Friday, December 31, 2010

55 - my soul is bleeding

In these minutes past the hour
of the darkest time of the night,
my soul is weeping
for the dreams discarded,
carelessly flung into the flaming sunset
of a shattered reflection.
And my soul is bleeding
for the trust betrayed,
sullied by the kisses at New Year's turn,
from the one with the poisoned tongue.

every friday, compose a short story of 55 words - no more, no less. if you want to join in the fun and games and give it a your story and report to the boss G-Man

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Wasted promises

I’m shocked by the tears that are falling like rain
when I see what is really behind
the façade you’ve created, and had me believe,
to be you, the one whom I love.
And an icy hand grips my heart,
twists while a knife
shreds the years into wasted promises,
as I see my existence
shimmer like a mirage,
when the mind of a trickster erases my reality
and reveals the barren wasteland
of a life that is but a charade.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

The silence of the shadows

Breathe a deep sigh in the silence of the shadows,
become still as you drink in the night,
savor the solitary moments alone
with the magical touch of moonlight.
Feel as it weaves through you, cleansing your thoughts,
removing the grit and the grime
that's tainting your vision, containing your soul,
in the distance the old church bells chime.
Watch as the ribbons untie and fall,
one by one, they allow your release,
and you soar into velvety arms that reign
in a space of content that won't cease.
So as this day nods its head towards the dusk,
I welcome the coming night,
brought by the heavens, kissed by the stars,
to this dark I submit without fight.

picture credit:

Friday, December 10, 2010

Escaping the madness

Distress builds a cloud in these once carefree eyes,
overwhelming the need to erect a disguise,
remove from the consciousness these blatant lies
and withdraw to the edge of the world.

Where the silky soft silence surrounds like a cloak,
shrouding your presence behind opaque smoke,
the phony carousing releases the yoke
of deception that smothers your soul.

And you breathe icy air yet unspoiled by the grime
of the souls that are lost, where the moon doesn't shine,
where the power that rules is a maze in forged time,
where alone, you uncurl from this haze.

picture credit:

Monday, November 22, 2010

The fall of the crimson curtain

Murmuring their dissent are the voices of the night,
'wakening latent fears that take from the moon its soothing light,
whilst the shadows, in a trance, paint disturbing pictures black,
on the walls within your heart, that now plunder and ransack
all the order you've created in the shambles of your life,
as they rip with sharpened edge through this canvas with a knife,
bringing fresh blood to the surface of the mirror-smooth reflection
that was gazing at the world, in its place a crimson curtain.

picture credit:

Monday, November 15, 2010


And thus we find ourselves,
on the edge of the world,
lingering on the brink between darkness and light.
And it's here that we share
our sorrows and our thrills,
our dreams and our regrets,
all the while drifting
closer and closer,
'til we breathe the same breath,
think the same thoughts,
before melting as one to the ill-ordained whispers of the wind.

But the wind that blows,
blows in cold with the breaking dawn,
burning away the fevered promises,
blistering the dreams we so briefly dreamt,
reducing our joy to a heap of dry ashes now drifting away in this wind. the voices from the dark side bewitch and enchant.
Gilded sureties flowing from their glib and faithless tongue,
broken words promising to return the heat into our veins
while a nothingness fills our sleepless dreams
in a void of numb surrender.

Yet when we eventually still we'll hear
the forming dewdrops in the silence of the dawn.
And as the first light, with its steadfast warmth
thaws the icy cold that has gripped our hearts in a vice,
defrosting the immobility of our senseless mind,
nudges us to stand up on this fragile ledge
and turn away from the pervading gloom;
towards our choices, emerging, shy as a shimmer,
freeing our spirit, our sight and our soul,
as our shadowy bonds dissolve.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010


Can you feel the grip of obsession, draw into your skin,
as you stand with your back to a bare brick wall
in a darkened alleyway, giving in to fantasies meant to remain hidden forever.
Can you feel its strength, the power, as it gains control,
demanding surrender with each fevered breath,
threatening to burn you alive, or die,
but submit you must, the choice is no longer yours to make.
You swallow your breath, your eyes start to close
as you desperately seek these illicit sensations,
for you are the puppet
of a need, a desire, to sink, sink, sink
in the dark world of raging compulsion,
indescribable to those
who have never experienced
its insatiable greed, compulsive need and driving force,
of free-falling into that black oblivion
of a body, a mind, completely numb...

picture credit:

Tuesday, October 19, 2010 I choose

I feel myself still under deep shades of grey
reaching further than my eyes can see,
that cast muted shadows in silvery light,
while granting me transparent sight.
And I relish the feel of the warm desert winds
in the darkness of the night,
that wrap themselves 'round the naked grime
in hours now lost in time... I choose to make wishes on stars that streak
through black velvet skies on a whim,
taking my dreams to the gods that reside
in the hearts of those who believe.

Monday, October 11, 2010

Release me from this dream

I stand on the grounds of a once beautiful home,
under skies with the muted light
of a windy, cloudy, dust-filled sky
chasing an early dusk.
This home feels abandoned, neglected and ignored,
dry dust where once luscious lawns grew.
And I hear a cry, a lonely whimper,
from a dog confined somewhere.
I walk the cracked paving where weeds have drawn
a chaotic pattern through the crevices,
to enter a door, the metal frame coloured with rust,
into a room with the curtains drawn.
Stale and musty is the air, thick and filled with dust,
the colours a pale, indistinguishable shade of brown,
their life long lost in time.

I hastily leave and now drive down darkened streets,
and as naturally as travelling on tarred roads
she rises into the air.
We float over treetops and suburbia,
miniature houses with pinpricks of light
hidden amongst tall trees,
before dropping into a neighbourhood
familiar, only by name.

The streets are deserted, the houses now dark,
an occasional pool of light from a streetlamp
guiding the way.
Deep here, is the silence, and the air of desertion,
as I walk these unknown roads.
And just as I round the corner
my heart sinks when I see my car,
standing askew on the side of the road,
the axle horribly bent.
How did this happen. What will I do.
What will I say. How am I going to fix this.

With shaking hands and shakier knees
I sink into an old, unsteady metal chair
in the backyard of somebody's house.
A nameless old lady with an apron and a headscarf
joins us at the table and while I am trying
to make sense of what happened,
she presents me with photographs,
photographs of flowers. Pictures, she says,
I should show my mother,
for she will surely recognise them as those
she grew in Windhoek.

All this time my stomach is twisted into knots,
knots of fear, apprehension, dread, indecision,
yet I knew I had to take responsibility
for this, which has happened,
though it's the last thing I wanted to do.
How could I possibly right this with my parents?

So intense were the feelings, my muscles so stiff,
they stirred my sleeping body into wakefulness,
and relief flooded through me,
as I slowly, was released, from this dream...

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Red Moon Rising

Feel the deep hush as the breeze breathes its final breath into the darkening sky, and hear the sweet notes as songbirds sing their lullabies to slowly awakening stars. Then sink in the velvet of the red moon rising, touching the world with a glow, that turns the days dust to a magical sprinkle that leads you to dreamlands on distant, mysterious shores.


Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Reflections of the day

Invisible thoughts,
fed by concealed visions,
dance through fields
of slowly dying embers,
as fleeting words
find their way home
and settle in your heart,
while others
disappear into an echo.


Monday, July 26, 2010

the mask removed

Your words sweet as sugar ran over me, wrapping my whole in warmth,
sweet as the song of an angel at dawn, soft as the eyes of a fawn.
And I knew I was right to believe in you, that we were meant to be,
the tears weren’t in vain, no matter what, we’d triumph again and again.
So sweet were your words, unexpected, unsought, making it all worthwhile,
it could only mean I was right to trust in you for all this time.

...and the hands of the clock kept ticking away relentlessly, mute was the telephone, the world filled with silence as the streets stayed still, the streets that would mark your return. In time the darkness replaced the golden rays as the sun bowed its final farewell making way for deep shadows to cast dark plays of torment and pain over walls. And the silence once peaceful now echoes with voices that taunt and sneer abuse, making a mockery of those words, those words I chose to believe.

In midnightly hours I see a face, with angles rigid and stiff,
lips in a hard line and hooded the eyes, bearings that take and not give.
Yet the voice is familiar, but in the tone I hear duplicity’s groove,
your voice rubs the wounds with the salt of your deeds, it’s you with your mask removed.


Monday, July 19, 2010

Painting the past

Make peace with the past but retain it in sight, a reminder of where you have been. Paintings of yesterday do ease the way to choices with peace therein.


Tuesday, July 6, 2010

existence without a timepiece

You find lasting peace
under black velvet skies
when the day sighs a breath of release,
and a fading trail
marks your unbound ascent
to existence without a timepiece.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

the circle of timeless regret

Shrouded in a blanket of silence and mist,
touched by the ice in the air,
my vision is clouded by a light I can’t see,
my hearing is doused by a prayer.
And I follow the brightness towards the masked warmth
of raindrops that hover, then fall,
shattering the circle of timeless regret,
while heeding the waves as they call.

Monday, June 21, 2010

Memories that do not exist

I travelled long forgotten miles as I followed the footsteps to my youth, past landscapes revealing faint images of stories and people obscured by time, to a place that doesn’t exist. And through my mind drifts a girl, dreaming, under blue skies and sometimes grey, alone in her backyard or on the beach, while the wind would blow every which way.

Now driving through streets with familiar names, past facades that hint this was once home, a tear starts to form, then roll down my cheeks for nothing is quite what it seems. The fingers of time have touched everything, gone are the faces I knew, gone is the oak tree that marked the edge of my experience, gone is that girl with those dreams.

It’s a sadness hollow, for a youth I can’t reclaim, for a time that is lost in the mist. It wraps round my heart and embraces, constricts, for people who’s touch my soul kissed. Yet a warmth sneaks on through and reclaims the cold tears that have left a trail on my heart, as I feel the memories fold themselves around me, sweet memories that no longer exist…

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

the lost café

“This reminds me of sitting outside the Lost Café after a hot summer’s day on the beach, listening to some jazz, with an ice-cold drink in my hand. Will we ever do that, you think?“

Mesmerized I gazed at the image before me, listening to these dreamy words, and I could feel the condensation from the frosty glass, running from my hand, past my wrist, down my arm, like a glistening vein of ice.

To my shock I felt tears, unexpected and unwanted, flowing from my eyes. Eyes that burnt as if touched by the rays of the glaring sun reflecting off the white sands alongside the smooth Mediterranean waters. Unblinking I stared, immersed in a sadness as endless as the ocean, that streamed round her body as she dove into welcoming azure arms that stroked, caressed and cooled.

And it felt like the fingers that plucked the notes from that soulful guitar were tweaking at the very core of my heart, touching deep corners carefully hidden away, lest they result in tears of regret, tears that flowed right now, for that, which never will be…


Sunday, June 6, 2010

the trickling sand

You entered my world, all shiny and new, unblemished and untouched, with lines that were clear, had a silvery edge, smooth as a silhouette. I treasured your being, I played with you, you gave me thrills intense, that each time I saw you my heart seemed to swell, so strong, I was left without breath.

With the passage of time marked by trickling sand, I spotted a blemish, a scar. Distaste filled my mouth, erasing my smile, all the while disappointment grew. And my thoughts turned to sludge in a mud that was thick with resentment, and anger and shame. I simmered in jealousy, cold and raw, for the ones who were flawless out there.

I tried to protect you and shield you from harm, yet the scratches appeared unseen. And each time I saw you your wounds blinded me, as I looked at these damaged goods. Aggrieved as I was, I let these emotions take hold and transferred them to you. I felt my mind shift as I shut you out, while I used, but did not value you.

‘til there came a day I recounted the tale of how we came to be and there was a rumble, the earth seemed to shift, as awareness new flashed through me. These scars don’t diminish, they do not reduce, the worth that is in you. You are not less than you were before just because you have come through the war... these lines are the marks, that you've loved and lost, of the milestones along your way. I see you now with eyes brand new, and you've grown in value to me.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010


Dark and long,
bleak and frozen,
empty, barren and bare…

Feel, as it overwhelms,
sinks through the air,
to your skin and down to your soul.
Feel, as it drains from you
your will to move,
you’re absorbed in the landscape, white.
Feel, as your mind clears
and thoughts turn to wisps
of a mist that is snagged by the breeze.
Feel, as you merge
with this silence that is,
the time of rest is here…


Wednesday, May 26, 2010

the door has opened

I created this one door away from heaven in a time of turmoil and distress; and found here a haven, a place I could breathe, while around me the air was thick with dust. Dust from a past that wouldn’t let go, with ghosts that haunted the days, which I tried to outrun, which I tried to escape, all the while dancing on a path of quicksand…

As I stood at this door I heard the rumble of distant storms and threats, while I delved in the darkness and reveled in thoughts without a glimmer of that promised sunrise. Even time seemed to slip through my fingers untouched, without hope, without change, it was dust.

Yet even a rock must yield in time, to the pounding of the waves, submit to the waters that wash and cleanse, become pliable in its ways. One full moon passed and then another, and still in the air I could hear the tune of those silent murmurs that soothed; ever-present, while turning the key.

Now before me lies a glimmering sky and its gift-wrapped the world in pure gold, inviting me in, to test and to taste, and I’m itching to explore. And I daren’t stand and linger on this threshold, what surprises are passing me by? What treasures are out there just waiting for me to uncover and unwind? This haven is here, will always be here, invariably I will be back, but now is the time to bid you adieu, its time to re-enter the world…


Tuesday, May 11, 2010

the crimson tide

you want to lash out
to anyone near
the surge is electric
induces raw fear
that sweeps through the sky
like a dark crimson tide
twisting all reason
to madness you stride
as answers once clear
become murky with grime
forgotten in moments
forgotten in time

…that drags while it fleets
over scorched arid lands
chased by a rage
in the shape of clawed hands
that ruthlessly drive you
towards the last ledge
fuelled by a frenzy
with razor sharp edge
desperate to reach you
and wring from your soul
every last dream
that is in your control


Friday, April 16, 2010

55 - melody of chaos

Collective they stream
down the road like a swarm,
seeking ruin, with cries in the air.
Harm and destruction
secreting a chill
that swells to a violent cold dare.

……fragile the silence
they leave in their wake
mongst litter that blows in the breeze,
dark’ning the day
with destructive intent,
when hatred to ruin carries.


every friday, compose a short story of 55 words - no more, no less. if you want to join in the fun and games and give it a your story and report to the boss G-Man

Saturday, April 10, 2010

the thread in the night

The night is still and sends out a thread
of undisturbed silence and peace,
in cold black skies with glittering stars
as far as the eyes can see.

…yet an invisible fog descends on your soul
raising goosebumps of foreboding,
for under these skies dark forces meet
with powers far beyond your understanding.
Touching platforms and stages that will affect
every part of your lifestyle and dreams,
this knowledge alone, turns the beauty of night
into ominous silence, boding evil.
An evil so pure, relentless and filled with hate,
a darkness blacker than black,
that will engulf you, swallow you whole,
erase your existence, your history, your being,
with an arrogance confident of success.
These forces unstoppable gather power and speed
as they feed on the fear of immobility, indecision and chaos
that sweeps the masses into a trance
of chilling hatred and a thirst for blood,
turning beauty to dust and love into hate,
turns care into killing and reduces your brother to puddles of blood,
that darkens the ground in a rusty daylight.


Tuesday, March 30, 2010

intimate strangers

a deep rolling rumble that echoes through plains
over parched lands that are desperate for rains
touch down not gentle on needy hot flesh
frantically seeking, these strangers enmesh

entranced in the spell of a burning desire
held in control by the conscious umpire
freed as the lightning strikes, rugged and bare
driven by hunger these mingled limbs share

they ride on the winds of a passion that‘s blind
striving to taste all sensations confined
recklessly feeding this storm of impulse
heady release as the senses convulse

and breathless they die in a falling descent
limbs in the throes of their passion now spent
skin still ablaze from the touch of those hands
intimate strangers in separate lands


Thursday, March 25, 2010

the ashes of time

wasteful the moments of tears and regret
time spent in mem’ries that only beget
yesterdays pain without hope of release
stealing from you precious hours of peace
dwelling in darkness to songs that lament
words of your making that echo torment
searching for flickering candles of hope
while through old pictures you fumble and grope
take in your hands those old ashes of time
watch as they pass through your memory’s rhyme
a sweet farewell to an unburdened mind
the fresh pearl of time redesigned


Sunday, March 21, 2010

bleeding skies

in dreams your past sins come to taunt you and play
a game of deception they won’t in the day
they bleed peaceful skies with their images raw
your weaknesses built in a bloody jigsaw
that leave you disjointed, renewing your debt
these creatures of darkness won’t let you forget
you shudder awake with hot sweat on your brow
from that which was past again dragged to the now


Friday, March 12, 2010

into a state of silent suspension

wrap me in your arms of ice and soak into my bones
let me fade in frozen mist as hard and cold as stones
fill me with the silent howl of icy winds that storm
leave behind the black and white that steals my last breath warm

i need to sink into the void, the motionless abyss
i’m waiting here for you to give that final mortal kiss
to transport me into a place of silence that’s devoid
of any touch and any sound, all senses left destroyed


Thursday, March 11, 2010

a return to the silence

discord, distaste, distrust
distance yourself from me
the walls are re-built
with wire barbed sharp
the locks slam on gates without key
and the landscape distorts
in a world thick with mist
as i listen to protest mutely
dispassionate eyes
see the blood on my hands
while i brandish my sword stoically…

in a darkness that soothes
let restoring rays wash
over me ‘til your rage has been spent
i will pass through the gates
once a silence returns
to the land you have touched with torment


Saturday, March 6, 2010

dance with the angels

playful the creatures that dance through the night
carried by angels whose calls them invite
through starry gates at the heart of the moon
freely renouncing the earthly paths strewn
with obstacles blinding the visions that flow
richly through silver rays while they echo
in the free spirits that relish the truth
lost… in those moments past youth


Wednesday, March 3, 2010

the scent of fresh limes

one bright dawn came the day that she spread her new wings
from a place safe, protected, where she left many things
to an unknown horizon that her beckoned and called
to a life that was different and open, unwalled

and she travelled to sidewalks where the grey cement bloomed
to a tangle of noise from so many that roomed
on top of the other, with the walls where paint peeled
where a bleakness hung thick, yet to her it appealed

disbelief made him ask, “what are you doing here,
for you sure don’t belong in this pub drinking beer.”
yet she moved little nearer, reaching out to his hand
when she whispered a wish that he wouldn’t withstand

with his eyes overcast he just stared at her zest
then he told her quite frankly, “life here is a test
where the strongest survive, many crumble and fall,
while many just fade in a liquid highball.“

“go back to your life where you get what you want,
where you eat without thought in a smart restaurant.
remain over there, where you know all the rules,
being poor really sucks and the love quickly cools.”

...many years now have passed and he wonders sometimes
what became of the girl with the scent of fresh limes
who embroiled herself sweetly in a life not her own
before leaving one day, just a text on his phone


Wednesday, February 24, 2010

the kiss of the gypsy

it’s the kiss of the gypsy under the moon
with dreams in the wind oh so perfectly hewn
that captures you swiftly, your eyes close, you swoon
to the promise adrift on the tune

and you float on the splendour of gilded wings
feed on pure lust on long purple ev’nings
lap up the nectar of empty nothings
while your soul dances freely through rings

it’s the kiss of the gypsy under the moon
igniting your senses on diamonds laid strewn
you dance with desires on sugar-laced dune
as to pleasures you now are attune


Thursday, February 18, 2010

there's always a tomorrow

black is the night filled with images stark
red is the pain as it flows from the heart
leaving behind the disfiguring mark of a tortured soul on the edge
desperate to end the unstoppable stream
of venom infused that has seeped in unseen
directing the course to a counterfeit dream that ends at precipitous ledge

please take me hand, let me guide you away
shut out the voice that has led you astray
together we’ll learn the black chants to unsay and free the soul from its chains
that send out shockwaves to the shatt’ring of bonds
feel your soul lift as old ghosts leave, abscond
as to bright light your blind vision responds and you glide to tranquillity, peace...


Sunday, January 31, 2010

red are the rivers

red are the rivers that flow through the land
broken by hatred, fed by the hand
with treacherous lies, calculated deceit
that draws out the fear, inducing defeat
while fuelling the flames of cold anger deep
grabbed by the hand in uproar they sweep
destroy in their path previous order and peace
as chaos evokes a destructive release
and trance-like they follow with contorted face
unable to turn back their steps and retrace
the means to avoid the shedding of blood
destruction is pouring, a relentless flood
to end when the tears of survivors are shed
the ignorant victims by powers misled

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

the woods of the flaming trees

lightly the breeze holds the melody
that flows forth from your lips
memorable words a parody
as smooth as crafted scripts
that by the red rays of the harvest moon
i allow to through me flow
caught by the mesmerizing tune
i take your hand and follow
into the woods of the flaming trees
as leaves our shoulders dust
awak’ning in me the chill of disease
your words are laced with rust
and with the onset of natures death
my soul froze to your plea
cold is the whisper on your breath
i retreat into woods misty

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

misty murmurs

a feeling as silent and subtle as mist
is rising up through the air
tentacles curling and winding their way
sensations you don’t much for care

the innocence in this breathy white veil
belies a deceptive core
disguising dark doorways in wispy light masks
that leave you uncertain, unsure

move through this forest of dangers and charm
the feelings that through you sweep
hear the soft murmurs that float on the breeze
their hum as soothing as sleep

and heed there is perched on the roof an owl
at the door where the mist hangs damply
so follow the touch that your senses placates
for your instinct will lead you deftly

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

remember me as a dream

leave me to fade into yesterdays
of moonlight and limbs entwined
fleeting temptation we couldn’t deny
to pleasure we yielded and dined
savouring the lick of heat in our veins
our senses and touch ablaze
breathing in feverish scents awash
we tumbled in lusty forays

yet written in stardust our names were not
a moment’ry madness’ delight
the draw of the silvery moonlit skies
that offered a carnal respite
and in my mind’s eye i lie in your arms
that wasn’t our dream to dream
i bid you farewell on this dying night breeze
remember me as a dream