In your absence I became a pale shadow of who I
once was. I feel
and watch my mind wrinkle and die.
If I could dream of you while I lay upon a rainbow
Perhaps you’d spill over from one dream onto my pillow.
But I’ve become a prisoner shackled to your absence,
Stripped of freedom, I’m a slave to my own sense
Dreaming
with a broken heart. I’ve tried to heal the
Pain, but a heart never
breaks even. I barely breathe,
When my heart wakes up to missing
you, I guess I was
Never ready for goodbye. Even if I was, I’d
hold on to us
I’d still believe in the nights we dreamed and shared
When you held my hand in sweet confidence and cared.
What do I do with the emotions that burnout after you,
I hoped in time you’d trust that my intentions are true,
But
you allowed these hopes to build up only to close in on
me. I tried to
be strong but I am trapped now that you gone.
You still are all I am every moment I look into your eyes on my wall
I guess I forgot how to live without you. A lonely tear may fall
And sounds stop for more than a moment so now I drown all my misery in alcohol
I am trapped without you my mate and my better so
Monday, June 25, 2012
DEAR WOMAN
You are a rose that budded slowly from a concrete world.
Darker might be your petals,
Because the world you come from is hard, no need to be told.
But deeper are your roots.
So unlike the rose from rosarians, you will live longer,
Your beauty shall never fade,
For your roots will always find the waters to quench your life.
So keep your head up.Don't be afraid.
Remember that thorns on a rose, like the petals,
And the scent on it,
In no way less make the beautiful essence of a rose too.
So keep your head up, you still precious.
You neither an artificial rose, because you are not man-made.
You are natural because nature is you.
Dry your eyes, don't waste the precious waters that refresh your beauty.
Remember, the little working ant seeks your shade
So keep your head up.
Darker might be your petals,
Because the world you come from is hard, no need to be told.
But deeper are your roots.
So unlike the rose from rosarians, you will live longer,
Your beauty shall never fade,
For your roots will always find the waters to quench your life.
So keep your head up.Don't be afraid.
Remember that thorns on a rose, like the petals,
And the scent on it,
In no way less make the beautiful essence of a rose too.
So keep your head up, you still precious.
You neither an artificial rose, because you are not man-made.
You are natural because nature is you.
Dry your eyes, don't waste the precious waters that refresh your beauty.
Remember, the little working ant seeks your shade
So keep your head up.
PLACE OF MY BIRTH
Mother of us all, place of my birth
She has been stripped, she has been beaten, and she has lost her worth
Her womb has been poisoned from the rape of her soul
Mother of us all, place of my birth
She has been shackled and shot down like a kitchen kaffir
If you listen you can hear her cries, bitter than ever
Mother of us all, place of my birth
Mother of us all, place of my birth
Man made myths; distorted reflections of the truth, keep her isolation
Her seeds have scattered violently in winds of desperation
Mother of us all, place of my birth
Cursed form the semen, conceived without a future or a tomorrow
We all bear witness as she nurtures a cradle of sorrow
Mother of us all, place of my birth
Mother of us all, place of my birth
How can we stand aside and witness while she bathes in shame
Some robbed her of her beauty, some say she is beyond redemption
Mother of us all, place of my birth
She has been stripped, she has been beaten, and she has lost her worth
Her womb has been poisoned from the rape of her soul
Mother of us all, place of my birth
She has been shackled and shot down like a kitchen kaffir
If you listen you can hear her cries, bitter than ever
Mother of us all, place of my birth
Mother of us all, place of my birth
Man made myths; distorted reflections of the truth, keep her isolation
Her seeds have scattered violently in winds of desperation
Mother of us all, place of my birth
Cursed form the semen, conceived without a future or a tomorrow
We all bear witness as she nurtures a cradle of sorrow
Mother of us all, place of my birth
Mother of us all, place of my birth
How can we stand aside and witness while she bathes in shame
Some robbed her of her beauty, some say she is beyond redemption
Mother of us all, place of my birth
KINGS OF SORROW
Our Christmas never sings any carols,
Birthdays now the worst days never blow any candles,
Nothing seems to grow besides the anger,
Hard times quickly turn a family member into a stranger,
Love is scarce like money, for too many souls are poor at heart,
Scavenging for the ‘green paper’ willing to watch families fall apart,
Who do we run too? We are just Kings of sorrow,
Uncertainties of our existence are reflected in schools,
Sponge-like bodies filled with inebriation nurture carrions of fools,
And you wonder why our grave yard never seems to have an end?,
Mother earth bleeds from disrespect and she swells into hills of sand,
For silver and gold her children are ripe for destruction,
Hypnotized by the wand of foreign currency sleep walking to destruction,
Kings of sorrow conceived without a future or a tomorrow,
The day, when he comes, is teemed with corruption and depravity,
His image on public walls a painful reminder of our captivity,
Pot-bellied man rally behind him with their semi-literate media,
The hands that crown their laurels puppet with no idea,
Military minded hovering over the youths like an evil spirit,
Their foul breath of infidelity oozing serpently from the pulpit
You call him a Black Hitler, you hypocritical Kings of sorrow.
Kings of Sorrow, Kings of Sorrow, cursed from the semen,
Born to this grave yard morass of a situation,
The pang of the cradle robber our first sensation
At the mercy of your wrath we wait, AMEN.
Birthdays now the worst days never blow any candles,
Nothing seems to grow besides the anger,
Hard times quickly turn a family member into a stranger,
Love is scarce like money, for too many souls are poor at heart,
Scavenging for the ‘green paper’ willing to watch families fall apart,
Who do we run too? We are just Kings of sorrow,
Uncertainties of our existence are reflected in schools,
Sponge-like bodies filled with inebriation nurture carrions of fools,
And you wonder why our grave yard never seems to have an end?,
Mother earth bleeds from disrespect and she swells into hills of sand,
For silver and gold her children are ripe for destruction,
Hypnotized by the wand of foreign currency sleep walking to destruction,
Kings of sorrow conceived without a future or a tomorrow,
The day, when he comes, is teemed with corruption and depravity,
His image on public walls a painful reminder of our captivity,
Pot-bellied man rally behind him with their semi-literate media,
The hands that crown their laurels puppet with no idea,
Military minded hovering over the youths like an evil spirit,
Their foul breath of infidelity oozing serpently from the pulpit
You call him a Black Hitler, you hypocritical Kings of sorrow.
Kings of Sorrow, Kings of Sorrow, cursed from the semen,
Born to this grave yard morass of a situation,
The pang of the cradle robber our first sensation
At the mercy of your wrath we wait, AMEN.
WHO WE ARE
What we dream is what we own
What we own is what we achieved
What we achieve is what we love
What we love is what we become
What we become is what we treasure
What we treasure is what we live for
What we live for is what we have
How well we have is how well we give
How well we give is how well we believe
How well we believe is how well we speak
How well we speak is how well we impart
How well impart is how well we seed
How well we seed is how well we grow
How well we grow is how well we share
When we share we learn to care
When we care we learn to forgive
When we forgive we learn to unite
When we unite we learn to build
When we build we learn to understand
When we understand we learn to love
When we love we learn to inspire
Inspiration can become our tears
Tears may become our fears
Fears may become our strengths
Strengths may become our trials
Trials may become our victories
Victories may become our testimonies
Testimonies beyond a doubt become who we are
What we own is what we achieved
What we achieve is what we love
What we love is what we become
What we become is what we treasure
What we treasure is what we live for
What we live for is what we have
How well we have is how well we give
How well we give is how well we believe
How well we believe is how well we speak
How well we speak is how well we impart
How well impart is how well we seed
How well we seed is how well we grow
How well we grow is how well we share
When we share we learn to care
When we care we learn to forgive
When we forgive we learn to unite
When we unite we learn to build
When we build we learn to understand
When we understand we learn to love
When we love we learn to inspire
Inspiration can become our tears
Tears may become our fears
Fears may become our strengths
Strengths may become our trials
Trials may become our victories
Victories may become our testimonies
Testimonies beyond a doubt become who we are
DEATH
Blessed are they who shall die from suicide
Maybe life is better on the other side,
Pour out some liquor for Adam and Eve,
Who to whom we owe the gift of death so why grieve,
Death is such a beautiful thing ask the man above,
Ask the woman whose been battered and bruised in the name of love,
Polish your pistols because I'm suicidal don't shed me no tear,
Overdose of hell while drinking liquor when I lay here,
Take a look picture a man on his last stand,
If i die tonight not a single soul would understand,
I'm sick of this psychotic society and waiting for a hero save me,
Oh well who cares perhaps God will have time to set me free ,
So I relocate to the cemetery maybe love will show up at my funeral,
How long will they mourn me? my life will just be another numeral,
Maybe life is better on the other side,
Pour out some liquor for Adam and Eve,
Who to whom we owe the gift of death so why grieve,
Death is such a beautiful thing ask the man above,
Ask the woman whose been battered and bruised in the name of love,
Polish your pistols because I'm suicidal don't shed me no tear,
Overdose of hell while drinking liquor when I lay here,
Take a look picture a man on his last stand,
If i die tonight not a single soul would understand,
I'm sick of this psychotic society and waiting for a hero save me,
Oh well who cares perhaps God will have time to set me free ,
So I relocate to the cemetery maybe love will show up at my funeral,
How long will they mourn me? my life will just be another numeral,
THE STORY OF MY LIFE
A life filled with abandonment,
A past i cannot trace the roots,
The present that is never pleasant,
A future blurred in uncertainties,
A mother i never had but lost when i was five,
A father who never cared though he was alive,
The whispers that silence my joy,
The hope that dies a still birth,
A life never certain led behind an iron curtain,
The love that i gave received the mushroom treatment,
The sweat that cooled my toil never was good enough,
The pang of isolation that nurtured a dwarf,
A home for me that never sang the psalm,
My pointless collection of body parts,
My shadow a walking contradiction,
I'm feeling lost and uprooted to those i love the most,
My desperation to belong a harrowing thought,
My emptiness that has no title,
My emotions uncertain like the end of a rifle,
I'm sold to this void and my heart fails in its cold,
I don't think i will have dignity in death,
I don't believe I've gained an identity from my birth,
I'm sorry i was never what you expected me to be,
I'm the story of a wondering bee,
May God excuse the misuse of his breath of life,
But the goad i experienced nurtured me to die by the knife,
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