2011

I’m in Marvin’s room

Sitting by the ‘phone

Just staring at them blowing a ‘shroom

The click of the keyring before the dial tone

Rings loudly

The phone

I pick it up

Cradling my cup set full of Rosé

“Talk to me

Please say something”

She breathes on the other side of the line

“I slept with my best friend’s girlfriend

I didn’t even feel bad about it”

She breathes on the other side of the line

“I see you in my dreams at night

An angel dressed in white

My angel

Please

Give me a chance

Cos I know you’re the one for me”

She says nothing

I am in Marvin’s room

Sitting by the phone

Just staring at them blowing a ‘shroom

The click of the keyring before the dial tone

Rings loudly

The phone

I pick it up

Cradling my cup set full of Rosé

“Talk to me

Please say something”

She breathes on the other side of the line

“I don’t love you

I’ve never loved you

Can you just be happy for me?

I love him ”

I breathe on the other side of the line

“We can’t be anything more than this

You’re like a brother to me”

I breathe on the other side of the line

The words a lump in my throat

I’m in Marvin’s room

Sitting by the ‘phone

Just staring at them blowing a ‘shroom

The click of the keyring before the dial tone

Rings loudly

The phone

I pick it up

Cradling my cup set full of Rosé

There is no speak

Just breathing

“I miss you”

Just breathing

I scream

I slam the receiver into its cradle and leave the room

The room intoxicated with the fumes of young love and happy couples reminding me of the cold hollow inside me

“I love you

I love you so much it hurts”

The tear lines appear

Slit wrists

The blood and salt coagulate on my shoes

I bleed

I cry

My sobs drowned

While the music rages on

I’m in Marvin’s room

Sitting by the ‘phone

Just staring at them blowing a ‘shroom

The click of the keyring before the dial tone

Rings loudly

The phone

I pick it up

Cradling my cup set full of Rosé

Just breathing

© Sena Frost “17

Drake – Marvin’s Room

Image courtesy google images

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Contraception

We are hedonists all the time
Indulging in the pleasures we have not worked for
We spend long hours in a drunken state of self
But we don’t want the sickly hangover that comes after
We revel in the joy of youth
Bathing in its elixir
But we don’t want the pain that comes with growing up
Freedom is orgasmic
But the toll it exacts is your life
Life
It’s not Never-land
Where Peter Pan never grew up
It’s pregnant with babies we never bargained for while we were messing around
Whether we like it or not we have sole custody
We can’t be contraceptive
Relishing only the sweet fruit and throwing out the bitter seed
Living in an idyllic pasture
On this plane of existence
You’re either all in or out
Ain’t no half measures
Or harvesting what you haven’t sown
So next time you catcall the sweet things
Be ready to birth blood, sweat and tears

© Sena Frost ’17

image courtesy google images

Undefined

Today marks my 26th year on this earth. The winds blow and buffet me but I refuse to be defined by them. This is to the fullest life I have lived yet. Thank you for being with me every step of the way.

Bottom feeder.

Pariah.

Outcast.

Always the labels you try to put on me

Labels that never stick

I am

Flame dancing in the wind

Daring the rain to put me out

I

Refuse to be put in boxes and stashed away

I demand to be heard

Despite your attempts to mute me

I am blessed with faculties of wit

But I remain idiosyncratically anecdotal

I am the hoarfrost during a Russian winter

Kissing your windows and biting your limbs

Invisible

Intangible

Yet uprooting every warm blooded attempt to staple me down

I transcend the limits placed on me

Because

I am

Jack of trades

Polyhistor

Unmoved by circumstance

Grounded in concrete resolve and unyielding faith

Try as you can

But you can never make me inferior

I may be

A bottom feeder.

Pariah.

Outcast.

According to you that is

Always the labels you try to put me

But they will keep peeling off

I remain unaffected to your studies

Religiously aloof.

Until you stop burning the bridges to understand and cohabit

You will remain stymied by the many faced god in your attempts to corral me

And forever I remain

Undefined

© Sena Frost ’17

Libra

I am

The cardinal of the air

Ruler of the Seventh House

Lover of the finer things

Lord of the element of freedom

I am

The lustful draught of breath sucked from a lover’s lungs

The filled spaces of an empty room

I am the sigil of balance

Scales tipping every now and then

Exotically sensual

Anecdotally factual

A sensorium of cleansing

I am

The blackest white

The clearest night

A knight not

Just a savvy parlay-man

I am

Nought but man

And yet in me

God gives.

Image courtesy google images

© Sena Frost ’17

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 fright.
Dyes draining down the sink.
Coagulating thoughts of might,
Let down with the delicate reality of a dink.

Then you came,
And I dipped myself in paint,
While you were content to hold me up; my own frame,
Sitting on an easel,
White.

No more cravings,
Or thoughts tumbling,
Arranged in rows of sapphire ink.
Sad,
I always thought myself the poet I never was.

© Sena Kodjokuma 2015

KISS

The soft sucking sounds

Of air giving way.

The musk of your perfume

Arousing my nostrils

The firm warmth of your breasts

Crushed against my chest.

The cinnamon taste of your tongue,

Spicy and treacly.

The soft moan,

Strangled in your throat.

That moment,

When we kissed.

Lips to lips,

Noses tingling

And eyes closed

While the world melted away

To nothing.

I knew in that moment

That

I love you.

© Sena Kodjokuma 2014

Words of a Cynic

Too much of everything is bad

Yeah even the good things

Good doused with a big pinch of salt.

Too much love is bad

Because it blinds one to the truth

Which in turn is mostly ugly

And can ruin carefully structured relationships.

Too much selflessness is self degrading

Talk about being a pawn to people who don’t give a damn about you.

Too much help is bad

Spoils the need for independence and self growth.

Sacrifice sucks.

Why die for someone to live and waste his life staring through a glass bottle?

Too much light is bad

In seeing everything you cannot envision one thing.

Trust can be the death of a man

For a snake knows not the hand that feeds him.

Obedience is the sword of the oppressor

Quick to smite

Never questioning.

Kindness is a bully’s weapon

Why?

It makes one look weak and low spirited.

Lo the light of good blots out the darkness of bad

But hey if killing is wrong then why not let the wicked live?

© Sena Kodjokuma 2014