Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Obsession









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: http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs40/f/2009/006/f/0/f0c31ea65f77cf707c72db204cbe7d29.jpg




Tuesday, October 19, 2010

...as 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...
...as 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.


picture: http://th01.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2010/049/f/1/The_Red_Parasol_by_foureyes.jpg



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.


picture: http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs6/i/2005/056/f/1/Echo_by_trinity_77.jpg




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.



picture: http://th01.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2010/073/3/0/duplicity_by_BillyWebb.jpg




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.



picture:http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs6/i/2005/099/9/e/Painting_the_Past_by_liquidshaneo.jpg



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.