To my Khaleesi….

I want to feel your breath against my neck

Blowing air kisses

Stealing my own breath

I want to feel your hands caressing my cheek

Unwittingly yet skillfully unknotting my mind

Pushing aside the drapes of my darkness

Inviting the baby of mischief clinging to my ribcage to come out and play

I want to look into your eyes

Those brown galaxies you walk with

Those eyes that remind me of starry nights and twinkling stars

Eyes that see my soul

Dust and all

And still they weaken my knees

Eyes that reached in and stole my heart

I want to taste those lips

Those full

luscious

Tantalizing

And oh so heavenly inviting lips

Lips that wove a basket of word poetry

That calmed my heart and breastfed my confidence

Lips that cover a mouth that sucked

All the worries and doubts out of my mind

Lips that kisses my skin and conceived

Lustful aching and longing from my groin

Lips that kiss so tender yet so consumingly

My brain goes for a stroll and I forget to breathe.

I want to feel your skin

Supple, dark and beautiful

Skin that has current

Electric current that fans my passions

And sets aflame the fires of longing and protectiveness

Skin that charges my blood

And draws its path with goosebumps on my skin

I want to touch those curves

Curves I need to clip the apex to go round

Curves that cornered me into submission

You’d already won the battle and you didn’t know

Taking the mallet of your physique

Smashing into my primal desires

And slapping my face with it

But most of all

I want to converse with your mind and make love with your heart

That mind that is so witty

So brilliant and so knowledgeable

I admit it

You’re smarter than I am in more ways than I can count

No ifs,

No buts

Its the most attractive thing about you

Your heart comes second

So gentle

Caring

Kind

Warm

Loving

Generous

Inspiring

Its so amazing how such a small thing

Can be so large

So large you made room for me and my woeful ness

My imperfections, warts and all

You stole my heart and locked it in yours

This you know

But all the more

You’re a queen

My queen

You’re the suits to my Barney Stinson

The melody on my heartstrings

The cheese to my pizza

The khaleesi of my dragon

Breaker of my pain

Pearl of beauty

Mother of all that is beautiful and true

Slice me with your smile, I am your bread

Sip me from your glass, I’m your mojito

Iron me with your love, I am your blouse

Mop me with your brilliance and charm, I am your floor

Roast me on the flames and savagery of your wit, I am your goat ribs.

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Storm.

I sit and watch the tumble weed

Stampeding patiently across the street

The town used to be full

Children playing hide n seek

Cars inching across the tarmac

Sellers flaunting wares

Couples walking in pairs

Flowers and leaves dancing in the breeze to unheard music

But that was then

And this is now

Then the storm happened

It battered the town and shook the houses

Broke windows and fell trees

And there I was rushing home

Trying to beat the impending doom

Running and falling

Trying to reach home

And the storm raced before me

Battered and shook

Howling and stomping

And shattered our windows

The townspeople fled

All the same night

While I begged them to stay

The little child down the street was last

Wiping tears and dust

The thunder laughed

The lightning took a picture

All said, all done

Beside the house I sit

Watching for the storm

Praying you come back.

The fine print

Funerals aren’t for the dead

They’re for the living to gather and break bread

To shed tears in solemn silence

While scheming relatives mark available property

Birthdays arent for the babies,

They’re for the friends to compare

Contrast and take notes

While the baby contemplates

The yearly reminder of their approaching death.

Weddings aren’t for the bride and groom

They’re for family and friends

Caught up in the minutiae

Sizing up the backgrounds of the other

While searching for probable mates

And an excuse to drink and ogle the bride

One last time.

Graduations arent for students

They’re for parents

Celebrating their validation at having successfully raised a human being

All the while struggling to make them not die

Showing off their offspring as successful

In a tandem bid to jealous-ify their friends and relatives

Elections arent for the voters

Theyre for politicians

Clawing for power and office

A peekaboo game

Here for campaigns

Gone for 5 years

Till next time.

Truth?

I’m weary of dreams

They cover eyes and blind to reality

Showing only joy and a touch of pain

Never really displaying the hurt 

The deceit

The lies peddled from the cart of life. 

Pulling a thread unravels the cloth

And coincidences I believe in not

Yet my loyalties lay bound in knot

And over my head cover my eyes with this tarp of cloth

To scratch a rusty peny 

Unveil its hidden treasures and ills

May be fortune, 

May be filth

But to seek truth 

The blinders should be torn asunder

Display the roads to yonder

Decide and choose 

The path to take

And the path to cede

For light to fresh eyes

At first is pain 

Then next its accustom

As such to see beyond the picket fence

A board must be pulled.

Thus show to me dear thread I’ve pulled

What lies beneath this cloth you built

A truth I know not yet of and I should

Or an overactive imagination keeping me glued. 

For I trust not what I hear

But I do see through your veneer. 

Sometimes I hate myself

Sometimes… 

Sometimes I hate myself 

For holding back

Thinking that

I’m not good enough 

Sometimes I loathe myself

For letting past

Great opportunities 

And letting the past

Break free and come screw with me. 

Sometimes I hate myself 

For overthinking

Disbelieving scenarios

Tormented by mental sicarios

Scared to take action

And see how my ideas goes. 

Sometimes I’m angry with me

For caring for nonsense

But deserting care for cents

I’m incensed 

My mind says this

Heart feels that 

Ignores my soul says no. 

I’m mostly happy with myself

For being a junior Martin Luther King 

And believing I have a dream

Even when clouds and storms to me cling. 

I’m very proud of myself

For seeing through the haze

Of mixed emotions yesterday

Failures of my past building me up today

So my future I can calmly face.

I’m astonished by myself

For the accomplishments I’ve made 

And the pain overcome can dissipate 

No longer fazed I said

Pick yourself up

Move

Push and meditate. 

Beating obstacles that levitate

Means wings I grow

Above to fly 

Overcome 

Reach the ceiling and break

Expectations bound to me. 

But now I see

Roadblocks like a dozer go through them

Like a phantom phase through them

with a smile on my face

Embrace and subdue them

Arrows in my back and neck

Walk a head, pull them out and show them

Even in pain, I can still do this

Because best of all

I’m proud of myself 

To push myself

And definitely I beat me to be me. 

I would…. 

I would tell you I’m happy 

But my tears would be lying

Trying but crying

My soul is fighting

For those of the fair gender

To not care I’d be a pretender

Pretence in subsequence

My allegiance is not

But the ills confered 

Inferred and inflected 

Upon, I do weep
I would say I’m scared

But the ease 

With which

Which with I conduct 

These songs to play

Perform to please

Enjoy and concieve 

Happiness in you

A shield wouldst form. 

Not immaculate conception

Bring for perception 

Disguise this perception

Calm bring your heart. 
I would say I’m fine

But these wrinkles

Wreathed with freckles

Freshly picked from my dalliance

In this alliance

In my daily dance 

Under the sun

Would my lie betray

Lest I 

Free feel to display

The questions

The who what the where and the how

Sitting here,  my hair, tearing it out

My soul to bleed

I beg carry me

Mercy please 

The cup of stress, may it cease

As your laughter 

Happiness will breathe

Into my weary bones, these, 

And finally 

In time, fine

I will find

I will be. 
I will tell you I’m now happy 
A smile you will see

A crack of sunshine

To light up my pale sky

But I 

Deep inside, know my

Joy was resting

Resuscitating

And recuperating 

In I. 

(image courtesy of Mavingo Photography… Captured at Blankets and Wine)