The Deep ( a monologue)

Sometimes I go off into the yonder, In the shower, Rivulets sluicing down, Savannas and thick jungles, Relieving the dirty storm clouds, Of their effluvia. Sponge stopped in mid-swing over my back. “Why are we raised to live to die?” Soap suds cling to the tiles, Their gecko toes adhesive. “Do you ever imagine giving […]

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She

She, Is five foot two, Crazy about shoes, And photographs too. She, Loves cooking, The cleaning, And the killing that comes with it. She, Is a creature of intimate places, You will find her, Where the mistletoe creeps. She, Is perfect, Like a marble statue, But much more alive. She, Is here tonight, And moon […]

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Someday I’ll Forget

Someday I’ll forget, That your favourite colour is blue, That you like fish and seafood, The scent of the fresh rain. Someday I’ll forget, That you hate goat meat, You dislike getting out of bed, For the simple reason of bathing. Someday I’ll forget, I was just an option, The fall guy, The brother from […]

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My Heart Bleeds Red

Forged in industry, Striving for glory. Words of a band of railway workers sharing a common passion. A quarter century of unparalleled success, A painted knight founding an empire vast, The fabled Alexander. Forged in industry, Striving for glory, Embroidered into the hearts of fledglings, For though they fly away hard and fast, Their parentage […]

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The Poet I Never Was

Scrawling, Scrabbling down neat rows, The ink glistens, Sapphire. Always sapphire. Crawling, Descending into nought, The deep seated cravings lower me, Into the pools of thought. Always alone. Running, In the fleeting sunlight, Golden joy dancing on my skin, But at night? Gloom takes hold, Always fright. Sapphire ink, Jotting down yellow sunlight and black […]

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The Upside of Downhill

Originally posted on Poesy plus Polemics:
(Originally posted here April 2013) Image from telegraph.co.uk utter freedom time is mine I own it clock, stock and barrel time to use or abuse to ponder or squander however I damn well please shackles of schedules restraints of routines unlocked and cast off so they can be passed…

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La Semaine

French is a romantic and poetic language I appreciate. While my French is rudimentary the power of the translator cannot be understated. Please enjoy. Je suis Kosi, Je m’appelle sage et doux, Le serviteur des anciens. Je m’appelle Adzo, Je suis entraînee et zéléé, La bête noire des femmes paresseuse. Ils m’appellent Komla, La vie […]

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