Imperfect Poetry

Cacophony

2010-01-03T23:31:00.002+02:00

On hip hop landscapes
The residues of gunfire
Linger behind every word spoken

Within the towers of its origin
The shallow speak loudest
while flagbearers for the true remain silent

We create beef where there is none
The wretched scramble for crumbs
Devour each other blindly
Blinded by the minute, the shallow, the worthless

That is reality

We all attempt to carve our legacy in the sounds of time

Turning to the music for salvation

We dance across galaxies to a jazz riff

The chords turn within

Birth themselves as reverse harmony

The tears of planets rain down meteors

While MARS, the god of war,

Beatboxes his marching legions to battle

On the wings of a red rat riddim

Planetary no longer, Pluto dreams of being a rock star

He bedded the iron maiden

Slipped anthrax between her sheets

And led zeppelin to the promised land

Hip hop always seems to have beef

Rza’s violins clash with 50 cents of nothing

Souljaboy speaks wordlessly

While those with voice are not heard

Eminem reduced to battling with pop stars

His bite blunted by years of inactivity

And mtv no longer fears a black planet

Though its darkening skin is from the sun

It still lacks the necessary melanin required

To see beyond the crashing laughter

Of children’s nursery rhymes

And teenagers school yard dirty ditties

We live in a symphony of madness

We house multiple personalities

Who sing distorted truth in dis-harmony

The streets are a cacophony of delicious decadence

Yet they birthed us all, Made some of us men

We have tasted the sun

And vomited star dust

Our bodies racked with the impossibility of humanity

Music is the universal language

The weapon we wield blindly

The battleground we shall die on

Our blood shall run thick

Laced with mucus

And the product of our loosened bowels

The last sound we shall hear

Will be the vultures cackling in harmony

The last sound they shall hear

Will be our dying cries

As they delicately pluck at our insides

We once danced across galaxies to a jazz riff

But Coltrane is dead

Miles is dead

Monk is dead

Parker is dead

Hip hop is dying

And music shall herald the end of days

In death

We shall silence the noise

And finally find harmony

the witching hour

2009-02-07T23:40:00.000+02:00

Witches and wizards conjure spells
To break us free from the blocks on blank pages
Goblins and elves sing a merry song
As they throw pity and shame into fire-filled furnaces
It is the witching hour
When the world sleeps
And the words should come
They don't
In hiberbation it seems they are
Leaving writers and poets in perpetual winter
Look to the children
And rediscover the world
Where colours are bright
And the grey glistens with gloss
For in the witching hour
The words must come
The blank page must be filled
The balance must be re-gained
Inspire souls once more with your thoughts
Make their hearts dance
Their eyes see
That there is beauty in words that speak truth
When life is lived in honesty

Dreamer

2009-02-06T00:58:00.000+02:00

She lives in the foreplay of life, streaming together endless nights with beauty, her dreams are what she lives, embracing her spirit and giving willingly, I am in awe of this being, this creature of the night, this soul that lives wholeheartedly .... while I watch on, randomly ... in my dreams

A partnership

2009-02-05T23:41:00.000+02:00

She speaks
And I listen
Without judgement
Without expectation
Without my preconceptions

Her life is hers to live
As is mine
Together we shall conquer the world
The destination is the same
But, sometimes
Only sometimes
The paths we take
Are not the same

The cost of living

2008-07-27T16:25:00.000+02:00

I was in a supermarket the other day. The scanner wasn't picking up one of my purchases and I jokingly said to the lady at the till that it must be free. Her response, "nothing in this world is free.".

And I replied
Everything comes at a price
A pound of flesh, a bank guaranteed cheque, a money transfer or good old fashioned cash are what's needed to get by

Could someone tell me the price of a friendly smile, a reassuring touch on the arm?
How much does love cost, in its pure, unconditional form?
And the feeling you get dancing in the rain on a hot summer's day?
What do words cost?

Nothing is free
Is that the way life has come to be?

Just words

2008-07-23T23:58:00.000+02:00

Burn down the walls of madness
Get high off the fumes
Rage against the machine
But be home in time for supper

Throw off the shackles
Drink from the well of freedom
Live off the land of your fathers
But don't forget to pay rent

Be free
Live with hope
Pursue dreams
But always remember to drive on the right side of the road

Retreat

2008-07-19T21:41:00.001+02:00

She retreats delicately
I watch in silence, reluctantly
Do I speak or let her go

Pain

2008-07-19T21:35:00.000+02:00

The voices have been silent
The muse was in hibernation
And I
I linger on the edge of words
Their sharp sides slicing the tip of my tongue
Reminding me that they shall still be heard
Whether in pain
Or at the nib of my pen
As it randomly scratches between the lines

Writer's block

2008-04-08T08:37:00.001+02:00

Can one forget how to write
Blocked for forever
What do you call it
When the words scream never
Again

An outstretched hand

2008-04-07T22:59:00.000+02:00

Memories are woven into our spirit
Gently laid beneath our skins
Scratch, and they shall come to you
Moments are eternal
They linger on the tips of our souls
Reminders of the once was
That became the is
Roots of what will be

The past reminds us
Of how far we've come
And how much we can be grateful for
The doomsayers shall sing their songs for eternity
They serve as silent clutter
To be ignored

Hope is the fuel that drives the soul
Belief in tomorrow is the nourishment
That wakes you up every day
There is much to be grateful
Live dreams and dream on, sweet dreamer
In your child's smile lies everything you'll ever need
To create a future we can all be proud of

Musical Chairs soundtrack

2008-03-25T23:04:00.000+02:00

This is part of what I hope to be a poem in pieces that I have been scribbling for about six months. Part 1 and 2 lurk somewhere in the archives of my blog. I love music and am fascinated by how it seems to serve as a history in sound. Songs have special meaning within the context of what was happening in your life at the time. I am hoping to publish a lot of the pieces on this site, although I don't know about some... This one is one of my favourites, if I can get it right. Would love your thoughts. I have added the first two parts to this, part 3.

Track 1:
Soul fantasies linger on the dancefloors of memory, transport forgotten sins from then to now, nostalgia has a habit of wiping cracked slates clean, past discretions fade with time, leave only slightly soiled fragments and a bittersweet taste that only returns when you hear that chord, that note, fullblown by the chorus, it is easier to look back than exist in the illusionary present, 'could have been' a refuge from 'to be'....

Where have all the good songs gone?

A boy sits in a room in his father's house, reaches into his father's past to find comfort, the words he hears speak a language only he seems to understand, his friend's don't quite get it, or maybe they just don't want to, the boy finds a semblence of momentary peace in the moments, the sounds reaching through the headphones to caress his heart, this is real art, he whispers wordlessly, and closes his eyes to today, drowning in a yesterday that he knows nothing of....

Where have they gone?

Songs carry our memories, take us to a place once lived, most times, they bring with them the magic of moments, sometimes, only sometimes, the pain they bring chokes....

Track 2:
Mommy I hear voices singing my future, they sing off key to mock me, breed indecision with each twisted melody. My yesterdays have faded into the music archives of time, I dream of classics yet to be sung in my name, the voices still mock me, taunting with schizophrenic harmonies

Where have all the good songs gone?

The division of music into someone's random classification leaves those of us who exist in the grey area confused

Where have they gone, the good songs?

She used to sit, listening her grandmother hum, this was the soundtrack to her childhood, rooted in the earth, the womb, the soul, the calm preceded the storm of puberty, when she stumbled through the music of her youth, and finally understood why, on those sunday afternoons, listening to her small radio in the kitchen, placed next to the stove, why, in between sunday lunch and sunday chores, she would sometimes, not always, just sometimes, she would see a tear in her mother's eyes....

Why have all the good songs gone .....

Track 3:
Dance, my child
Lose yourselves in the rhythms of your father's time
Listen to the words
They speak of a timeless love
Of days long lost
Dance, my child

All of the good songs have gone

Yet they linger
Remastered and remixed
Sampled and re-released
Now they cut the good bits together
And give them life

Why have all the goods songs gone

Each generation finds its classics
Melodies that define the journey into puberty
Musical manifestation of hormonal chaos
You shall have yours one day, my son
Until then, you shall have mine
Nostalgic harmony that maps the misteps of my life
Chords and notes that only ring true
Now that you are here

Why have all the good songs gone?

Sing, sister, sing

2008-03-07T19:15:00.000+02:00

the songbird,
sultry and strong,
playful and immensely powerful,

behind the shutters of her eyes
lies infinite melody and charm,
and when she sings,
the birds perch on the branches of trees and listen in silence
the dogs stop barking
and wolves stop howling at the moon

she reaches to the stars with song
conquers our hearts with emotion
and rhythm and hope

the songbird is a lullaby personified

for her

2008-03-04T23:59:00.000+02:00

i had a dream once
and in this dream
i lived a life of perfection personified

in this i dream
i had a family, a wife, a child
i was a father, a husband, a son, a brother

in this dream i awoke every day knowing i was blessed
and had everything i needed

i had a dream once
a perfect dream
till i realised i wasn't asleep
and the dream was actually my reality

my life!

Mantra

2008-02-29T23:51:00.000+02:00

Build those castles
Will them into existence
Carve your future with thought
Master your reality
With positivity
Know that everything you need to know
Lies in the depths of your spirit
Let your imagination soar above the pettiness of doubt
There is only beauty and happiness in your future
Live them now
And dream
Never forget to dream

In traffic

2008-02-27T08:02:00.000+02:00

Bumper to bumper madness
We sit in limbo daily
Caught in our own stagnation
The trees sway in winds of pollution
Tree huggers decry the lack of shame
The earth's pain
The poor do not have the liberty of conservationist thinking
The rest of us do not see beyond our first meeting or our next pay cheque
Imagine all the people
Peacefully proclaiming their independence
Eradicating profanity

Laughing gas

2008-02-26T08:05:00.000+02:00

He laughs hysterically
The days and endless cacophony of the mundane
Recycled experiences
Never ending repetition
The spark has been lost
And all that keeps him going
Are the strains of insanity

He sits in traffic
Bumper to bumper
Zombie to zombie
The same faces stare off into the distance
Going half crazy with the pain of it all

All he has is 'one day'
One day things will be better
One day it will all make sense
One day his dreams shall become
One day his laughter will come from the gut, the heart
One day

He laughs at the hopelessness
He laughs one day

meaningless words

2008-02-25T23:21:00.000+02:00

these words
tug and pull
tickle and taunt
clog the pen's artery
get caught in my throat
stuck on the tip of my tongue

these words
tease and mislead
evoke hollow dreams
speak mindless truth
linger in the minds of the uncouth
but never grace me with the simplicity of my truth

these words
hide in the shadows
daring me to seek them out
to enter the unknown
to overcome the fear

these words
drag my soul kicking and screaming onto the page
cackling and laughing at my feeble resistance

these words mirror my reflection
magnify my inadequacies
and yet, somehow, give me hope

these words are all i have

Words

2008-02-24T22:46:00.000+02:00

Do we speak for the voiceless
With our coated and cloaked, hollow words?
Do we speak for the downtrodden
Who feel the weight of humanity on their throats?
Do we speak for the children
Not yet able to form words
Trying to make themselves heard through gurgles and burps?
Do we speak for humanity itself
On a treadmill to extinction
Repeating histories lessons blindly
Unwilling to take responsibility for the actions of a few?

Who do we speak for?

Are the we the seers and seekers
The dreamers and believers
Who have the answers to the unspoken questions?

Do we somehow see into the soul of truth
And paint its mirror-image with our words?

If not, then who speaks for them?
If so, who speaks for us?

I am your father, inadequately

2007-12-29T08:04:00.000+02:00

I had a life once
Lived in selfish abandonment

I do not miss it

I have a life now
Lived in accomplishment

I embrace it

Your deeds are my purpose
Your life a testament
To the bricks I lay
Often without thought

This is a new path we travel
I honestly do not know the way
We shall let it unravel
All we have is desire, and hope, and purpose

I embrace it wholeheartedly
Lay my soul at your feet
Breathe your dreams in
And know that
While we travel this path together
There will be a time when you take the wheel
And find your own way

Re-definition of self

2007-12-10T22:33:00.000+02:00

I have been doing some introspection on the significance of the Net on me as a human being, an individual, a writer, etc and posted the below on what was my first ever Blog. We hear all this great stuff about blogging but, due to my inconsistency, I haven't been able to effectively sustain any of my blogs. I am trying to change that. This was posted on http://infinitepursuit.blogspot.com.

Would appreciate your thoughts, if any.

"The Internet, as it re-defines itself, has provided many of us with the opportunity to reach across immense distance to create communities with like-minded people we may never have met in our lifetimes. The advent of collaborative and interactive spaces, like blogs, facebook and MySpace, have created friendships that will last over lifetimes while also allowing many of us to re-establish friendships with those who have moved on.

Sitting in Africa, a continent that has become, once again, a cause for the world, I have always tried to keep abreast, as much as I can, of the developments available to us all. I truly believe that the 'Information Age' is the one era in which there is opportunity for us, as Africans, to start to level the playing field. This Blog was my first one, which I started as a space to discuss the one thing I am truly passionate about - poetry. Since starting this one, I have also started a poetry blog (http://imperfectpoetry.blogspot.com) in which I post all my unedited raw poetry, two Myspace pages (www.myspace.com/kojobaffoe and www.myspace.com/kojothepoet) and a space of Facebook. I also have a random e-newsletter that I send out to a growing list of people, in which I share my thoughts on a range of subjects. (Always worry about whether they are relevant or not)

Anyway, I have discovered that it is easy to caught up in all these things but, over the last few weeks, have started to question the purpose of these spaces, and the countless others I have registered with and never used (and will probably never use coz I can't remember my passwords). In my mind: MySpace is a place for marketing myself as a writer and performer - I have two because I only realised you have to register with My Space Music separately if you want to include music; Facebook is for connecting with friends and I have re-connected with friends I haven't spoken to in over a decade; and, Imperfect Poetry is a self-indulgent experiment driven by a need to share and find relevance in my writing. This space? I don't know. That's what I've been grappling with.

But, I do feel this space is important, especially as my first true step into this new world. So, in an attempt to revive this space, I would like to start including my Ramblings on it. At the same time, if there is anyone who still visits me here, I would like thoughts, ideas, guidance, comments, etc on what you would like to see and hear here from a simple, yet confused African (and European) poet and writer trying to make sense of this crazy reality we reside in.

It's been a while. But I'm still here. Are you?

Easy

Kojo"

Slice

2007-11-28T22:50:00.000+02:00

Dismember yourself
from the umbilical cord of habit
The stars do not rise
To the melodies of your tragedy
They rise anyway
Every day

There's no harmony
In the sharpness of your tongue
No value in your disheveled lifestyle
Tomorrow is for those who wake up to meet it
The sleeping never ingest it

The world does not bow to your pain
It does not taste the bitterness of your tears
Only you feel the bite as they carve their nightmares into your cheeks

There is no conclusion to random words spoken into the mirror
Just a reflection

Definition of identity

2007-11-19T00:02:00.000+02:00

A star-crossed soul
Stands at the crossroads
There are two versions of insanity
Ours and theirs
Each required clarity
In the definition of identity

Guide me
I am your subject
Victim to your theories of subjectivity
My purpose depends on where you stand

Look beyond what you don't see
Truth lies in the blindness of mystery
I've been around the world in theory

Does that make me less of me
And more of what you want me to be

I took the opposite path
Went from white to black
And have discovered I can't really go back
I am the 'other' your mother told you about

Words have become as random as life itself
Are you still waiting for the great god to come from the sky?
Join the line
There are no short cuts
Who you are today is rarely who you are tomorrow

Mission Impossible

2007-11-01T16:25:00.000+02:00

On hallowed ground
We ween ourselves
Of infant fears

Ghouls and goblins crawl out the walls of our sanity
To laugh at our juvenile prayers

Caged between white walls
Behind spotless glass
Amidst stainless glimmering steel
And the purring of machines
Men and women engineer our future
They carve pieces from our innermost flesh
Transform it in the name of evolution

A teenage boy watches heroes
Dreams of pausing time to travel between the ages

Man-made metamorphosis can be natural or chemical
The nightmares can become real
Regardless of the path travelled
Some breathe hope
And some inhale terror

A lifetime unlived

2007-10-29T22:58:00.000+02:00

You have a long road ahead
You have a lifetime still to live
You will have dreams fulfilled and broken
You will laugh and, sadly, you will cry
There will be beauty and, hopefully, a little darkness

Things are not always what they seem
And the lessons you will learn
Will not always be simple or painless
Many will probably only make sense in years to come

You will triumph and, at times, fail
You will love
Yes, you will definitely love
Sometimes wholeheartedly
Sometimes inadequately
But you will love

We may not always have the answers

You will do all these
And many more, my son

I just hope that I am able to give you the tools to come out the other side, in one piece, better for it,
A man who can confront his shadow
Confident in the truth that
He always lives his truth

On my knees

2007-10-17T21:45:00.000+02:00

Who shall write of dreams
When the poets are gone
Who shall paint possibility
When the painters are gone
Who shall sing of hope
When the singers are gone
Who shall carve reality
When the sculpters are gone
Who shall love
When you are gone

Don't leave
There must be a way

Musical chairs pt 2

2007-10-10T22:13:00.000+02:00

Mommy I hear voices singing my future, they sing off key to mock me, breed indecision with each twisted melody. My yesterdays have faded into the music archives of time, I dream of classics yet to be sung in my name, the voices still mock me, taunting with schizophrenic harmonies

Where have all the good songs gone?

The division of music into someone's random classification leaves those of us who exist in the grey area confused

Where have they gone, the good songs?

She used to sit, listening her grandmother hum, this was the soundtrack to her childhood, rooted in the earth, the womb, the soul, the calm preceded the storm of puberty, when she stumbled through the music of her youth, and finally understood why, on those sunday afternoons, listening to her small radio in the kitchen, placed next to the stove, why, in between sunday lunch and sunday chores, she would sometimes, not always, just sometimes, she would see a tear in her mother's eyes....

Why have all the good songs gone .....

Musical chairs

2007-09-23T16:31:00.001+02:00

Soul fantasies linger on the dancefloors of memory, transport forgotten sins from then to now, nostalgia has a habit of wiping cracked slates clean, past discretions fade with time, leave only slightly soiled fragments and a bittersweet taste that only returns when you hear that chord, that note, fullblown by the chorus, it is easier to look back than exist in the illusionary present, 'could have been' a refuge from 'to be'....

Where have all the good songs gone?

A boy sits in a room in his father's house, reaches into his father's past to find comfort, the words he hears speak a language only he seems to understand, his friend's don't quite get it, or maybe they just don't want to, the boy finds a semblence of momentary peace in the moments, the sounds reaching through the headphones to caress his heart, this is real art, he whispers wordlessly, and closes his eyes to today, drowning in a yesterday that he knows nothing of....

Where have they gone?

Songs carry our memories, take us to a place once lived, most times, they bring with them the magic of moments, sometimes, only sometimes, the pain they bring chokes....

The muse has been dethroned

2007-08-20T22:14:00.000+02:00

I have sought the right words
In a lifetime of folly
I have looked to the stars
For the semblence of inspiration
I have lived and loved
Laughed and cried
All in search of ample fodder
To satiate my writing hand
I have observed the world
As it floats by me

And, above all, I have worshipped at the feet of the muse
Offered my soul to her
Lavished her with gifts
Danced at her whim
Made a fool of myself at her bidding
All for the right words

I have done all this and more
And drowned in a writer's block
That has gnawed at my being
Left its teeth marks on my spirit
Rendered my words impotent

I have pursued turmoil
Succumbed to pain and suffering
I have starved myself
Denied myself pleasure
All for the right words

I have done all this and more
I shall do it no more
For he has arrived
He was come to claim his space in his world that once was mine

The muse has been dethroned

My life is no longer my own
I give it to him willingly

Awakening

2007-08-16T23:23:00.000+02:00

I didn't want leave u
I waited so long for u to come
I lingered without reason
But to be in ur presence

I didn't want to leave u
Though there are many such moments still to come
When I will have to leave
For a few hours
Perhaps a couple of days
Always to return

And she
She didn't want you to go
She held you a little closer
Wanting to hold you forever

She didn't want you go
Though there will be times when you do so freely
Always returning to where you hope is

We know there will be those moments when I will leave u
And you will have to go

There will be those moments when we will perhaps disappoint u/you
Or you/u will seek more than what the two of us have to offer

We are only human
And pray that the good will always outweigh the bad
That the stars will always shine brighter than the night
That there will be more laughter than tears

We are sadly only human
And I never want to have to leave u
And she never wants to ever have see you go

You/u are we
And we exist for you/u

The prince

2007-08-15T23:34:00.000+02:00

(For my son)

The prince reached out
From the warmth of his castle
And surveyed the world
Grasping the air with his fingertips

We are but supporting players
In this, his starring role,
The world has shifted
Drums beat to his heartbeat
His desires are all that matters now

I held him
Hands quivering
And knew
Nothing else matters
The stars I shall bend at his will
The moon I shall pull closer for his pleasure
The heavens I shall inflate
The earth I shall move, shift, mold just to see him smile

The prince has arrived
And the king has abdicated

All hail the prince

Frustration

2007-07-24T21:21:00.000+02:00

Every day, I start to write something, put fingers to the keyboard and open my mind in search of words to communicate something, anything. And every day, after line 3 or 4, I delete the words and give up. This space was to allow me the room to ramble randomly, laying the building blocks for what will eventually become complete writings. When it began, it was all good. Words flowed. Now I find myself in a bit of a conundrum. Has it served its purpose? Over the next 6 months, the raw and uncut poems that are on here are going to disappear one by one. Each one that disappears is to be edited in preparation for my next collection. Again I ask myself, does this mean this space has served its purpose? Has it runs its life and deserves to be allowed to die quietly without fanfare? Is what's one here worth taking to the page? Why are there always just questions?

SPAM

2007-06-18T10:04:00.001+02:00

Poetry cannot be SPAM
Across unseen waves of consciousness
Words caress our hearts
Give souls peace
Even for a moment
Blank pages do not scare me
Nor do blank screens
They hold within them endless possibility
Words yet to be spoken
Again and again
Your blank pages house infinity
Keep filling them with poetry
Because poetry cannot be called
SPAM

Inspired by Thom The World Poet's TO LIVE IS TO GIVE

Cell. +27 (0) 83 236 6083
Management/Bookings:
Fazlyn Toeffie +27 (0) 82 880 6862; chileandlime@gmail.com

Blogs:
www.myspace.com/kojobaffoe

http://infinitepursuit.blogspot.com
Poetry:
http://imperfectpoetry.blogspot.com
www.artistswithoutfrontiers.com (Writer's Section)
http://othervoicespoetry.org/vol8/baffoe/index.html

In Word We Trust!!

Confounded mediocrity

2007-05-14T13:39:00.001+02:00

The ordinary lingers
While magic lurks
In the distance

We seek to live
beyond the daily

Imagine our infinity
In the legacy
Passed from lips to ears

Our greatest fears
Are of invisibility

Yet mediocrity
Can be comforting

Living merely for today
Without thought of tomorrow
Breeds followers
Who dare not dream
Of a complete tomorrow

Space and time
Are nothing
When not filled with imagination

Incoherence

2007-05-11T11:07:00.001+02:00

I'm the invisible man
Birth child of giants
Raised in silence
Product of unspoken violence
We can tear at flesh with words
Thoughts unheard
Destiny distorted by expectation

I'm the invisible man
I travel through the boundaries
Nothing can confine me
And so my prison is not belonging
I exist outside the rules
Stand alone
This within are fools
Those without are lonely

We are all invisible
What is the meaning of this vaccuum called reality?

Mayhem, Part II

2007-05-10T08:41:00.001+02:00

When was the last time
you prayed
When was the last time
you dreamt
When was the last time
you lay yourself
At the altar of your imagination
And created an altered tomorrow

The pitiful seek peace in arrogance
The world owes them a rosy reality
Come on, now
Life owes you nothing
We are not born with stars woven into the fabric of our dreams
Reality is a construct we manifest with habit
Relevance is an exercise we perfect with practice
Sanity is a perspective

We tire of your illusions of grandeur
Bend your knees
Look to the heavens
And create castles of positivity

The world owes you nothing

Mayhem

2007-03-23T09:28:00.000+02:00

Metaphors speak of blood and bloody murder
Of forgotten dreams
Of reality coming apart at the seams
Of fake gregarious rantings
Of misguided hope

This is the current state of breath
Perpetual autumn
The leaves are dying
The flowers curl into themselves
The soil is dry
The rains shall never come

Who will save the children
We can't even save ourselves
Truth is a dagger
Thrust into the stomach
Cleaving its way through the intestines

We no longer want to hear truth
It hurts too much

Perfect poetry

2007-03-08T00:02:00.001+02:00

Words drill truth
Into dull minds
Clear bacteria
>From diseased minds

Mental root canal
Open heart poetry

Wish they were mine

Imperfect poetry

2007-03-05T23:19:00.001+02:00

Perfection is a worthy cause
You decide whether you've succeeded or failed

Imperfection is inspiration
It never ends

Dead poets

2007-03-05T23:18:00.000+02:00

Poetry often
Doesn't lie

It lasts forever
Even though poets
Must die

For their spirit
To truly live

Lost carriage

2007-03-05T23:16:00.001+02:00

She said butterflies
made her cry
Their beauty
Reminded her of lost children

Sometimes

Beautiful things
Can't last forever

Though

Their memory
Often does

Liquidity

2007-02-13T22:04:00.001+02:00

Save the whales
Gorillas in the mist fade into extinction
The dodo shall never return
Rhinos are brutalised for ivory
Large tracts of land cordoned off to house these glorious creatures
But what of the people who die crossing them in search of life

Put cows on milk cartons
For every sip a village gets another mouth to feed
The rules of engagement are not theirs
Another hippie knight was recognised
Another pop star gets an audience with a president
Millionaires give millions to malaria
But cause leukemia with their investment

I say come with cash
Carry it in suitcases
And hand it out at the village centre
$200 to every villager
$50 for every child
Come back again next month
Or let's go back to the way it was
Before boundaries were built and borders created
Let's revive the cowry shell
Or barter our way through the marketplace

I'd willingly exchange words for food
Or poems for shelter
But they cannot fill an empty stomach
Or protect us from the rain
Their medicinal speech does not cure AIDS
Or eradicate poverty

I say bring cash
No credit cards, no cheques
No press conferences, no programmes
Just bring cash
Enough to eradicate debt
Enough to pay for the school fees for a few million children
Enough to ensure that kids are fed

Think about it.
If you took 5% of the net worth of the 100 richest people in the world
And handed it directly to the people who needed it
We could truly make poverty history

I say bring cash

Blinders removed

2007-01-07T22:21:00.000+02:00

Inspired by James Brown and every mother, sister:

She has birthed herself from the breathe of dreams
Willed herself into existence on the hopes of her mother and grandmother
She is their voice in the present
And she will not fail

The winds whisper her name late at night
When undreaming minds have been laid to rest
And she sleeps in dimensions other than this one

She leaves nothing to chance
The universe is being re-modelled to suit her desired colour scheme
Hope and inspiration are dressed in matching garments
And the three of them spend their evenings carving the future from their laughter

We are merely players in a play of her doing
She has commissioned our lives
And pulls at the strings of our madness when we veer off the chosen path

It may be a man's world
But I willingly lay my being at her altar
Because it wouldn't mean nothing
Without a woman in it

Fire in her eyes

2007-01-03T23:55:00.000+02:00

Flames of fear flash
Fuel for the madness
Crass manifestion of happiness
There are thoughts to last the planet a lifetime
Yet we recycle them at random
They've been heard before
Thought before, spoken before
The packaging may be different
But they've been lived before

We perpetuate cycles
Spin the wheel endless
And reinvent it daily

Have we not learned the lessons
Are we as feeble as Icarus' wings
Is our tendon the only symbol of immortality

The sound of the police is a siren ringing into the future
The sound of repetition is hearts cracking under the weight of a lack of originality

We are living dangerously
So dangerous that our madness has become normality

What shall we become?

War

2007-01-03T09:23:00.000+02:00

While we sleep
The bombs rain down on the heads of unknown children
Their bodies are separated from their spirits
they return to the heavens
And forsake the physical

While we sleep
They carve our souls from the earth
Fertilise it with our blood
Build fortresses on our land
Take ownership of what is not theirs to take

While we sleep
They wage war in the name of an equality that makes them stronger
Renders us the weaker

While we sleep
The bullets penetrate our bodies
Cleave humanity from humankind
Evolve us to a state of barbarism that has never existed
In the name of civilisation

While we sleep
While we sleep

While we sleep
Our prophets, our heroes, our fathers, our mothers are killed and buried in mass graves of silence
Their words drowned by the drone of fighter planes and gunships that take ownership of the skies

While we sleep
Peace is reversed
War is birthed
Death becomes the norm
Mind control real
Passion smothered
Souls extinguished

While we sleep
We lose our relevance
Our existence becomes irrelevant
Our legacy is silence
Our lives are nothing
We cannot run forever

Wake up!
I said wake up, children of the night
The world is coming to an end
What shall you tell your children?

What's it all for?

2006-11-04T02:18:00.000+02:00

I want to write funny poetry
Stand up comedy poetry
The kind of poetry that brings tears to your eyes and makes your stomach hurt
The kind of poetry that has you sitting in the fourth row
To the side in the hope that my eyes won't catch you
And the words won't speak to you

I want to write movie scene poetry
The kind that speaks to you in moving picture and sound
The kind that has you pondering the hidden meaning when the words have long been spoken
Or dazzles you with words that explode, crash and burn without CGI and any other digital endeavours that may mislead the eye

I want to write poetry that puts Picasso, Monet and Van Gogh to shame
As the words splash a multitude of colour on your mental canvas
Poetry that reaches into your chest, grabs your heart and squeezes it gently

I want to write poetry to dance to
The rare kind that has you bobbing your head to melody only you hear
Shaking your ass and tapping your feet to words that breath rhythm
The kind of poetry that mixes breakbeats with symphony, laid beneath a voice that sings straight through you
As opposed to at you

I want to write early morning poetry
A mantra that brings peace calm and hope
Meditation poetry for the mystery of sunrises
When the world seems clean and peaceful for one short, colourful moment
The kind that makes you feel whole again
And closer to heaven than life in the womb

I want to write cosmic poetry
The kind that traces the rims of the moon's craters
Kisses the stars and basks in the glory of the sun
The kind that orbits randomly between planets,
Even Pluto, despite the demotion,
And rides on the winds of meteors
As they journey through galaxies
In search of their final resting place

shadow talking

2006-10-31T23:46:00.000+02:00

darkness is the light
it leads me to moments of silence
where truth resides

the daily cacophony
blinds the mind
to what lies in the residues of essence

the winds howl songs of confusion
the sounds of the city deafen
the sights are burdens
tattooed on the hearts of children

time never stands still
laughter is a rarity
sanity is a luxury
hope is the sole provider
dreams trusty companions
sleep infrequent

happiness comes only to those who find silence in the shadows

closed doors

2006-10-26T20:42:00.000+02:00

talk to me
tell me of the winds
and the stories the whisper
tell of me of the words
silence speaks
words that i do not hear
they carry your thoughts
though they remain hidden from me

share with me
allow me a glimpse to the space
beyond your pupils
where your truth resides
allow me moments of clarity
dialogue to replace our parallel monologues
we can only be we with we
instead of the you and i
we seem to languish in

all i ask for is you
please let me in
i'm tired of knocking

I can't think

2006-10-24T22:15:00.000+02:00

I hear gunfire
When the lights are out
When the streets are dark
When all sleep
I hear gunfire
It rattles within my skull
Blinding
Deafening
Unrelentless
Gunfire

Lost words lack destination

2006-10-23T22:30:00.000+02:00

Lost thoughts resurface
Lead us to old truths
Create ripples in today's reality
The past is no longer what it used to be
The future is a place of fear
Where madmen roam beyond their politics
Dreams and ambitions are not the same
It is the ambitious who weave their darkness into the fabric of this world and the next
The dreamers are content to exist in isolation travelling between the 4th and 5th dimensions
But never the first
There is a fine line between poetry and sermons
Although poetry seeks no worshippers
The words mean the same
It is the speaker that brings down the walls of insanity and defines their truth
These words have no destination
They meander through the tentacles of life seeking the words that have come before
And have long since faded into the libraries of time

The end of silence makes no sense

2006-10-12T22:00:00.000+02:00

We leave traces on the stars
Traverse galaxies randomly
Hitchhiking our way between meteorites

When I sleep the possibilities are infinite
Deep in fantasy, I awaken to reality

Which is truth?
The world behind my eyes
Or the world before them
We live in life's emergency room
Bullets pockmarking the walls
Battlefields are whenever we want them to be
And, often, where we least expect them to be

I hide behind words
And pray for a brighter tomorrow

Poetry

2006-10-05T22:50:00.000+02:00

Poetry is ...

....... the carving of flesh from the bones of angels
...... moving parts of the mind rattling hollow
...... children laughing at silence
...... moonbeams caressing a lover's brow
...... murder by random words
..... the sound of stars breaking
...... the warmth of a womb
...... nails being pulled with a pliers
...... your first kiss
...... a dying breath
...... passion undefined

Bird in the hand

2006-10-03T23:45:00.000+02:00

The answers are in the silence
Listen to carefully
And they'll pass you by
Excessive thought births a vaccuum
It is in the doing that we truly live
The heroes of this reality are the trees
The birds linger and are given life by the wind
Beneath the soil is truth
Between earth and sky
We live in an illusion
I know why the caged bird sings
She recognises our common capitivity
Within the bars she is truly free
While we are imprisoned in the city
Long, cold, damp streets and alleyways
Lead us willingly to the comfort of purgatory
We prop ourselves us with caffeine in its various forms
Death comes to us all
Our clotted blood thickens within dried veins
The maggots have gone on strike
The quality of feed has diminished
Who knows what you can catch from the polluted dirt
The cynic is reborn

I don't want to

2006-10-03T09:13:00.000+02:00

I have stood on the precipe
And laughed into the wind
I have dance on the edge of a razor
And conversed with the dead
I run on the cliff's edge
With utter disdain for the rocks below
I have lived and loved
I inhaled and exhaled
I have done it all
But I am still young
The future is a meandering road across uncompromising mountains
The future is a thought lingering in the back of your mind
The future is not worth living for
Only today matters

Anonymous

2006-10-01T20:58:00.000+02:00

Fresh water
Broken laughter
Spirited souls
Hopeful minds
Distant eyes
Tearful memories
Never-ending stories
Wide-eyed fascination
Wanted dreams
Walking dead
Reborn children
Fearful containment
Slow death

Hi, my name is Kojo
And I'm a junkie
I suckled the white princess' dry, powder-filled breasts
Together we gave birth to smoke
And my impeding death
But she loves me no longer
And I can no longer fulfil her desires
Ours is a story that has come to an end
And now I stand before you
With drifting heart
Broken thought
Mindless hope
Blank dreams

Blue

2006-09-25T19:37:00.000+02:00

Lady sings the blues
Beneath blue skies
The sun's rays dampened
by the blue tinge in her eyes

The piano man hunches uncomfortably
Over the black and white keys
The piano whispers history's cries

The sax player curls into the sounds
As the sax wails
Melodic storytelling of a history of pain

The drummer lazily beats on the drums
Arms too tired to lift
Heart too heavy to enthuse
The skin of the drum sag
Like the wrinkles on a worn t-shirt

And the lady still sings the blues
Death can be short and painless
But sadly the reaper is otherwise occupied
And is taking is time
So the lady sings the blues

Beef

2006-09-22T07:32:00.000+02:00

On hip hop landscapes
The residues of gunfire
Linger behind every word spoken

Within the towers of its origin
The shallow speak loudest
Flagbearers for the true remain silent

Heightened awareness breeds focus on self
Definition of wealth is in building of self
We create beef where there is none
The wretched scramble for crumbs
Devour each other blindly
Blinded by the minute

word speaks

2006-09-20T22:45:00.000+02:00

i am the last word to be spoken
when the earth implodes
sucks the humans to death at its core
i will be the last thought
the final state of existence

when their lives flash before the collective eyes
when the sins of their fathers, and their fathers, and their mothers, and their mothers
come home to roost on the volcano's edge
when regret clogs their arteries
and they dream of taking it all back
i shall be the last word to pass their lips

i take no pride in this knowledge
i do not preen or gloat or swagger
it gives no pleasure and no satisfaction
i do not linger in anticipation of that moment
when i am spoken in truth
when all that i am
and all i represent
is whispered to the heavens
in the hope that i shall bring hope
in the wish that i may somehow fulfill the last wish
in the belief that the mere mentioning of me
shall reverse centuries of action

i do not pride in all of this
it gives me no pleasure
to know that i shall be on the tip of millions of tongues
as mankind slips brutally into nothing

i am the last word to be spoken
i am .......................... MOTHER
the last word that will ever be spoken

My rabbit hole

2006-09-20T02:08:00.000+02:00

My word is my bond
Fuses me to the thoughts I speak
On the page lies my being
Schizophrenic and contradictory
I mirror the ramblings of my mind
Man is judged by his action
And my action is word
So shall I be judged by word rather than action
I exist at a fraction
Of my potential
My stupidity often rears its cobra-like head
But my word is my bond
So I follow its footsteps across the page
And pray for ambiguity between the lines

How high

2006-09-18T00:51:00.000+02:00

Faceless man paints murals of heroes on suburban complex walls
The nameless and the soul-less collide on street corners
Brought together by weed smoke
Class barriers crash under the weight of cravings
Natural viral metaphors swim their veins
Multiple blessings born out of living in theory
The practical enactment of blaze is hazy
Truth is changing into reality in a phone booth

Animal speak

2006-09-14T23:24:00.000+02:00

I have tasted her
Run my tongue across her heart
Suckled passion from her mind
While she raked her nails up my back
We have lost ourselves in turbulent rivers
Caught our collective breath on the edge of waterfall
Drowned in the silence of our moment

The boundary between love and lust is thin
We traverse it easily
Finding comfort in the sounds we create as echoes
There is that moment when we are submerged in the rawness of our coupling
We embrace it and each other willingly
Knowing that we shall slip back across to love's nest
When we are satisfied

The creation of perfection is not in the perfect romance
But rather in the ability to give ourselves freely to each embrace
However we decide to define it

Broken love

2006-09-13T22:29:00.000+02:00

Give me a word, any word
Something to entice the muse
She's been difficult of late
Teasing me with residues of inspiration
She pecks me on the lips
But holds her lips tight
Not allowing me even the slightest taste of her breath

Share a line, any line
Something that will ignite her passion
Warm her blood
Dampen her soul
And loosen her spirit
We were so close once
Our skins had coccooned to enclose the two of us in beauty
We were inseparable
And I had every thought, every emotion and every poem at my disposal

I suspect she is seeing someone else
I have suspicions that her lips and arms and heat are now for another

Give me a poem, any poem
Mine seems to slither to a stop
Even before I begin

Wordplay

2006-09-12T17:00:00.000+02:00

Temperature's rising
And we reach across the city
In anticipation of what's to come
The words we speak are practice strokes
We tease each other playfully
Without bravado or doubt
Ours is a dance we have danced many times and still we never tire
We hear the same drum and move to the same rhythm
Which is the work half done
All that's left is the manifestation of pleasure

ge inspired

2006-09-10T22:45:00.000+02:00

when she cries
the tears sing lullabies down her cheeks
she is a similie in love with ideas
and when they kiss
they kiss so deeply
metaphors get jealous
envious of their passion

it's still early days
their moments are passionate
and there is still much work to be done

in another lifetime
she was in love with adjectives
they lived on blue lines
and dreamt of creating beautiful language
theirs was the birth of romanticism
but adjectives had an unholy alliance with nouns that couldn't be broken

and now similie has found comfort in the arms of ideas
and only time has the answer to the conclusion to this lyrical saga

?

2006-09-07T00:35:00.000+02:00

Random words
Alleged poetry about poetry
Thoughts give birth to more thought
Recycled for mass consumption
The wordsmith becomes voice of the masses
And his words are silenced
Consciousness is unconscious of self
Humanity's travails distract from true purpose

Please step aside for the hearse
It carries the body of a poet who died of hunger
Homelessness is the destination of the pure
They seem so sure

Keep it real
Stay true to self as long as we define that truth

I've stopped thinking about the meaning of life
It makes my head hurt
I've taken to eating dirt
Brings me close to my nature
We shall find a home in the soil one day
Even those who get burnt
Everything ends up dust
A smoother derivative of what we have created out of dirt

It's been said that sleep is the shadow of death
Let me succumb to the shadow's warm embrace

Words are hard to come by

2006-09-06T23:03:00.000+02:00

It is in your silence
That you live your truest moments
Creature of glances and sighs
I hear the words in your breaths
The rise and fall of your chest
The twist of your lips
The gentle thoughts of your eyes
It is in those
And your silence that we find common ground

Just another

2006-09-04T23:32:00.000+02:00

This is just another love poem
Nothing too deep
Nothing mildly intellectual
Just a regurgitation of chest pains
The nice kind
The kind that seems to rise in the company of her

This is just another love poem
About lips, and hips, and trembling
Lots of trembling
The nice kind
The kind that seems to precede climax

This is just another love poem
About want, desire, need
It consumes, embraces, engulfs
And I bleed tears of joy
It is a poem about me and her
And what happens when we are together
And how we feel when we are apart

This is just another love poem

Alphanumeric

2006-09-01T20:11:00.000+02:00

Poetically inclined
Mathematically defined
Word plus word equals truth

X is the unknown

Inquisitive minds diminish with growth
The teenage years are humourless
The adult years are colourless

Word times word divided by truth equals life

We are stuck on a leaking raft miles
From sanity's shore
Kicking at shark fins with our bare feet

Word minus word is a vacuum where thought floats freely
Its randomness is just that
Random

We infrequently dance in tandem
Most of the time we stumble in opposite directions in search of the same rhythm

The square root of word is infinity
A times word plus b times word equals x is the unknown consequence of truth
Childlike reflection of laughter

In the beginning of the word
And on our death beds
The last breath shall be in word

In cold blood

2006-08-30T22:58:00.000+02:00

Blood runs cold
Clotted and thick
Drops splatter onto the tiled floor
Squeezes between the unseen cracks

They reach out with fire
Burn the bridges of humanity
How easy it is to take a life
When life's meaning is lost
In the cracks in the universe

Yet they speak like we do
They laugh, they cry
They bleed and once they dreamed
But we stand poles apart
On the edge of extremity
The uninhibited and the inhibited
My blood runs hot
And theirs is cold

Unspoken letter

2006-08-29T23:30:00.000+02:00

You and I exist in the wind
It carries our unspoken
It whispers our silences
It is the only place
Where we can allow our desires to flourish

We have reached a state of turmoil
That has become natural
Our lips speak untruths
While our silences shout what is real

We are drifting aimlessly
Because we fear definition
Once the truth is spoken
It takes form
And we cannot allow it to take root

Cause & effect

2006-08-26T08:29:00.000+02:00

What's ur cause?
Do you bleed tears in the face of poverty
The skeleton is children breathing death
As life leaves their bodies prematurely
Mothers powerless
While their souls turn to dust
And their hearts break with every laborious cry

Are animals ur thing?
Have you protested against whaling
Cried when your favourite puppy died
Taken comfort in a purr against your ear

Or is global warming what burns indignation into your spirit
As your fellows pursue their selfish purpose without thought for the inevitable extinction of our species
Glaziers melt and drown cities
The earth opens up and takes back what belongs to her

What is your cause?
What tragedy bleeds ur heart?

We lie together

2006-08-24T23:43:00.000+02:00

She idly pours herself over me
Oblivious to the intensity of the simple act as I bend into her
I feel her fill all of me and I return the favour
We drift rudderless feeling our way over the waves of a turbulent ocean of desire
We have become every song, every poem, every manifestation of erotic thought
We have become every illusion and every fantasy as we realise the silences that precede acts of lust
We have turned our backs on society's political correctness
And colloborate in a duet that celebrates the physical and spiritual
Untainted by romantic notions of love

Have you ever your heart stop at the moment of climax and touched the heavens, even for a moment?

The spirit returns to its place amongst the stars before being jolted back to this physical reality
In that lies the beauty
Love, at that moment, is a mere after-thought that we bask in while sharing a cigarette
Or simply catching our collective breaths

Without lust
Can love
Make a home
In our consciousness

She sleeps
And I follow closely

Is there anything sweeter
Or more perfect
That this moment?

The future is reborn in our hearts

2006-08-23T21:53:00.000+02:00

These are the end of days
When his children shall scour the earth
Crawl from the cracks in the earth
From deep within the core
The angels of hell are scaled
Fire-breathers, demons of madness

These are the end of days
But god's angels man the gates to humanity
They are the keepers of dreams
Watchers of god himself
Because we are created in her image
An image defined by the individual we

These are end of days
The battle has begun over deserts
When it should be fought in our hearts
The illuminati has redefined our futures
Taken us to the precipice
And violently whispers us over the edge

These are the end of days
These are the end of days
The future lies in our voices, in our hearts
And in our pursuit of truth

The end of days shall end
And we shall return to the beginning

Visual Fantasy

2006-08-22T22:30:00.000+02:00

The eyes are windows to eternity
Reflections of infinite dreams
Lived in fantasy
How beautiful they are
Speaking in truth
When the lips speak detours

Our souls peer from behind them
While we attempt to guard our fragility
Our pupils expand and contract
When we least want them to
And so we hide behind man made shields
Afraid that we shall reflect truth always

Addiction

2006-08-21T21:20:00.000+02:00

Her eyes speak volumes
The depth of passion
Vibrates beneath her skin
Her lips tremble
When we touch
As she mirrors the murmurs of my lust
And moans a collective sigh

We are piano keys playing harmoniously
We are every instrument played
We are every song sung
We are a duet between lovers

She exhales into me
Her breath leaves a residue of passion on my tongue
Before tracing my insides

I crave her like cocaine

Unplugged

2006-08-20T20:32:00.000+02:00

He sings the words I wish I could speak
This son of warring factions
Perches himself on the face
Inhales the best of two worlds
And spits out a spiritual truth

There is nothing greater
When your unspoken words
Come back at you on wind
They dance between the spirit's strings
Take ownership of your heart
And send you flying into yourself

You drown in the waters of his song
His fingers play your soul like an acoustic guitar
His voice carves truth into your skin
His heart is yours, speaking on your behalf
You return to silence because any thought you speak will be inadequate
Instead you listen to him speak your words
Instead you let him unwrap the petals of you
And lay you bare before humanity

It is possible to love spiritually
The physical an inconvenience you do not allow yourself
It is possible to transcend the trivial pre-determined ideals of human ego
It is possible to be engulfed by that which is born of another man or woman's mind
Without expectation or demand
It is possible to be in love with music
And those that give birth to it

(Wrote this while watching Lenny Kravitz Unplugged. My dream is to write a book filled with poems about my favourite artists. Those who overwhelm me and, often, silence me with the beauty of their creativity. Those who speak my words when I am speechless. They are so many: Marvin Gaye, Jimi Hendrix, Prince, Terence Trent D'Arby, Seal, Carlos Santana, Darius Rucker, Bob Marley, etc. There are artists I enjoy, but there are also those who engrave their words and sounds on my heart.)

Frenzy

2006-08-17T20:40:00.000+02:00

My Development has been Arrested
So I travel Lyte
In search of the Lost Boyz
There were last seen in between the 2nd and the 3rd Bass
Puffing on a phat Mary J

Big Daddy is in court as witness for the trial of the year
Kane killed Abel and figures its no Biggie
He's Notorious, sees himself Smooth
Never been out of jozi
But reckons he's got peeps in Boogie Down

Meanwhile these thoughts weighing me down
Just plain Heavy, like my friend Darrel, but we generally just call him D
He into sound EFX

It's raining and the hail coming down like Ice Cubes
Was feeling Brand Nu this morning
So so def jamming to Dre on my walkman
I'm a Brat, this I know, oh so Grand
But my baby cares for me
We spend our weekends
Picnicking under a cypress tree on the hills of the city

The years have slipped by

The muse

2006-08-15T23:26:00.000+02:00

Her eyes reflect the sunlight
Blind passers-by with their fury
Her lips twitch
Words caught between her teeth
Fire seeping from her lips

They carved her infamy in the walls
Spoke her secrets in dark alleys
Whispered her madness behind closed doors
Yet she heard every inference
Inhaled every whisper
And she has come to enact her revenge on their souls

Every artist,
every poet,
every musician,
every singer,
every being that dreamt of lying in her arms shall perish at the flickering tongue that she wields

They feigned to speak for her
History shall be reversed
And perceived beauty, and word, and rhythm and harmony shall be made right

She has returned to where it once started to start things over

From light to dark

2006-08-13T00:04:00.000+02:00

The purpose of life is to end
The count down to darkness
Is the waiting room
A state of limbo
A temporary construct
An artificial lab
An experiment with no conclusion
Other than death

Real living starts beyond the here
Real life starts in the after
In the space between death and birth

The space between heaven and hell
Is all an illusion
A metaphor in which we inhale breath's likeness

Await true birth when that breath leaves our bodies
Only then shall the answers come
Because everything that has a beginning must end
And in that end, we are reborn
To start all over again

grammatical error

2006-08-10T23:31:00.000+02:00

i was born a metaphor
incomplete, not quite whole
like august wind
like summer's heat
like a crooked street
like a butterfly in heat
like a heart off-beat
like a dream unlived
like lessons unlearned

i was born incomplete
like a metaphor without an end
like a random thought
like an error disrupted
like - like - like - like

i exist on the edge of a razor
standing on the outside
speechless, depleted
silently evicted

i hide myself behind cracked mirrors
my laughter echoes like a desert winds
undressing the trees
and stroking their limbs

I thirst like a hole in the ground
beyond the earth's crust is lava
crystals of unformed diamond
the grime of a dying planet
drains me of bodily fluids

i worship at the feet of druids
and priests and new age do-gooders with flowers in their hair
equal opportunity generation
misguided ancients
i am a manifestation of their nightmares
built on fading dreams

i am like a metaphor soon to be complete .........

Gunpowder

2006-08-09T21:40:00.000+02:00

I have lived lifetimes
In a single breath
Traversed the galaxy
With the force of spirit
Danced with angels
In the afterburn of breaking stars
Breaking as in b-boying
The stars break out into head spins, pop-locks to the sound of a meteor's beatbox
The number one contender for planetary MC is blood red mars
Warrior god spits rhymes like no other
Pluto to cold to get fired up
And venus too hot
With enough love to light up a room
Next week
We're having a poetry slam
Coz too many poets sound like failed emcees
No props, just lines, rhyme and reason

Orgasm

2006-08-08T14:57:00.000+02:00

A subtle twist
A delicate sigh
A gentle smile
A sensitive laugh
A dreamy look
A creamy kiss
A moment becomes eternity
Snapped back to a moment
When eyes open

Drown in infinity, birth child
Ours is a pre-contracted meeting

When the stars collide
They burst into blue and green flame
When we touch
We match that flame
Burn holes into the core
Refill the gaps
When we touch once more

A single-minded existence
Leaves trails of lust of your skin
We are love
We live it
We breath it
We manifest it
But not right now

Let us not defame this pure moment
With love's distraction

Plough the seas

2006-08-06T22:03:00.000+02:00

The monks are humming
Ancient gothic incantations
In praise of a medieval god
The imman speaks an alternative truth
Calling all to prayer from a distant tower
The priest wraps him-self
In the symbols of his calling

I do not pray
God and I conversate till late into the night
Debate the relevance of it all
And the meaning of truth
We pass a goblet filled with spirit between us
Sip the light that is life
Drink the waters of sanity

Come with me, my child
Let me show you the edge of hell
So that you may see my beauty

I respond, I have lived it already
Show me beauty
That I may ingest the stars
And inhale heaven

I have tried to meditate
But my mind saunters down the alleyways of reality
Never giving me a moment's respite
I was born of fishermen and farmers
Colonial blue collar men and women
Who sought not meaning
But relevance
They dreamed not of control
But positive influence
They did not hold down
But gave wings to the wind
And sent their children soaring

And I am one of them
Their children
I carry the fire of their pain in my belly
Suckle on their laughter with my pores
I taste the yam, cassava and okra in their smiles
I sip their sauerkraut, eisbein and wurst from their smiles
They often interrupt my conversations with god with smiles
Ancient voices that channel wisdom
Down my ethereal umbilical cord
Often she watches from god's side
Never speaking, just smiling
Dreams infused
Eyes amused
Languish in truth
Eyes tortured
Spirit abused
Will we ever be together?

Collateral Damage

2006-08-06T01:55:00.000+02:00

Rebirth is a burden
We remain ignorant to
In the resurrection
We fall short of perfection
Random imitation
Of a god we don't believe in
Shades of brown
Tales of clowns
Flesh sold by the pound
Falling bombs
Distorted sons
Those who lead are meant to follow
While the true leaders wallow
In a zombie-like illusion
Trace your ancestry
Follow the intricate trail of physics
Quantify your existence
You shall see
That is no real difference between you and me
Beyond my self-inflicted genius
I've taken to listening to silence
The voices only make me feel inadequate
Their screams seem like laughter
And they've stopped answering my prayers
I've taken to talking to blades of grass
Listening to the whispers of leaves in boabab trees
The flowers are shallow
But make more sense than most people I know
Must be the shortened distance between germination and death
All they crave is water and sunlight
While we seek another aimless reason to fight
If I could take flight
I would
I was born into this species
Diseased minds
Degraded hearts
Corroded laughter
Acid rain tears
Burn holes in my sanity
Soon it shall be time to leave
May the universe reincarnate me as a lowly tree
Somewhere far or within a restricted area
To be human is to be expendable
And I am tired of being fodder
12 monkeys sit on a tree
And plot my destiny
All I want is to be free
All I want is to be free
From what?

I don't know!

11.02.2006 (1)

2006-08-04T23:25:00.000+02:00

The date in the title is when I wrote and posted (http://infinitepursuit.blogspot.com) the first four lines. Today I played & the results are below:

Our shadows dance beneath the pale blue moonlight,
our spirits graze the stars,
frolick in the aftermath of angel dust,
love & lust stroke our laughter,
life is lived in chapters of 10 lines,
each a decade in time's linear confusion,
none of the 10 lines actually rhyme,
we are left with the randomness of chaos,
broken down to the smallest of atoms,
let's sit in a circle around candles,
get drunk and define it seance,
though the only dead we speak to are reflected in the wine,
our cups overfloweth with the lies we tell ourselves,
who's to blame for ignorance?
ourselves?
our parents?
the semi-erect sapien who first walked the earth on our behalf?

The teacher's duty is to themselves,
but who shall lie to the nation,
we do not think,
hence the increasing demand for drink,
if only it came through the taps,
our trough relabelled sink,
aluminium glistens giving our thoughts a metallic tinge,
our parents whinge at the state of education,
moulding their children into lighter shades of themselves,
let us not dwell on the hues of stupidity,
the opaqueness of our neighbours,

on the continent,
we rarely hear the lion roar,
live to far from the zoo,
for the african stereotype to remain true,
lost in the oceans of confusion,
atlantis only appears when you close your eyes,
how loud does a mermaid scream,
when her heart has been broken by a land dweller,
glamour rests not on the surface,
but in the blueness of the sky and sea,
wanton melody is a thought,
fragments into a song played out of tune
The beauty of thought is its ability to dance across lifetimes unrestricted to one line

we are not worthy

2006-08-03T23:13:00.000+02:00

lost in a labyrinth
amazed at the intricacy of a maze
when I hunger I graze
for words between a book's page
read between the minds
truth is a three letter word full blown
eternal flame is a thought still growin
the birth of the beauty is an unknown
drop to your knees and give praise to man-made prophets
murder on my mind
stumped for a word that rhyme
one day I shall learn to dance in a straight line
mother, please forgive me
my thoughts dance between the planets
never resting long enough to see you

some thoughts never end and I have no idea where this is going but I must end it. my excuse: reading saul williams - the dead mc scrolls. what I am reading at any given moment tend to influence how my thoughts connect or do not connect. easy. kojo

He is truth

2006-08-02T16:00:00.000+02:00

The drunken master sidesteps nature's swipes and tiptoes over waters
His prophecies are yet to come true
So he keeps on moving
Grooving to an intoxicating beat
He is man dressed in drag
Seeking his feminine side
And a little peace from heightened awareness and dreams
Trees have lost their leaves
But it is not spring
Flowers bend under the weight of the sun but it is alarmingly cold
The snows have melted but ice clogs every street

He is a son of the earth
Through him the blood of humanity runs
Mixed together to form the only colour there is
He picks no sides, has no allegiance to no flag
Hate is man-made
And he is born in the image of God
He is born in the image of God

Why fight when the battle has already been lost

2006-08-02T12:35:00.000+02:00

The relics of today
Hatred multiplied infinitely
The beat of the drum
Precedes a death march
Madness is a cop-out
Difference is a medal to be worn
Tomorrow we shall all be dead
And our children shall project our insanity
Settling scores we failed to complete
The pitter-patter of their feet
Shall echo into the silence of death's screams
We dare not dream
We shall never be free
The heavens bleed
The earth dry heaves
But there is nothing left for it to vomit
The apocalypse has arrived
We just don't see it yet
Sadness is a luxury that only the sane have
The rest wander blindly through the corridors
Hoping for a sliver of hope
Accepting that it is not meant to get better
Night has come
And the only peace on earth
Is in the silence of sleep

Speaking for the sake of speech

2006-07-25T23:48:00.000+02:00

We deserve moments of silences
Pauses in breathe
Where time slows his step
Sanity reaches out with her tentacles
And truth prevails

We deserve laughter
When reality halts its onslaught
And force feeds us clarity

We are desrving of so much
But get so little

Around the world in 20 seconds

2006-07-20T22:50:00.000+02:00

Across invisible borders
They lob bombs of hate
At unseen faces
Tearing humanity apart at the seams

In the name of the intangible
They claw at each other
Ripping limbs into shreds
Their human-ness drained
Their beauty nullified

We seem to be better at destruction
In the name of madness
Than the reversal of truth's pain and suffering

The meaning of time

2006-07-19T07:42:00.000+02:00

Morning dew glistens
Reflecting the sun's first glances
The breeze dances between blades of grass
And smoke hangs lightly above the city
He rubs his eyes, crawls out of bed to start another day
His morning ritual commences
His mind steps ahead
Planning the day ahead with a heady mixture of reluctance and excitement
The possibility of the unknown
Is a cross we all bear
And he carries it painfully

The other side of night

2006-07-18T22:03:00.000+02:00

I spend my nights
Listening to the sound of possibility
Each whisper, each creak, each thud,
Charges the imagination
And sends fear crawling up the spine

I have succumbed to the madness of random thought
Allowed impossibility to encroach on my sanity

I recognise this all
But still ......

I inhale song

2006-07-17T22:56:00.000+02:00

I've always wanted to write a poem about music
Words melodic enough to capture the essence of song
A lyrical journey through chord and harmony
I play my favourite songs over and over again
Hoping that inspiration shall and the words will flow
But they never do
All I hear is indefinable sounds

I've always wanted to write a poem about music
But
How do you speak Marvin Gaye?
How do you describe Jimi Hendrix?
How do you verbalise Prince?

I've always wanted to write a poem about music
But it's simpler to just .....

The death of silence

2006-07-16T21:51:00.000+02:00

With each blow he becomes invisible
This vicious cycle of pain
A misguided attempt to define himself
When the madness lies within him

He seeks to silence the voices in his head with her screams
His reflection no longer looks back at him
When he drifts past the mirror
With his eyes turned inward

He dreams of manhood
Never realising with each action
He becomes less of a man
Self-castration takes many forms
And he is becoming a euneuch

He has heard that the heart carries love
And looks for it in the puddles of blood he leaves
He has heard that this is what men do
And looks at those who are invisible too
To lead the way to salvation
He has become everything he despised
And is surprised at the hate she harbours

They are caught in a chaotic rhythm of his doing
But I am the greater sinner
I have seen and yet I do not see
I have heard and, yes, I do not hear
I have spoken but do not speak
I am the reason she shall gasp her last breath under the weight of his fists
I am responsible for the consequence of my silence

reflections

2006-07-15T23:04:00.000+02:00

lately, my shadow has started taking form
a four dimensional reflection of me
that fades in and out of reality

it doesn't talk
it just mirrors my every step
like for like, step for step
rhythm in absolute synch

when i smile, it frowns
when i cry, it laughs
we are melodies in conflict
travellers on opposing paths

my shadow has started to become me
as i drift in and out of reality
every day i become less solid
and when i look in the mirror
i see more and more of me
from the inside out

my shadow and i
my shadow and me

we have started drifting apart

I kneel before darkness

2006-07-13T22:52:00.000+02:00

Definition of self is fluid
A meandering thought
A wisp of smoke
A drop of water snaking down the window

Moments of clarity are static
A wall to be climbed over
A fire to be extinguished
A madness that needs a cure

I am no longer exact
I no longer seek a response to my cries
I lose my voice
And regain it in moments of silence
My tongue rests while my mind works

Please hold my hand
Console me with triviality
Distract me with pettiness
Speak of nothing meaningful
Help me rest easy
Show me that the purpose of living
Is merely to live and experience

I am tired of purpose and hope and dreams and future and utopia
I crave them not
I seek the chaos of insanity
I wish to return to childhood
To rediscover the beauty of colour
The laughter in sound
I wish to touch the sky with every smile

Make it all new again
Please Mother, make it all new again

Isn't a butterfly just a caterpillar with a new suit?

2006-07-12T22:41:00.000+02:00

my bones crack
under the weight
of my thoughts
my back twists unnaturally
crying silently

i feel like a butterfly
eternally trapped in its coccoon
with only the wind's singing for company
the voices in my head have taken extended leave
multiple moments in silence
have started to scare me
i never realised
how much i need internal company
and now i'm alone

indefinable
inconsolable
caught in a self-fulfilling bubble
no matter how high we rise
i go lower and lower

i have decided that
in my next life
i shall be nothing
consistently

blades of insanity

2006-07-10T22:04:00.000+02:00

what kind of man
dances on the razor's edge
suckling madness from mother earth's nipples
birthing destruction in the name of brighter tomorrow's

at birth the body starts to degenerate
it crumbles at a handicapped snail's pace
and we think ourselves superhuman
the fraility of humanity is an inevitability
we remain blind to
we are submerged in a waterless atlantis
with an awful monkey on our backs
scratching, pointing, snarling
weighing us down

I have lost my way

Cry

2006-07-09T22:34:00.000+02:00

We cry acid rain
Burn streaks of pain into our cheeks
They run down our face
Drip and sizzle into puddles
And carve potholes into the earth

We forget our suffering
Forget the blood we bleed
Forget that experience is the flame that defines us
Forget that we are our successes
And our weaknesses

We carve the future from the past
We do not dwell but build
We do not wallow but rise
That is the beauty of humanity
But let us learn from history
Let us change the weavings in life
And actually learn from history

I am spirit

2006-07-06T20:48:00.000+02:00

I overstand
Means I see more than you see
I have reached my highest state
Wait for the gatekeeper to open the gate
Your time may come
Before your last breath is done
I have moved beyond this realm
I am a spirit floating through hell
Master and commander of my own destiny
Look in the mirror and admit it
You just can't see me
I am Ellison's invisible man
And while that may not have been the plan
I embrace my metamorphosis
Seven years of bad luck less the one where I am unseen leaves six
Change shall come
Revolution shall come
We shall all see zion
Through the eyes of our great grandchildren
I no longer seek utopia in this world
It exists only when I close my eyes
And, for a moment, the voices are silent
I do not resent them
They keep me company
Often seeing what I don't see
Let it be and imagine all the people
Crawling over each other
When heaven runs out of space
Give thanks to the ancestors
And contact grace
I'm told that's what we do before we eat
I don't eat meat anymore
I'm told it's fashionable
And I will live longer
But what if I want to leave
And am terrified of suicide
Hahahahahahahahahaha

Darkness whispers word

2006-07-05T20:28:00.000+02:00

She whispers to me
Suspended in a purgatory
She doesn't understand
She dreams of leaving
Without knowing where to go

She whispers to me
Her form reflected
On the inside of my eyes
Her scent tastes like orange
Her laughter, though rare, a melody to dance to

She whispers daggers
They slice my eardrums
Carve space between my teeth
The hairs on my tongue rise
Prickle the roof of my mouth
I choke on mothballs and words

She whispers to me
I have no answers
No ancient wisdom
No one-size-fits-all
No reason behind the reason
Just me and her
Whispering to me