Poems

Tell me where you will get her?

This golden girl

This beauty

The one with eyes of milk

And a sea of glistening crystals

The one with skin of brown

The one they refer black

The one with thick lips

That early riser

The golden child

Seek her brows

A temptress

Yet kind

The one who breathes warm air

The one who cannot stand cold air

Beauty unmatched

Wears only clothes of the gods

Has big fuzzy-woolly hair

The one with a tea-cup nose

A long neck like that of a giraffe

The mother of the world

The blanket of the universe

The joy of humanity

The prayer of the dawn

The forgiver of evils

Search the earth,

So, you may find

Her peace like a river

Mercy like the trickles of blood of a sacrifice

A portion of all portions

The golden woman

Worker of man

Passage of the ancestors

Child of righteousness

Only she could redeem humanity

Poet’s Explanation

Every woman is beautiful in her own way. What she sets her mind to accomplish, is truly her own mission. How the world chooses to see her, is indeed left to the 'viewer's' interactions with what they term - beautiful.

Walk with me to the journey of disappointment.
Walk me to the days with no bread.
Walk with me to the valley of the dead.
Before all is good

There was a time when they had it all.
There was a time when I had it all.
There was a time we had it all.
Before all is good

Talk of today’s success
Talk of the blame game
Talk of the things you would rather build.
Before all is good

Who finds treasure?
Who breaks the ice?
Who makes jars of clay?
Before all is good

Unto all a day of plenty
Unto all a day of scarcity
Unto all a middle balance
Before all is good

Poet’s Explanation

At times all seems to be working against us. It could be one's surroundings or perceptions that bury the hope we often look for while manoeuvring a bad day.

One should look for the little blessings unfolding. Hold on and hold out.

To those that forgot to say thank you,

To those that did not have the words,

To those that went their way,

To those who had a way,

This is to you.

To those that forgot to say thank you,

To those that did not inspire,

To those that did not aspire,

To those that had a way,

This is to you.

To those that forgot to say thank you,

To them we still see you,

To them I still see you,

To those who had a way,

This is to you.

To those that forgot to say thank you,

To them we still celebrate,

To some we have buried,

To those who had a way,

This is to you.

To those that forgot to say thank you,

To them we still curse,

To those we wished a ton of bricks would fall,

To those who had a way,

This is to you.

To those that forgot to say thank you,

To those we forgave,

To those we released,

To those who had a way,

This is to you.

To those that forgot to say thank you,

To those we called the healing,

To others we called Christ,

To those that had their way,

This is to you.

To those that forgot to say thank you,

To them we shall never forget,

To them the blood runs,

To those that had their way,

This is to you.

To those that forgot to say thank you,

To them we still celebrate,

To some we are fixed on,

To those who had a way,

This is to you.

To those that forgot to say thank you,

To them we still fail to write it off,

To them we have forgotten,

To those who had a way,

This is to you.

Poet’s Explanation

Thank you and forgiveness are a way of release. These words touch many revealing what we uphold as good virtues and a must do or a necessity in society.

However, there is a pain that is deep and unreleased that no amount of thank yous nor the thought of forgiveness, quenches the hurt and pain done.

How are you today?
How are you this hour?
How are you this minute?
How are you this second?
How are you this micro-second?

Do you still write?
Do you still dance?
Do you still sing?
Do you still draw?
Do you still capture light?

Where are you now?
Where is that lonely soul?
Where are you veering off to?
Where are hopes promised?
Where are the dreams?

Did you lose vision?
Did your pants become smaller?
Did your coat fit?
Did your shoes wear off?
Did you find your child?

Where will the day come?
Where will the nonsense cease?
Where will your soul find rest?
Where do the most important people fit?
Where will this all come together?

These are the questions of the heart
These are the questions of the mind
These are the questions of the soul
These are the questions unanswered
These questions linger

The tired head
The weak limbs
The body that wants
The things that cannot be
The longing that be

Open my heart
Open all ways
Open the blind ways
Open the mouth that yearns to sing
Open it all

Somehow salvation comes
Somehow salvation is
Somehow hope dawns
Somehow what died lives
Somehow there is magic

Spare me the details
Spare me the weakness
Spare me the pain
Spare me another day
Spare me all

-End-

Poet’s Explanation
At times there is a void that lingers within one’s heart space. One tries to touch it but cannot. Often the individual feels that there is a longing for what is out there. The only problem is that they cannot bridge the gap quickly enough to comfort themselves at the point of loneliness. Should you find yourself in this piece, go ahead and make it a point to reflect, meditate, and find a deeper version of yourself that might peer through.