Saturday

Unforgiving

They say the

Cancel flick

Is Cultural

 

No space for

Mistakes now

 

Wrong glance

Word spew

Harsh tone

 

And its tickets




Poetry Blog Rankings

Monday

Thursday

Melt down


mind the cracks

tread carefully

so necks don’t snap

 

in it for the money baby

that monthly paycheck

 

treading water

sinking slide

 

gulps of salty

corporate slime

keep on trucking

dead and empty

 

façade slips

confidence

drips

 

bend

over

nicely


I was told

We are not a family

that speaks about things

always fine

we step over

the cracks

fake the

smiles

and

quietly

cry



Saturday

LOSS


Sending you
my whole
heart
all of it
every drop

to soak
the devastation
the agony
of 
loss

Thursday

Last night


that plastic container
with itsy white ones
called my name

popped one
then another

thought about
a fist full
a slam dunk

In that numb
hazed out space again

where terminating
entices

Wednesday

Uhm nothing inside


life in horizontal
pavement down

traipsing
purposeful
manicured feet
nick and shove
as they strut by

but this black dog
is frozen

struck
face
down

On bergie day

Don’t mean to be
ungrateful
when around me
thousands
sleep in the rain
collect meals
from dustbins

So many
outstretched
hands

So many
clenched
fists
coated in gold

Friday

Yearn for

intimate
interaction
cause adults
don’t speak
about
the real things

keep things
surface
…the weather’s safe
…stock-market
pleasures

pump out
successes
achievements
showy banter
shiny noise

as meaningful as
…traffic

Thursday

FROZEN


how to be more
and not so small
when the core
is a crumble

and the world
cordons off  
leaky people

embracing only
the ball breaking
cat -walkers
 
the washed out
submerged in
damp corners

and doors slam
forcing rearward
desperate steps

 

Friday

My father

died
peacefully
I will take no
other accounts
for I have seen
the wreckage of
slow death, and
in comparison
his ending
was near
perfect
one moment
drawn breath
smooth as silk
a thread of time
from life to
last breath
as beautiful
a death,
as lives
are written
about
 

Safety Net

head
against
your chest
just for a
moment
safely
ensconced
packed away
in your arms

In the beginning

there is no
flowery creator
proclaimed
maker of
humanity’s mistakes
no guiding light
forcing hands
making plans
rather
we’re a solitary
random blunder
a big bang
synapse of
molecules
with zero
purpose
equating
nothing

Tuesday

A is for

Shame on
that community
playing watchdog
dragging down-
syndrome young
girl from her bed
left jailed alone
as her parents flee
anticipating
mob trial
for singed papers
the burnt
offerings
of religious
charbroiled
words



Sunday

In Death We Unite


In a heartbeat
the mundane
humdrum
rumble, jungle
we call our lives
bursts open
and it’s time to put
the dead to bed

 At the gravesite
sombre stroll passed
so many rows of stones
someone’s Solly
Hymie or Polly
A Kaplinksly, Rabinsky
or Moshe Manisnsky

A plane sweeps above
glides through
the misty day
and moments
slow down
surreal
words on display
Soil tossed
and shovels
laid down
face first









Friday

The Blues

when your
grasp on life is slowing
No confidence
No growing
the walls a crumble
the office a jungle
take a deep breathe
and ward off slow death
with anything sweet
a thought, a small treat
the tiniest of smiles
and a note to your head
that the people you love
are the real
stuff of life



Tuesday

Enjoy

Your life
blow away
sorrow thoughts
ugly bile
terror trials

On a taxi
innocent ladies face
is covered with acid
by gang initiators
who flee

In Bruma lake
bodies float
to the surface
with the marks
of a serial killer

In North Africa
Gadaffi dictates
in the South
Mugabe
mutilates

Blow all those
thoughts away
the stoning of Soraya
the rape of six month old
baby Tshepang

For today the
sun is shinning
and for billions life carries
on oblivious

http://www.google.com/

Friday

Craquelure

when
the facade slips
beware the
wolves licked lips
sure time
for a calculated
trip

Lie still

no energy
to chase
flies from
mommy’s face

her eyes
glass hollows
gaze at me
with love

enough to
fill my heart
and feed air into
my swollen belly

and flies feast
off mommy's face
and her eyes
are still mine

for a while
until blackened
buzzing
covers her lids






On the Fritz

knew a girl
born out of era
was it god
or evolutions error

She didn't blend
with the pace
of the human race

so she opted out
and took last place

Tuesday

Carcass of an Atheist

At the gym reed thin blonde girl
treads and steps,
pounding anorexic bones
gaunt eyes on CNN

It’s babies today
from deep dark Africa
rope arms not to carry
or wrap around
legs not for walking

Hollowed faces
marble stares
born to starve
too die in pain,
like Jesus did.

Monday

Mamihlapinatapai



Unrequited desire
momentarily melodious
through shared dual mellifluous gaze
mutual yearn, burn, covet, crave
desiring instigate from other
left deflated...uninitiated







Tuesday

The Bed

Oh to lie
with you
in that bed
from the 80’s

arms thread
through
wrought iron
platted twirls

bodies
entwined
silky moans
honey sighs
spread across that
big baroque bed








Finger Dance

Did I dream you last night
or was it you that led me
to the room next door
smoky and dense
thick tongue
rich red

filled my mouth
hot and moist
we fell into eachother
Arms at my sides
too weakened
to hold you

FaintingFlyingFloating away
Drenched in bliss





Wednesday

Press Play

been on pause
stuck in a lacuna
a debris space

while
Zimbabwean man
is flung from
Xenophobic train

Ego matters of
slow magnitude
midst a world
bleeding

Time to
smile outward
lock fingers
with brothersothers







New bride

Tortoise and the hare
Thought I was safe from
the sun’s cancerous glare
dared to shade my eyes
blot out rose tinted rays
So the sun deserted
leaving warmth
to a shiny new heir.

Peer Pressure

Fallen behind
the crowd
Mid-age slump
crawl and groan
off miniature throne
Not that much
Any more

Face in the Mirror

Graceful evolution
from butterfly to slug
Joplin hair, wild abush
eyes dragooned red,
puffy and dead

Will survive yet again,
another heightened day
Even the dread days
are better than dead days
of which there are plenty

Thursday

Lonely Life

People
bump people
fromallsides

skating ants
we glide at near miss

smileandgreet
deadpan
socialisewithdrink
monotone

words
more
guardedbanter
empty

lonelylife
even for a
motherwife

http://www.facebook.com/ajax/flash/expand_inline.php?v=232812053503268&target_div=uiudr_92&playertype=permalink&max_width=403&max_height=403&context=timelineSingle

Tuesday

Africa in not my land

Head on clash
Voices smash
Shriek on shriek
Phone goes crash

Dash home for
face-on-face
confront
with domestic

Try and
calm her
but she seems
possessed

“Don’t touch me”
she spits
eyeballs
like pellets

Let’s sit

We speak
her words
mutate

I’m wrong
She’s right
She’s black
I’m white

Thursday

Milton Pool

Breathing into a bag,
boy on a beach masturbates,
glue fumes sucked deeply.

Small space away, toddler squeals
Telly tubby swimsuit stained
with chocolate ice-lolly.

On guard,
mother watches

legs spread,
cock in hand,
still pumping,

broken only
by concave
inhaled plastic.

“It’s cold” shrieks the toddler

“Some spare change madam?”

Why does your friend have to
masturbate on the beach?

“I know I tell him”

I’ll give you money when I go,
but only if you leave us alone.

Life Begins At

four times ten
or
ten times four

No matter
the adding
Ain’t
young any more

That forty thing
The half way
Ping

Got a definite tempo
A fear rising
Sting

Turn the beast
on its head

It sure is
better in bed

Still
     Slipping,
               Slipping,

Sipping away

at the options
still
open

the
dreams
still to
grow

Wednesday

THE MD

Are the surest externally

All threadbare internally?

It might not seem

But Im a timid thing

Holding a weighty life

Which I have chosen

Empties

Society crafted a happy little solution

to make our stay more tolerable -

I bought into it

but now Im heavy

Im returning my purchase





Tuesday

In Your Arms

             Saw a tree today

  with arms as wide as the universe

             and stilts to hold

            the weight of them

Monday

LACUNA

I’m free now
but not free enough
to know
what to do with myself.

Not Another Blogging Poet

I am a poet who has found a platform. Constructed a gallary space to house my work.  I am grateful to any reader who visits...to all that engage with my words.  Feel free to comment.  Criticism is very welcome!