing never crushing.
She would whisper in my ear
Words that tickled my senses,
Touched my soul.

It was hard and unrelenting,
Each part designed to perfection.
Through city streets, country lanes
And never ending highways
It would take me.
Instead of whispers, it roars,
A primal roar that urge me on
To live on the edge of my
Existence.

She never asked me
To let it go, and
It can never ask me
To let her go, and
Together we live in
A comfortable arrangement.
Man, woman, car.

I love them both.

Thank You For Listening

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Dear God,
It's me,
I hope you can hear me
Through all the cries
Of sorrow,
Of pain,
Of anger,
Of quiet desperation.

Can you hear me,
God,
I just want to take
A moment,
This one scrap of time
And thank you.

Thank you for my life,
Although at times,
It felt so hard,
So pointless,
So full of tribulations,
But somewhere in there,
I've felt love, joy, peace
And, once and a while,
Happiness.

Thank you for my family,
My friends, my co-workers,
Even my enemies,
Without them
I would not remember
How special I am
And through our encounters,
We all grow to be better people.

God,
Are you still listening?

Thank you for my husband,
For bringing him into my life
At the right time.
A time when we were both ready
To love and cherish each other.
In him I have a best friend,
A trusted confidant,
A lover and a partner in crime.

God,
I know you're busy
Looking after this and that,
But I thought you would
Like to hear a genuine
"Thank You".
Let it be a flicker of light
In the darkness of
Humanity's sorrow.

And one more thing,
God,
Thank you for listening.

Hiya!!

Just saying hi to all the followers and to thank you for following. I also want to give you all the heads up that I might not be posting as many poems as usual although I really want to stick to what I have been doing so far which is pretty good. Truth be told, the economic downturn has really hit my regular job hard and I'm going to be working extra hard to keep us going until we see a positive change globally. I'm sure as you can see that change is not coming soon.

Oh and one more thing, I've just started writing a story and it is starting look like a novel sized story. The concept just developed over the course of a couple days and like Little Red Hoodie above, I felt compelled to write. The thing is I'm not used to writing such a long story, in fact I'm not used to writing beyond verses, but this feels natural. I'm not sure if I'm going to be posting parts of it as posts as I write it or if I'm going to make it available as an eBook. I should be able to tell you for sure by the end of the year.

Anyway, thanks again for following and let me give a shout out to ReaderWriter, what you are doing is awesome and it's programs like yours that give people a voice and you should be commended. People might think the arts is for rich people or cultured people, and when I say arts I mean from visual to performance to literary, but I see it as a form of expressing oneself, a reflection of the human soul. It is through these forms we see individuals in their true lights. And it's great that you give women a chance to express themselves, their true selves.

I'm sorry if I'm rambling.

XOXO

On Every Face



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 On every face,
A smile.

What better way
To start a new chapter,
A new life than to be
Surrounded by the
Smiling faces of those
We love, we respect,
We hold dearly.

On every face,
A smile.

It's My Thing

vi.sualize.us

Years ago,
I would enter a room
And a corner would
Beckon me.

Once situated,
I would put
Pen to paper,
Paper to pen
And let it flow.

And like a flood heavy
River, my thoughts,
My words would erupt
Onto the pages,
Leaving them soaked.

Soaked with ideas
And concepts
That had no rhyme
Nor reason in my head,
On my tongue,
But on paper,
They would make sense.

In time,
These words stretched
And pulled from the confines
Of verses and stanzas
And morphed into paragraphs
That told stories
That wanted to be known,
To be told,
To be heard,
To be read.

I’ve been doing this
For years, never claiming it
As my own,
As what I do,
As what I am,
But now I own it.

I own the right
To say that
I am a poet,
That I a writer,
It is what I do,
It’s my thing.

I Found Peace

vi.sualize.us

Daniel laughed out loud,
And usually it would thrill me,
But in this moment,
It only chilled me.

The gasoline had leaked
From the can
Creating a river of death
That pooled before me,
Becoming a lake tinged with
My fear.

His eyes were wild,
His movements, too quick,
His hatred shone and flickered
Around him as though it lived
In his atmosphere.

Those fingers used to intertwine
With mine, those hands
Used to stroke my cheeks,
But now they struck a match.

Now they tossed the match
Into the river of death.
Flames caught, leaping and
Jumping, following the river
To where I sit bound.

And in one breath,
The flames began to consume me,
But I refused to look away
From my former lover’s face.

As my skin melted,
As the smoke filled my lungs,
I stared at him,
I stared at my killer.

I died,
And in that death,
I cursed him.

I cursed him with
The darkest of magic,
A magic fed by
My rage.

It was that magic
That kept me alive
After my body had died.
And it was that magic
That helped me kill
Daniel.

And it was in his death,
I found peace in
My own death.

The Last Muse



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She was the last
Of her kind.
The last of the muses,
Sprite women who whispered
Inspiration into the ears
Of artists and geniuses.

One by one,
Her sisters disappeared
As they were no longer needed,
Their voices drowned out
By the droning of modern life.

She was now gaunt
And she knew her days
Were numbered, so
She donned her best dress
And got her favourite parasol,
Then waited for her fate.

It came four days later,
She was frozen in her steps
And slowly her body
Turned into gold dust
And in the breath
Of the digital world,
She blew away.

The last of the muses
Disappeared and
No one was there to
Mourne her loss.

Oh, Beautifully Savage Mind

On February 11, 2010, two days before my birthday, Lee Alexander McQueen died. Over the years, he has always been my favourite designers and I must say I was sad to hear that he had died. The thing is I don't react the same way to death as others, it is something to be respected and accepted as part of life. Anyway, The Metropolitan Museum had put on an exhibition of his work called Alexander McQueen - Savage Beauty which ran from May 4, 2011 to August 7, 2011 and I never got to see it in person. When I read that it was ending on Garance Dore's  blog and saw the pictures she took, I was inspired to write this poem. I hope you like it.

The Met

Oh,
Beautifully savage mind
Wrapped in your neuroses,
Your madness,
Your genius.
I was never sure
Where one began
And the other ended.
All of them residing in
You.

Oh,
Beautifully savage mind,
You inspired me
To see beyond
The parameters of fashion,
Beyond fabric and string,
Fiber and skin,
To a place where
Wood, feathers, horns
And butterflies
Adorn the bodies of nymphs.

Oh,
Beautifully savage mind,
I knew not of your tears,
Your pain, your loss,
The little monsters
That whispered sadness
Into your ears.
I only saw the beauty
That spilled from your mind
By way of your fingers.

Oh,
Beautifully savage mind,
If only we knew,
We would have been
Angels whispering love,
Encouragement, peace
Into your ears.
Our words becoming
Fingers, hands, arms
Reaching across the chasm
Of your pain,
Embracing you,
Warming you
As you pass through
The wintertime called grief.

Oh,
Beautifully savage mind,
We did not know
And you slipped away
Into the great unknown,
And all we can do
Is hold on.
Hold on to the beauty
You left behind,
Hold on to name
We promise never to forget.

Oh,
Beautifully savage mind,
We promise to never forget
That you name was
Alexander McQueen.

To see more of his work from the exhibition, click here.

In This Dream

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If I could
Dream the undreamt
Dream, it would be
Of you draped in
The lace spun by
Spiders that kept
Their special work
For themselves,
But found you deserving
Of such wondrous things.

In this dream,
Instead of wrapping themselves,
Silk worms wrap you
In their luxurious strings,
Believing you are
The one who needs
The transformation,
From beautiful
To divine.

In this dream,
Sheep offer their wool
And fox their fur,
But to the latter you say no,
Accepting only their friendship
That would span the ages.
Woman and animal
Wanting nothing but
Love and understanding.

In this dream,
You are whole,
Existing in the eternal circle,
360°. Understanding that
One action begets another
Which begets the original action.

Love and you will be
Loved and in turn you will
Love.

Believe and it will
Come to pass,
Making you believe.

In this dream,
I become you,
Deserving,
Loving,
Believing,
Being whole.

And in time
The dream will cease
To be a dream,
The dream will become
My reality.

Untitled

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Wrapped in lace and tulle

And the most exquisite of silk,

I contemplated this next step,

This next stage of my life.

No longer is my life

Solely my own,

No longer will my decisions

Be left unchecked,

Unquestioned,

Unchallenged.

I will no longer be a leaf

Floating in the breeze of life,

Going here and there,

Without thought or consideration.

In a few hours,

I will be bound to another,

Tied to another with silken ties

That covered metal chains.

A little bit of my freedom

Traded in for a ring

And a promise.

And yet,

I walk willingly into my fate,

I embrace it open eyes,

An open mind and an open heart.

I shed my singular nature,

And as I wrapped myself

With lace and tulle

And the most exquisite of silk,

I embark on a new beginning,

A beginning with you.



Jonathon

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Jonathon walked along the coastline,
Every now and then,
He would look out
Into the brine
As though he was looking for
Something.

Something that was lost at see,
Or in some far off land
That lay beyond
The horizon,
Beyond our existence.

I would watch him
From a bedroom window
Wanting to reach out to him,
Wanting to wrap him in my arms
And till him that it’s alright
That the pain will subside
From piercing jabs
To a subdued ache.

All I can do is watch him,
Watch the grief devour him,
Consume him thoroughly,
Leaving a shadow of the man
I loved, I cherished,
That I vowed to love
Till Death do us part.

The reality is those vows
Were not accurate.
You see even though
I died,
Our love never died,
It bound us over
The chasm of life and death.

It kept me here and
Although I can’t talk to him,
Touch him,
Kiss him,
I can still love him,
And in some strange way
I think he can feel my love.

In time,
I will fade away
Into the great unknown.
In time,
His grief will fade
Into acceptance and gratitude
That we did share our lives,
But the one thing
That will never fade
Is our love for each other.

I love you, Jonathon
And I know you love me too.