Careful, Son

This is inspired by some early morning banter by friends. I tried to keep it real. Fugly Mofos, thanks!

Careful son
Don’t come at me like you mad at yo daddy
I am yo pappy
Come here son
Smoke some poppy
Lemme tell you something son
The world holds no favours
Come see conquer
Get yo own chocolate factory Willy Wonka
Give it away cos life ain’t about riches
Don’t give it away
Stay away from them bitches
Careful son
If you lay with dogs you rise with fleas
Scrub yo self and wear some fleece
A hater see you he flees
Scared of yo shadow
They freeze
Envy begets lust
Lust gonna dig you a grave like vengeance
Leave it to the Lord
No occult séance
Rest in knowledge like science
Just keep yo head down son
You don’t need nobody
Either they support or you rise alone
Yo friends ain’t yo friends if they can’t be real
Bring you in like fish on a reel
When you going wrong
If they only witchu when you get yo money
Then you need new friends
Fuck day 1
If they don’t help yo one day
Drop them on the wrong side of the one way
Get high like steam
Pushing that locomotive
They see you they go choo choo
You ain’t stopping
Cos the night train rides for the right brain
Careful son
Don’t look down on yo self
Just remember
You ain’t no god
All men must die
Valar Morghulis
Build yo castle
Raise the portcullis
Be modern
Work medieval
That means long tables and laughter throughout the night
Don’t do little and talk more
Be a giver
Ready to take somebody outta fright
Don’t do it for fame
Not riches
Do it cos it right and you loves what  you do
Not for bants or nothing else
People gonna come for you
Yes men
Oliver Twist
Leeches that wanna drink yo blood
Let them taste nothing but yo success
When they come to you
Let them talk about how you opened their minds not their breeches
Sealed the breaches
Showed them love not bitches
I love you son
I always gotchu
Stay strong
Stay bold
And when yo can’t go on no more?
Sink on your knees and pray
Rise like the sun
Be good
Be God
Be careful son

© sena frost ‘17
Father & son
Image courtesy google images


Pygmy on a Giraffe

I am a Pygmy riding a giraffe with a nose ring in the polar straits of Antarctica
Yes it's true I defecate gold
Shiny ingots filling the toilet bowl
I only do that after I have taken a sip of tea in my favourite dadesen which I use to brew my apio
Which incidentally I store in Voltic bottles labelled as "Holy Water"
You can ascertain its purity for yourself as we discuss the chaos that is today's inflated market
By the way I own an agouti which eats only lion meat
If you care to know the meat is brought in by specially trained ladybugs which do the killing and preparation l
It's strange you'd think that's absurd
Because my Inuit wife's mother's great grand cousin twice removed on his father's side lives in an igloo in the heart of the Serengeti
My house was constructed from the fermented dung of a spider in labour
I can confidently discuss the Darwinian theories of evolution as we relax in my jacuzzi built from the salivary glands of the mosquitoes that inhabit the peaks of the Everest
I am a man of the most logical things
I thus find it very insulting that you would call my notions and living conditions as far fetched and anecdotal
After all a man with a toupee is a star spangled reflection

© sena frost '17

Pygmy on a Giraffe digital art courtesy kofidagher



Have I ever told you your eyes glint when you’re hungry?

When you bite your lips and fidget nervously

It never fails to surprise me

You look like a child right before a tantrum

All cuddly and cute and all sorts of intense

A starved teddy-bear ready to ravage anything and everything in its path.


Did you know you leave flowers in your wake?

When your hand slinks in mine as we take a walk

It always begins awkwardly 

Then our hands do the thing and fit in each other


See you smiling

That’s the flower I’m talking about.


Did I tell you that you sleep like a statue?

Perfectly carved in stillness


Hewn from the wood of Father’s own likeness


Touched with the graceful tendrils of gold

A flower in a field

Swaying rhythmically

A metronome of beauty

Beautifully timed to your steady breathing.


You are so beautiful when you wake.

Your elegance is in the tousled locks of hair that frame the lustrous sheen of your high forehead adorning the pearly orbs of your eyes

And your succulent garnet lips which demand a good morning kiss

Stolen just as you rise from the couple of the sleep lover into the fragrant day rise.


I am aware of your being in the dark

I am intimate with the shape of you

I draw your outlines in the furore of chaos

And you stand out


I imagine you in the light

Hallucinations wrought by the soporific daze that is you

Overwhelming my senses

I’m high

With the thought of you.


I know your little details

The scars patterning your legs

The slant of your eyes when you smile

The wrinkle thing your nose does

When you furrow your brow in concentration

Or giggle unashamedly

Wiggling like a bauble in the hands of a toddler

Your occasional prattle

When your voice jingles in my brain

And your uncomfortable steely silence

Where nothing creases your impassive face.

I am familiar with you

In spirit and in being

Feeling your heart throb as you touch mine

We are made of the God-stuff

On the cosmic plain where the lines blur

And planes shift

And bodies cascade in chocolate resplendence

As stars fall and galaxies collide

As our minds meld

Forming black holes and leaving nebulae in our wake.


hand in hand, image courtesy google images

© Sena Frost ‘17


Two Little Boys

​Two little boys watching the world race by

Watching hills grow and suns rise

Catching wanderlust for the first time

Two little boys full of colour and personality

One red one yellow

Colourcoded and sacrosanct in possession 

Two little boys peering into a catalogue 

Imagining a future filled with toys

Fuelling an imagination without limits

Two little boys running the streets and alleyways

With new cars in tow 

Hoods smashed open to make “open top” cars

Two little boys sharing a love for reading

Plying voyages printed in the pages of a book

Opening their minds to a world in the past, future and present

Two little boys taking everything apart

Putting them back together but hardly ever getting them to work

And then hailing because they found a spark

Two little boys ever so restless

Roaming the territory

Sharing a bicycle and with a dog in tow

Two little boys fighting

One doing what the other cannot

So different yet so similar

Two little boys on the ride back home

Cramped into too-small seats

Yet filled with the pride of men grown 

Two little boys who never grew up

Even if they are no longer little boys

Reliving the days of future past

Where men were gods

And they were watching the world race by

Watching hills grow and suns rise

Catching wanderlust for the first time

© Sena Frost ‘17

White Raven


Perched in the rafters

Keen eyes watching

Always watching

After all you’re the messenger of the All Father

At least to some

You’re just a trouble maker


Uncomfortable with any truth that is not yours.
Harbinger of death

Omen of ill fortune

You soar the skies

Harassing the kites

Harrying the eagles even

Mob justice at its finest

When you steal kills

And tell stories of a hunt you never made.
You preen golden feathers from your plumage

Dancing in scarlet blood

When you proclaim judgement on carrion

Preaching injustice and prejudice

Sowing discord and reaping chaos

Carry on!

Douse yourself with dust.
Mock the jays

Rob the cocks

Stab the robins

Swallow the sparrows

Clean up with the bustards and buzzards

Unwanted one

Not fit for anything but gossip.
You see nothing good

Except for you

At least your brethren do not hide themselves in their inky blackness

Your magpie cousins love the shiny things

But you?

You stand out in full colour

You’re an apostate

Conspicuous in the harangue of your self proclaimed enlightenment.
Your duty to religion will be the death of you

It snows not here

And while you glide the thermals for the latest gossip

Some trigger happy kid will shoot you out of the sky with a sling

His daddy will stuff you and put you in a display case for quick cash

You’re your own ill omen

Life is the harbinger of your doom

False prophet

Freak of nature!

Be consumed by your own lies

Oh one more thing

Next time be born black.


image courtesy @archillects on twitter
© sena frost ’17

Kelewele By The Ocean & Love Distins

What if we cooked in the kitchen today and I made a mess of the recipe
Or mess up the fufu because I can’t pound for shit
Or palm-nut soup isn’t really your forte because you spent your time roaming the pages of a book
Instead of staying with mom and learning to cook
So we go out instead and buy tubs of ice cream and mountains of candy
Munching on the opposite ends of a chocolate bar
Would be so much fun wouldn’t it

What if we lay on the roof of your house stargazing
Staring at the crescent moon instead
Because city lights drown out the stars
Then you blot out the stars with your silhouette
Because I can hear your heart beating in anticipation
Or maybe it’s mine because I’d roll you over and show you the secrets of the universe patterned in my moonshine eyes
And I’d tell you we are billions of years old because we’re all made of the same stuff as the stars and the earth and the air and that was really where we go back to being when we die
Would be heavenly wouldn’t it

What if we went on a stroll through the market
Jay walking across the street and tasting everything some
Window shopping and laughing at everything and everyone
Annoying the market women mocking the “fools in love” while they prattle the latest gossip
And we wouldn’t care because we won’t buy their stuff anyways
Would be hilarious wouldn’t it

What if we skipped work and lectures and lay in bed all day
Leg over leg
Playing music loudly
Feeling each other with our intimate parts
Grunting and giggling and groping and kissing and pulling and sighing
Ecstasy dancing
In the shadows the curtains cast
Would be wild wouldn’t it

What if we went on a date at night and had kelewele by the ocean
Savouring the spicy tang while the sobolo sweats in the ice bucket
While we listen to the waves crash against the shore
Frothing in harmony with the pale sands
We would tease the water with our feet and listen to our hearts beat cradled at the foot of the coconut palm
As our fingers kiss and lace and the electric warmth caresses our nestled figure
Wild and exotic and full of imagination
Freed of Monday mornings and rush hour
In moments like this
Time stands still
Would be so romantic wouldn’t it

© Sena Frost 2k17

image courtesy Google Images

A Twin Story

I knew a pair of twins once
Fair and bewitching 
Witty and full of charm
They were alike in many ways but one
They were as like day and night 
While I was drawn to the dark night
The day bright was no less delightful 
We had many talks 
While the day wove her tales of light 
The night spoke of stars bright 
I fell in love with them both 
And in the trouble of choosing either 
I ended up with neither 
For as I pondered and floundered
They met strangers in their ceaseless wander 
Full of wonder 
The day went with the warm sun 
And the night kissed the moon man
Poor me!
And with my heart rent asunder
I looked at them from afar 
Unable to speak
But seeing them full of joy
I smiled a tear streaked smile 
And wondered where all the time went 
Because I miss them terribly 
~ Bluebird & Pee

Image courtesy Pinterest 

© Sena Frost 2k17