Verbs, Adverbs and Proverbs

If I had a way with words I'd be a writer, an author or a novelist; what's the difference?
But I'd need an imagination too I guess
I'd let my words chase my ideas or is it the other way around?
I can't be too sure
I'd let my fingers do that little keyboard dance; type, erase, delete and backspace
Watch the story come to life
Maybe my own, maybe someone else's
Told in real time
Or an incoherent collection of memeories so fuzzy I gotta fill in the blanks
I'd laugh at my own jokes too as I typed
Then I'd promptly delete them cos they're not so funny anyway
Trust me, you had to be there
I'd welcome that insomnia though
You know the one
You've got work in the morning so you slide under the blankets
Then your brain forms a rhyme or two
And you think up anothor one
Commit it to memory so you can write it down tomorrow
But you get out of bed anyway cos you know you'll forget
Now you can't sleep but you can't finish the story anyway
Cos all you've got is a disjointed paragraph that makes no sense
Why did I get out of bed again?
You took too long now the story's all gone
Whatever you wrote down is all wrong anyway
So you delete, erase and backspace
Empty page, blank slate

That's why I'm not a writer. Or an author. Or a novelist
What's the difference?

Untitled by Checkmate and Lifesmith

Whilst my feminine side blushes…
Rounded flesh, carved skin
Thighs to wet with kisses dried
Smooth coco-butter skin
Soft as velvet, I won’t forget
Fingers find openings
Closed gaps desired more

This is the night of man and woman
Finding frolic on mountainous bosoms
Hiding in the dark of alleys
Fingers making tongue jealous
Tongue makes man’s inner brew
Sensing more than tasting
Tasting more than feeling
Feeling this drunken desire
Staggering in the emotion stirred
By two souls conjoined under the African moon
Swaying together in a primitive lycanthropic dance

Kisses lose meaning
Breasts melt
Welcoming pending eruption
Violent is the love we make
And our bodies tremble as we lose control
With no sense of inhibition

True black,
Becomes shiny as we explode
Bathing our thighs in us
A story to wound even the most abstract thoughts of despair
Our drunken tour ends
Only to begin again
As we drown in a river of lust
And bask in the glory of infatuation
Hands cover thighs tracing skin
With a grip meant to suffocate
Die in our love,
Be reborn at the end of our pleasures
Reliving this fantasy
And escaping reality
Welcome to my world

Blank Pages and No Ink

I trail an inkless pen across fading paper
Hoping for a flood of inspired creativity
I keep my window open, waiting for a gale
Darting eyes to the phone, perhaps the words will call
Or the roof caves in and a line or two will fall
I’ve got my stereo turned down so Beethoven whispers in my ear
But the violin remains cold and the piano will not fold
His rusty cello strings laugh at my frustration
The synchronized orchestra a welcome intrusion
It’s last call at the café and the barista grows impatient
But I’ll sit here resilient because I know that it will come to me
Of this I’m confident

Quixotic Demons

Unclear horizons fade into slippery slopes
Where feathery clouds kiss unknown depths
Once beautiful and fragrant roses
Now baring vulgar thorns,
Stinging nettles tearing at raw flesh
That beating heart, that loud thumping drum
With its awful, woeful rhythm
Don’t slip into its trance
Don’t lose your wings, dear flightless bird
Those wings that flap lifelessly
Drained of all colour, devoid of all strength
A sign of lost glory, more of a burden now
One wish come true, the rest a transparent hope
Of a phoenix rising from ashen emptiness
But it’s not a guarantee, closer to a prayer
Knees scarred with callouses are
A constant reminder of accusing pasts
Spiralling forth into a convicted future
But the chaos is welcome
And the confusion is home
There’s no redemption for the damned

Poet's Passport

Of love for words;
Superfluously ingenious creativity
Intrinsically inspired,
Just a flow of emotion
Oft times a trickle
Sometimes an eruption
Pause…

An eraser perhaps
A new beginning
Non-existent worlds
And unfulfilled dreams
The pleasure of imagination
The lack of a destination
Just a simple outlet
Harmless from the onset
Exhale…

Blank pages and black ink
No need for an audience
It’s not a search for respect
Just Meaningless ramblings
The musings of a madman
But hey
I’ve got my poet’s passport
Relax…

Amnesiac

We become such a caricature of our former selves
When we are so detached from reality
Still sober as a judge, even twice as corrupt
But we lose our innocence
And misplace our conscience
A slow transition into oblivion
Where we conform to society
And lose our identity
Walk straight off the factory line with
Our labels intact…do not hand wash
Now identical entities,
Spitting images of each other
Just for a moment forgetting
Our weaknesses, wickedness and ineptitude
Temporary amnesia,
I’ll get back to you in a minute…

Illogical Conscious

Plastic smiles, worse than a botox injection
Precede that semi hug, just enough to disarm…
And it works like a charm
Spilling emotions and staining my floor
Damn, I’m gonna have to wax that again

Your heart so cold, like
Frozen glaciers and ice cubes
Such a distant demeanour
That forbidden ambiguous attraction
Cloudy with a chance of fornication…
Forecasting regret and disgust
But I’ll still return for another round
I want you, I want you not…I want you gone

The Academy Of Dreaming

I want to be allowed to dream
To lay down in my own imagination
And build a life for me there
I need to be set free
To roam about in my own subconscious
To see a world beyond this reality
That has me subdued and stagnant
Even if just for a minute
Run wild in a world of made up names
And non-existent games
See talking cars and bikes and blimps
And upside-down buildings floating in the sea
But I’m stuck in this reality
Which with all its magnificent beauty
Is still a tad insufficient
Yet even with my head on my pillow
I yearn my escape to freedom
To a world that only I can dream of
How I so wish I hadn’t forgotten to dream.

The Silence of the Sky

This house feels so empty, maybe too large even
Not a home anymore, not a place for family
Those soft echoes…almost too soft to hear
Yet just loud enough so we can’t ignore
Of silent whispers in the walls
And old reflections trapped in the mirrors
A subtle reminder of what was once here
Of who was once here
Babies running around the yard
To the ghastly soundtrack of your old lawnmower
The whole heartedness of our bond
That I was so fast to take for granted
Yet now I can’t, for the life of me
Ignore your penetrating absence
The constant chatter that drove me up the wall
Would now be a symphony to my ears
But there are no babies in the yard anymore
And there’s no you out in the lawn anymore
Just empty rooms and nostalgic pictures
And the lingering loss that will not fade

Blade In The Door

Broken hearts and crushed souls
Lost tears and wishful thinking
So much time spent wishing, missing,
Wondering how and when we got so cold
How we missed the signs
And kept on pushing
A love gone sour
Two souls gone cold and unfeeling
I hurt you and you hurt me
And we walked away two broken people

Selfish

How do I stay and wipe your tears
When I know that they shed for me?
How do I embrace you in my arms
When I know it’s me your heart bleeds for?
That it’s my feet under which your soul was crushed?
But was it so selfish of me
To walk out of a love so sincere
To punish you for daring to love me
And reject a commitment so divine
When all I felt was emptiness
And all I saw was misery
Was it so selfish of me not to reciprocate?
Was it so selfish of me
To put myself first?

Revolutionary Verisimilitude

I see hatred and bigotry masquerading as opinion
I see voiceless people yearning for dominion
Even if it be sour as an onion
Figurative rape by politics, business and religion
The brave ones confined to the recesses of mere thought
Ignorance and pride hiding in plain sight
They've had their women stripped naked and their dignity erased
And their men no different, disillusioned, even more so

I see a people not so much tired as exhausted
But does our anger suffice to redeem our devotion?
To set in place our plans and our unspoken mission?
Put aside our regrets and get our thoughts in motion?
And no, this is not about your personal political notions
This is about what we stand for, what we believe in
What makes us so human
Even you, with your heart two sizes too small

I don’t want to go back to the simpler times
When bread was cheap and water was free
I want to move forward to a time when we can be
When success and savvy’s for you and me
If tomorrow comes and I don’t need to explain myself
And I’m free to express myself
Then I shall know that we were tired
That we were exhausted
And our anger was sufficient

Lyrics of The Heart

The dawn is breaking, a light shining through
I’ve been up all night, staring at you
See, I love this place
But you never said that it would be this hard
I take a picture of this perfect place
And memories consume, like opening the wound
I know I can’t take one more step toward you
Because easy come easy go, that’s just how you live
Still, I’m so glad you made time to see me
While heaven bent to take my hand and lead me through the fire
Because when you love someone they become your life
So let me hold you for the last time
Cos though forever can never be long enough for me
I’ve stayed in one place for too long


(Collide, Paperweight, Little House, Call Your Name, All The Right Reasons, Breaking the Habit,
Jar of Hearts, Grenade, Back to December, Fallen, Butterfly, Broken Strings, Marry Me, Brand New Day)

Eye Witness Testimony

First of all, let me clarify
That I swear to speak the truth
The whole truth and nothing but the truth
So help me God
See, you may not think so
But even a girl like her had her morals
Dollars and pounds may not buy love
But she never once said love was what she sought
And she sure as hell bought her way into a lot of beds
I’d discuss it at length if the court cared
But time escapes me

See, the neighbours, they said she had daddy issues
She said she just needed to express herself
At a time when words seemed insufficient
The decrepit desire coursing through her veins
Igniting a fire that could only be extinguished
By what she believed at the time
To be feisty feministic freedom
And boy, was she feisty

Of course I remember her well
I remember her like I read it in a book
Right down to her luscious lustful lips that lulled men to sleep
Ignorant, naïve and young she may have been
So vivacious yet filled with venomous vanity
Thinly veiled as valour
She spewed hatred and anger
Hatred for herself, hatred for him, hatred for them

Why for them? Isn’t it obvious and clear?
See the world just sat there
Watched her broken and defeated
Though no one wrapped their fingers round her throat
Or stuck a knife in her gut
They just stood there spectating and speculating
Suspicious whispers floating in the air
Always talking behind her back
Never walking up to her face

Now, they would’ve said something
They should’ve said something
But they feared that if they stood up to her
They’d be looking in the mirror
They were terrified by the thought
Of what would be staring back at them
And in their selfish pride a part of her died
Subdued by the reluctance to abide

Then again, truth be told at the time she seemed cool
Of fancy rainbow colours and designer colognes
Might I even say a small part of me looked up to her
And maybe in a way I still do
But hush; let’s just keep that between us
For the record, that is not a tinge of envy

I apologize, I didn’t mean to generalize
They weren’t all so arrogant
Some of them did tell her to slow down
They did speak up but all she heard was a hiccup
They asked her to have a little self-respect
And in her defence she opined
That virginity is not purity, dignity or integrity
Rather lack of opportunity
In my opinion you ask?
Your honour, at this point
If it please the court I’d prefer to plead the fifth
And step down from the witness stand.

Silken Sparks

The ritualistic tango
A mating dance as old as time
Two souls as one
Body and mind meeting
In a moment never fleeting
When words become insufficient
Replaced by the touch of your fingers
The soft whispering caress
Of your lips on my skin
The tune of a Spanish guitar in the background
Or could that just be in my head?
Emotions exploding in the silence
As we express what so many have written about
Talked about, dreamed about even
But only so few
Have managed to set eyes on it
And less yet, had it in their grasp

Few could grasp for what we share is beyond the physical
My mental will tell you so
For countless times my lips found envy
As my eyes caress your dark hue ever so gently
The dance is not to be forgotten without cause to remind
Silently i declare you shall yet be mine
So if through poking the dance shall come to be
Then more should be expected from me

Then maybe I’ll let the silence linger
I won't say a word for fear that if i speak
The moment shall be lost
And this flutter in my heart
Shall become but a murmur
And the tremor in my legs
A reminder of what could have been
Let our souls sing that song
That only you and i can here
soft sensual lyrics that only the lovers' ear embraces

Then let's my love,
Live in that single moment,
Where the music shall play forever,
Fingers shall not lose touch...
Like a painting framed,
We shall dance for eternity...
Fear not of speech, my little bird,
Sing, if you must, every word.
Serenade our love with music & care,
Not of the world that stares,
I vow, my touch shall hide you from such glare.
So be still and breathe,
And live in this, our moment.

Then with your touch so splendid and candid
I’ll throw all caution to the wind
More than words could say
A velvet embrace if i may
To be so close, to feel so lost
And yet never feeling more found
A mesmerizing catharsis
And a soul clenching eclipse
Deftly devouring all inhibition
Inviting an exhilarating release
A rainbow of passion washing through my veins
The kind of passion that only you could evoke...

collaboration by Anonymouspoet1 and Checkmate

The Hardest Thing

With a smile on my face and that brave glow in my eyes
I cry and sob albeit quietly and silently
Those silent tears that only I can hear
That crushing sorrow that only the mirror can see
I don’t want you to see my despair
Nor would I want you to notice my dismay
For your sake I will shed my tears behind closed doors
For though I am filled with anxiety and scared to the bone
My pride for you reigns supreme over panic
So that when it’s finally time to watch you walk away
I will do so with my head high
And joyous peals of laughter
I will not allow tomorrow’s unknown to steal
Yesterday’s beatitudes
For I do not know whether the future holds we
Or if the crystal ball sees only me
But I know that I will not shut the door
And the closing chapter for this will not be written just yet
Just because the days will pass and life will go on by
And I will not see you as I would wish to
I will not erase the memories or ignore the next possibilities
Instead I will let the things that I am certain of decide tomorrow
I am certain that I know you,
I am certain that I cherish you
And I am certain that I love you

Obscure Shadow

The rain drowns the solitary teardrop
And with that it drowns the hate
The sorrow, the despair and regret
An erosion of all that was human in me
Leaving behind an unveiled void
A soulless smile and a heartless mirth
And I am left unremorseful and unfeeling
Simply an obscure shadow from the past

Lonely Ice

The sound of a thousand silences
Rings deafeningly in my ears
A sense of pride and self-loathing
Fills my heart
Overwhelming emotion sits in the horizon
Just close enough for me to want it
But far enough to evade my tenuous grasp

I can’t help but wallow in my loneliness
Strongly yearning the company of another
Wishing to hear a voice other than my own
Longing for the gentle feel of another’s skin

But this volatile fear will not let me
Genuine, tangible revulsion of the unknown
I’m terrified of letting anyone in
Exposing my vulnerability
Tearing open my honesty
To an unexpected show of hostility
Or worse still, pathetic, perverse pity

Why Do I Write Poetry?

I don’t write poetry
I live it, I dream it, I speak it
I think it, I see it, I feel it
I feel it in the rhythm of my pen against paper
In the strokes of my keyboard
An imaginary accord
In my choice of rhyme scheme
And if I added a hip-hop beat to it
Do you think it would be complete?

I see it in the fluid motion of the dancer’s feet
That moment when we lose ourselves in the heat
When we see with our souls
And feel with our hearts
An exotic encounter of seemingly mindless banter
When you can wander in a discordant crowd
And still see order and calm
For if a picture can say a thousand words
Allow me to say a thousand more

In my poetry, I’m never right
Then again, I’m never wrong either
It matters not if it’s north or south
And nothing about it is uncouth
Nothing defined, nothing defiled
I don’t have to think twice
Because there’s no one to revise my verse
Hold that thought
Can I say it in reverse?
It’s pure unadulterated design
A precipitation of my own creation
A proliferation of my emotions
Delight, disappointment, disgrace, despair

It’s here that I am me
I am completely free to be
I know who I am, I realize where I stand
And reconcile my naivety
In this place I can say what I feel
And feel what I say

I can build my dreams, I can tear them down
I can imagine and I can drown
Deep breaths drawn and held in
Then slowly exhaled
I have total control but still manage to lose myself
No inhibitions, just endless priceless exhibitions
It’s not about what he said, what she read
Or what they did
It’s candid, it’s lucid
It’s about me in all my honesty

Undisguised

As I stand, torn and broken
Naked and exposed
My most intimate out
For all the world to see
A darkened past brought out
And buried secrets exhumed
The sun fades into the shadows
And the rain turns to acid
My most precious burned to ash
Prized possessions turned to rust

Shall I feel fear?
Or wonder in amazement?
Vestiges of fiery rage
Set alight in the abyss
Snake up my vents
And implode in my heart
Now an empty pit of nothingness
Craving for loss and regret

A gaunt face stares back at me
Sunken eyes against a backdrop
Of sullen cheeks, tight lips
Holding back the words of my freedom
I stand handcuffed to a mirror
Forced to look back at the horror
That disgusting reflection
That hides behind lipstick and mascara
Once more rears its ugly head
When the golden threads are stripped down