the hopeless romantic

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your heart..stitched and bandaged up

put up for rent once more

a barely functioning box,with walls thin

from years of wear and tear

a shell of your former self

no sense of self,for you have become a chameleon

changing to fit whomever is in your arm

it is called compromising,you argue

it is the basis of a relationship,so you say

eyes shining with hope,you endure torture

for you have to kiss frogs before your prince

the small,flying man will shoot his arrow

you still believe in happily ever after

riding off into the sunset with your handsome fellow

rolling my eyes,as you describe yet another Prince Charming

my pearls of wisdom are forever discarded

what do I know about love?you sigh,shaking your head

I’m just a barely functioning alcoholic,

married to the bottle,forever scribbling away

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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greatness due

that fleeting feeling,those moments

when mount Everest seems like an anthill

a conqueror, seeking thrill

those glorious moments

now they are as scarce as rain on a desert

a mere existence

like a grain of sand

carried to and fro,never settled

for each moment spent longer in a place

seems like eternity,damnation of mediocrity

of simply being

when you know you are destined for the stars

even when you triumph to a thunderous applause

for feats you don’t  even break a sweat for

there is always that gnawing feeling

eating away any sense of pride or contentment

for deep down,you know you are legendary

capable of greatness beyond the scope

 

my old girl

grandmother lifts her head up,eyes scanning the horizon

reading the heavens,for signs of abundant blessings

pula! we all shout when happy,for rain brings life

golden memories of a life worth living,imprinted on her face

years of hard labour,a lioness providing for her pride

cultivating a plentiful garden,on patches of barren land

 

wrinkles,telling of summers and winters past,years of turmoil and serenity

yet there is a youthful aura about her,playful and inquisitive

she still dances to the rhythm of the drums,tapping her inner goddess

diamonds,buried beneath heaps of the Kalahari desert,dance in her eyes

sparks of a fire burning ever so brightly flying into the wind

 

sipping the traditional beer,which she masterfully brews

infusing the soul Africa,a recipe as old as time,fermented to perfection

she will tell you stories,not just about the deceitful hare and greedy hyena

her face lights up when she talks about the infant Botswana

taking  uncertain few steps,as Great Britain looked on with bated breath

stories of hardships and  triumph, the birth of a nation

 

there will come a time,when she departs from this world

she looks forward to that time,with anticipation

it is not death,merely a continuation of the circle of life

she will be crossing over,to rejoin her ancestors

looking over us as always,keeping companion on dark nights

it wont be a funeral,but a celebration of greatness

and I will for the first time believe in guardian angels 

 

 

 

 

 

Composure

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I have learnt,these 22 years on earth

smile where appropriate,jubilation due

Its societal obligation,taxation for oxygen wasted

My dues,for “blessings”

for others have it worse

learning to tame the dragon

you say dragons are mythical creatures

yet I live with the beast,depressed,maniac 

wrestling on a daily basis,where is my knighthood?

though I feel I have won sometimes

the unicorn,anxiety frowns in disapproval

“really bitch?”she smirks

red-faced cause of the language

apologising for things I didn’t do

it’s all in my head,for you never notice

I do a pretty good job

of hiding Narnia,from you all

Stolen moments

 

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unable to tear herself away

held captive by desires of the flesh

he is a complex equation to be solved

a reward of pure lust

to indulge,let go of all senses

give her soul to earthly desires,devil’s best friend

queen for a moment

the crown of Jezebel

fitting for a maiden with morals flung to the wind

drunk with desire,lust

fingers covered with honey

sticky with self loathing

the gown of anxiety discarded to the attic

buried beneath shame and regret

she knows it’s not love,he is not him

yet he yields so much power over her body

her resolution as shattered as her vows

 

 

afraid of the dark

 

dark

two o’clock in the morning

staring into the darkness

insomnia gently caresses me,teasing

like a playful lover in the moonlight

the darkness shape shifts into blurry figures

dissolving and reforming under my weary eyes

monsters clawing,with bloodshot eyes,glowing menacingly

shadows embrace,like friends long lost to each other

the walls alive with pictures of a black and white film

a spooky Halloween special

a lifetime ago I used to be scared,helpless

praying fervently,cloaked in faith and trust

clinging to a image of light,to keep the darkness at bay

mama said I had an over active mind

painting the innocent night with shade of spooky

I have since learned,there is nothing to fear

till you switch on the light

 

Perfect

they snicker,stare at us,condescending

we ain’t perfect,two rough stones

in a sea of pearls

maybe we never we meant to be conventional

no fairy-tales,star-studded crowns or kingdoms

you the ogre,and I the ugly,sinister witch..

perfect match

you never liked people,never have I

lets indulge ourselves in our dungeon

spider webs strung from the ceiling

beautiful,intricate as our love

let’s be merry in our crooked world

embrace the darkness,

so many shades of perfection

in tune with the universe

one with nature

redefine beauty and love