Plein Street Verses VI: Not at easy

Scratch my back
If you see me bowed
broken by my ambitions
all i wanted was to exhale
breath out my essence
immortalize my truest nature

but i hear gasps of despair
shadows of discomfort clouding in
my soul wrestling my composure
I find no rhythm in my beat

Plein Street Verses V : Over

Why does it hurt so bad?
when its all i ever wanted
late at night i could not sleep
praying you vanish with the night
and fly out of my life
and wash away with my dreams

But when its all silent
and nothing but my heartbeat
is felt through the calm night
i recall the sweetness i miss
the loveliness of your presence

Plein Street Verses IV : Shadows

Shadows, they don't stop
following me around
i stop, they stop
i sit, they sit
Shadows, more than i can
lead me down my demise

Plein Street Verses III: Hopeless

When one day,I
cannot go on
I hope i stop
and Fall
for the same reason
that kept me going

Plein Street Verses II: (To Moses "Happy" Letlapa)

Happy, where is my scorpion?
I lost my grenades
Now they say i am bitter
But i did it;
and nothing more can be said
but your word in Mangaung
The Lady Grey police station
is not without a stint of disgrace
Pat Steve and Velile's shoulders
and when i come to Azania
spare me not the tales of liberation

Plein Street Verses I: (Untitled)

When sorrows strikes like thunder
I wonder if i go under
Haunted by silly nightmares
falling down depths unknown
exploring the essence of self-destruction

I quiz the laws of nature
wondering if i live on
beyond my poetic lines
beyond the mind that ponders my essence

Do i live or die?
when faced with darkness
Collapsing in the prison of thought
for i see an empty heart
no one stops to fill it with love
and on its dryness i cry
for when love is no more
so is the will to fly
beyond reason

Childhood tales

I love
to sit like i did in childhood
play with the silent mud
talking to dejected bricks

I love
to look at mountains
See them kiss the sky above
with heartfelt tenderness

I love
to watch the swallows  gather
and sing tunes never heard
except in such solidarity

I love
the hops and skips of butterflies
through our misty valley
treating us to a spring touch

I love
to share a kiss with frogs
and soak in earthly worms
without a streak of fear

Locked out

when a cold winter breeze gathers
a legion of pitch dark clouds
like nestling we rush for warmth
yet another lingers in solitude
at the mercy of these ugly streets
and the starless dark night

His eyes stare out
to a far glimpse of light
and though stuck in despair
find warmth in childhood memories
before miseries became reality

Kids rushed like sparrows
build an army around the fire
and fight the cold with brevity
but kids are no more
for a soul is now stuck in solitude
displaced from the rhythm of time
 

Fear

I am afraid of the unseen
The unheard creapy things
That find way to my soul
And distort its share of grace

I am afraid of nothing
The pain that runs unfelt
Till the day it cant run no more
And burst flood into your heart

I am afraid of this and that
Things you laugh about
So long as they silently find their way
into the hidden chambers of my heart

I am afraid of a traitor
That wrestle to transpire
From the very depth of my soul
Only to dehumanize my essence

I am afraid of a dream
That ceases to breath
and fade with the passing wind

The Confusion II: Apologies

what gift could suppress?
the depth of your presence in my life?
You shared with me
both wisdom and dreams

Look where i stand now
Intelligence has become an offense
to the dreams you gave me
and the beauty of your presence

I am not without emotions
for through broken perspectives
I can see the pain i caused
and the anguish in Heaven

Read like ancient masters
With a memory fluid
I conquered the barriers of learning
But where are the dreams?

I felt them slip through my fingers
in the mute pursuit of happiness
let my verses tell tales of my being

I wrote it all for my own conviction
So to be my own witness
When i account for my dreams

For the dreams that faintly cry
calling for a better world
calling for a better man

you taught me to write
with metaphors and figures
But look what it is now
a reflection of despair

my poetry is menace
nothing but an echo of despair
whether i write, what good has it been?
my lines are haunted by demons
could it be all for this?
how could it be?