Giving

I can not give, ..
To one, who wants none..
I can not say words that flatter..
To one, who has no use, for ears..


I can not show lights ,..
To one, who appreciates the darkness..
I can not give directions,..
To one, who is content in standing loss..


In the end..
I can only stretch so far, a hand in gestures,..
And hope, you do the same in response..
If you would, if only 


To meet me on, equidistant paths..
For I can not give to the one..
Who wants none.. 
To hold my heart as hostage 

I did so too

To have a wish, I have none..
And my coin got thrown back..
To me, from wishing well..


To day dream, I did none..
And walked in days as day..
And not dazed in thoughts of the imaginary..


I felt the sun ray shine, bare on my skin..
Felt with sensation, it's vitamins it gave me..
Like blessing, slowly seeping in with ease..


I sat on benches, to have sat on benches..
With absolution, not fear, why fear..
And hold a hand, I know so well..


To look into the eyes..
I know as mine, and see no doubt..
But affirmation, to know as love..


Oh, to have wished, a wishing well, I did none..
To have day dreamed, on dreams, I did none..
Because to know love, real love, I did so too..

What became of Prisoner 46664

A sting left of horror, sorrows..
On a legacy in fine form to be left behind ..
By an honored man who saw it all..
To bear witness in life's drama..

To the roller-coaster of the theater, of life's stories..
That enveloped around him, in his gifted time on earth..
Few if any, know what lies ahead..
In the caricatures of drama, that awaits us..


The soothsayer and the oracle,.. 
Along with Nostradamus..
Have been relegated, in this regard..
Even the weatherman, knows to be cautious..

With what he says to the educated majority..
And so from genesis, his story began..
Born into royal, and then insulted by virtue..
Of birthright, like a suntan, sunburn on skins..


For the left, can not inherit the throne...
Like the second son of a King..
A spare tire made surplus to requirements..
In locomotive wheels,..

That never touches the ground..
Still the gift of stride, strive, is destiny..
And destiny says to strive;..
I am an empty canvas,..

Make of me what you please..
Dreams and ambitions are one thing..
One has to, still walk the narrow lane..
To come out the other side, a Made Man...

Sitting on thrones beyond one's imagination..
Made King of all men, in kingdoms fought for..
But drama is like a cyber game..
Stages levels reached, with challenges set..


Through drama he had, three companions..
And a fourth, for a course..
For which he spent decades..
Behind closed doors..


His life, has been a legacy lived...
But, before his death, he was devoured by his own..
To have watched his name and legacy, hard earned..
Fought for, all for the wrong reasons, for gain in wealth..


Thus why the fortune teller has been..
Relegated to south of the river's bank..
And he knows not, whether to leave..
A happy man, for what castles he built..

And apartheid dragons he slayed ..
Or a sad man, to have lived to see..
The carnage, his own brought to his door step..
Fighting over corpses on burial grounds 

In unions and gatekeepers, 
Battles for middle earth ..
While the destitute; symbols of a legacy,..
Goes starved,  and unattended in the dark.. 

For material gain..

Alibi

Ways of our world...
Ways of our deeds..
Ways of our thinking..
.....
In thoughts, to find reasons for "alibi" ..
The unjustifiable, justified and to say, let it be..
This is, what we are used to, let it be..
...
To fight off change, "concept"..
And lay claim to tradition, customs..
To say, it is a taboo, curse..
Please do not wake, the gods..
...
Deprive the eyes of sight, " horizon"..
And say this is our ways, set with..
And that of our forefathers, legacy..
...
To say a coin has two sides, "head or tails"..
And it will always be so, set in stone..
To fear the curse of the gods, scaremonger..
And blame them for every reason, yet to think of..
...
To say to another, I will stand with you, "thick n thin"..
To say to another, You asking too much, way too much..
To say to another, If only, if only..
...
If only to see with imagination, "vision" ..
And talk of action, if only..
If only such phrases were not in existence..
If only, for no excuse could, be found, be given, If only..
...
Indeed, I would have, could have, If only "circumstances"..
And be relieved off conscience,..
On if only, in last cards played, phhhhhw..
...
Ways of our world, and of are doing "disengaged"..
Ways of our thinking, in silent, locked in..
If only..gee without a doubt, if only, "alibi"...


For those who dare, take all the end words or phrase,
not highlighted, that gives you the second poetry..
To be interpreted in one's own thinking..
Let me know what you come up with.

Subject Matter "Free Verse"

Give me a subject,  matter..
To make hay of, on basis of enlightenment..
So, to what is matter in comprehension requirement ..


In matters discussed, in cases made of..
To be diagnosed in evaluations, analysed in definition ..
To bring to light, in spot lights understanding..


Scientifically, in white overalls..
Worn by men in glasses, happily named brianiacs..
To work out in labs, on brain bashing, orgy..
What is matter, subject in matter, in context..


"What is the matter with you boi! "..
As the old lady, so gallantly, ..
In such compulsion, she miss not her words..
Says, to bring to attention the none-attentive... 
Like Sgt Major's drill, on stands " Yes Sir!"..


Get it?..
Give me a subject matter..
To make hay of..
In mass of depths, weights...
To weigh in standing, understanding, not in kilos ..
"Get it; don't be confused, I love this"...


Reasoning to convince you of..
Winning you over the “matter” in question..
Give me a subject matter..
And I will add mass of you..
To weights of thinkers alike, like you..


In what conundrums questions.."matter"
What has been the subject matter..
To have brought to light, in thinking..


Still confused, not to worry ...
So was I, after reading ..
That which I wrote myself, in writing..
Weird that is, but all in good faith..
I am just a word smith. Have a nice day peeps..

Caged Bird

Plugged in, into the wilderness ..
Of unforgiving lock down..
Pain of a mother’s womb, ..
With birth cry..


Did she free a soul from..
Her umbilical cord ..
Only to be served on a plate of..
Acid ambitions..


Wings clipped, to be left standing,..
In birds cage, depreciating minds,..
Muscles in nightmares unending, ..
Redundancy..


Envy of the battery hen,..
For when she gave her life..
It was, to feed the masses..
Of queues, queued up at K F C ..


Plugged in, ..
 In veins connected to the machinery..
Of criminality..
A perpetual cycle of circles..


Judged and governed , ...
By the muddy fields, souls of greed..
Drinking from the same cup as I, of obscenity.. 
With Agents of their own..


Mine was to serve as a bird in a cage..
Fed to the underworld's, ..
Under belly of criminality..
With a locked look, of enchantment's hook..


And with my blood dripping of their gobs..
I was seduced,..
Caged, chained and sold ..
To the demons greed..




This poem was written, with the prison systems in the world in mind
and how, so many minds are wasted away, locked in cages
In America over 7.3 million people are in some form 
of incarceration, US Bureau of Justice  Statistics 2008

I Wish

I wish..
I wish, I could draw, in sketches, abstract ..
To have my feelings, expressed on canvas..
So my emotions and thoughts..
Would be seen by all, who could see..


I wish..
I could sing, songs in joyful melody..
To have had, my emotions and thoughts..
Heard across the land..
By all, who could hear a ballad..


I wish..
I could dance, a foxtrot, tango, a salsa..
To have expressed, in quick feet, 1,2 steps..
My emotions and thoughts..
Through the vibration, of the floor..


I wish..
I could walk, in matches, jogging, running..
To have walked, a thousand miles..
As an act of expressing..
My thoughts and emotions...


For now though..
When I am touched,.. 
I write, in vivid imagination.. 
To have my thoughts and emotions..
Read by all, all with a zeal for life.. 

Be You, Be Great

Be        Strong..

Be      Bold..

Be Great..

...

I see you, running through, that opened door

...

Be    Brave..

Be        Safe..

Be            Moved..

...

You, I  see, running towards your chosen path

...

Be          Proud..

Be          Nice..

Be    Free..

...

And with the will, to see your dreams, come true

....

Be   Happy..

Be         Careful..

Be                Honest..

...

But know, what grounds to stand on, jump on, in excitement joy

....

Be            Mannered..

Be          Advised..

Be        Wise..

...

Share with delight, what lessons learnt, on journeys path

...

Be     Opened..

Be      Welcoming..

Be           Inspirational..

...

Be you, Be wise, Be done, Be Great.. 
Be all that you can be, before the sun comes down...

She Is Royal

Her beauty, is of tulips..
Rain drops on tulips..
Lips with a diamond shimmer..
A twinkle of sparkling star, bright..
When she smiles..


From harmonic voice she speaks..
Oh, and when she does..
God! what sweetness in sounds delight..
Felt adored, blessed to hear, in melody..


For every man's dream..
Of sensuous simplicity..
A caring kind..
A night nurse..
And my battle-wounds..
Are wrapped in cotton wool..


From travels on distance lands..
She carried on a quest..
To arrive with a sent of incense..
In aromas of sweet delight, horizon..


Did I say she is Royal..
Well then I meant she is Royal..
Then, she did me a culinary delight..
My wet appetite, bon appetite..
She looked  up at me, and said good appetite..


Bless, did I say she is Royal..
Well then I meant, she is a Royal Queen..
To have dug  the earth, wiv bear hands..
On royal knees, in silk, became muddy silk.. 

To watch a tulip blossom ..
To find the keys, in allure, to my heart's den..
For, that is why, she is Royal..
When I say to men, she is Royal..

Made Men

And in nine months,..
A seed turns into a breather..
To be ushered into this world..
A new light, or be it darkness..
A gift, of some-sort, in kind..


And some are born by right..
Virtue, of their clan's standing..
To be, of wealth and Kingship..
In default setting..


Yet no man, tells in prophecy of the oracle..
Truly, what becomes of man, in foresight..
A new light or be it darkness...
To have rained upon earthly soils..


And the stories, told by the clairvoyant..
Of the commoner, changing his stand..
To become a royal, in the kingdoms, realms..
His forefathers, served in...
No words, heard from the true blood..


Stride, strive , said to be the brawn..
Gift, against procrastination..
That, which makes the soothsayer's..
Words, hold ground..


And the gift, was like a seed,..
That needed planting, watering,..
Nurturing,  to be harvested..
In made men..

Who done it

Chalices used,...
Sent, spreading around, words in circles
Like chariot races, in grapevine..


T' voices in stands, worships in carnage 
Do not differentiate t' poor from t' rich
Thumbs down, is always with a jeer..
From t'  masses, "Finish him!"..


And heroes are made of..
T'  man who took another's..
Gifted breath, gladiators...
Kill, kill, kill..


Still if to have,..
I rather, a sword fight,...
Face to face, with cuts,..
On butchered,  flesh, deep cuts..


Rather to have seen
 T ' man who done it,
Be mine, t' last he saw 
before, I laid down..
To rest, on butchered tables...


Than covered face, with mystery..
Of metal musk, who done it..
I am owed, that much..
I have to be, owed that much..


But symbolic, to that effect..
Caesar's greatest story, starts..
With “Who killed Caesar?”..
Buried from behind, who done it..


To bury a man, faced down..
Has never been acceptable..
But the snitch, is always squeamish..
Not for blood, but for the eye..


So he chooses, to look down..
I have to be owed, that much..
To know, who done it..
Seriously, who done it..


Why be, the informer, the one..
Protected, after being paid,..
The 30 silver coins, he itched for..
I am owed that much, to know..
Who done it..

Last Rights..

I have never held guns..
With sweaty palms..
At death's door, so close..


I have never seen a brethren..
Hung, wasted on muddy fields..
With nightmares horrors..
His last portrait painted..


I have never shouted out loud..
To queen and country..
And run to my death, shouting out louder..
“F**k off, die you bust**ds”..
To men who wish death upon me..


To awaken the night, screaming out..
The demons lay rest in me,..
In nightmare unending..
“Let go, of my soul, please!”..


Spend a fraction of my existence..
In alien lands, in alien breaths..
And become alien to my own land..
In strangers look..
“Hey! What you looking at?...
And they keep staring, gazing , looking..
Phantom sounds of the guns rage no body hears 
No body knows what I carry"


I know not who returned..
Bearing my face, in pretence..
I was still, left out there in desert lands..
Sat next to e' bleeder's staggered breath.. 
Who closed his eyes, in  last acts, screams..


And the voices in my head..
Looks out to civilians, in civilian's drama..
On home soil's comfort and say..
“What do they know”..
Ignorant with complaints..
“If only to shut them all up”..


For Queen and country..
Wished I had never step foot..
On desert soil, so dusty..


I was not wanted there..
And I wanted not to be there..
To be hooked on bewilderments..


Flashbacks in horrors, my daily battles..
Yet, I have never seen a brethren..
Hung, wasted on muddy fields..


I have never held a gun in sweaty palms..
For I am not a soldier, to know how that feels..
To know his pain 
To all the fallen men on battle fields..RIP

Status Quo

Do we set, in place measures..
To celebrate, on occasions..
To set our minds, to rest ..
On memoir’s memories of the unfortunate..
Deeds, that besiege us in utopia..
Sending shock waves, through the status quo ..


At times journeyed past..
Back into memory lane..
Unto the agony of being witness to..
The shivering of earth..

I saw the earth sneeze..
And men broke, like tooth picks..
In two, in Haiti..


I saw Haiti crumble, like bread crumbs..
North Sumatra followed..
Baja California, Mexico, laid suit..
And as in roll call, many others fell in line..


Mother earth had a shiver..
Once again we added, to the equation..
BP was not to be left out..
In 182.5 days, of the first half..
Dreams were laid bare ..


But on occasion set aside..
As the world gathered, and roared with joy..
Louder than, the Earthquake and Thunder..
Made silent, evoking the status quo in equilibrium..


On lands of the Vuvuzelas..
The Spanish went home, with the glory..
In poetic justices, of what drama ..
They have seen happen in tightening belts..


The economics fears, in austerity, ..
Will have to sit out, 
For this here celebration ..
Of life stories..

Winds on Candles

In creation, Aeolus lent a hand..
To forming corner stones of the elements..
Gaia and Poseidon together..
On spinning wheels made mould..
And Apollo shined a light..
To strengthen back bones..


This was before revelations genesis..
Deserts was known to creation..
Left grains on bare foot..


And from the east to the west..
The south to the north..
Pact once signed by gods..
Laid bare in forgotten lands..


In symbolic signs..
Lights laid sat on candle stands, nude..
Battling the very elements of creation..
Who laid siege and in choking breaths..


But for the fifth elements..
To have refused to die..
To fail, to surrender..
And strive, succeed, arise..
And lay claim to ownership of life..
Made Zeus from the very first breath..

The Greatest "Free verse"

I am the greatest, coz when I speak..
I spat out greatness, dateless, timeless..
Rated R, on scales, skills of infinite rhymness..
Still with flight paths in signs showing..


Believe me, like scriptures, lectures
Deck chairs sat, my default setting..
Sets me, on top of the average Mr Jo's peakness ..
God bless, nothing less, I am the best..
And that is just, in free rhyme, free style..
Free man, like play child, child play, spot the difference ..


Pi-lo-low pi-lo-low, is hide and seek..
Touch and burn, blink and you out..
Paper scissors rock, rock rock star; ..
You still have to choose one..
Show of hands; ..
You still have to pick one..


My instinct, is instant, like sneeze ..
In flows, prolifics, flotations ..
My pen wields knifes, like Spartans..
I leave none in doubt of my standing..


I am so good,..
I make good better best rhymes..
Sounds like, something like a dull rhyme..
From dullness and restless..
And may you never rest mate ..
Until you make a dent mate..


Is the harshness of life, in life realities..
Leaving you deluded, dazed, in delusion..
You breathless, spouting, gasping rest here..
This was built for a special case ..
And you my friend, you deemed, a special case ..


Do you still doubt my word play ..
I am from the 12 chambers of shaolin ..
I just shaved my hair off, off my head, off ma shoulders..
We dodge shooters, like dodge balls
And I am ready to climb trees, make hay..
 I know karate whooo haaaaaaaa..
Check mate, buddha Bless, Bless ..


“No harm was caused to any man or animal..
In writing this lines”..Just for jokes"..

Chaos Beauty

Do you see the beauty, gauged in chaos..
Ask the abstract painter..
And see if, the anarchist had followers..
Admirers, larger than the emperor did..


Seen as an outsider..
Worshipped as a hero died as one..
In Robin Hood as William Wallis..
Dialysis of analysis, in cases viewed..


And phoenix is after chaos..
To be made stronger..
Than before in aftermath..
With Islands named paradise..
After Volcanic eruptions..


So I let you in, into a little secret..
As Vincent Van Gogh..
Threw paint on brush in torment torture..
Ask the abstract painter..
If he knew a masterpiece..
Was to become of, doodling brush strokes..


And the potent of man..
Named in viagra, was a side effect that be..
So it came to be that..
Evolution demands of man..
I; to be of an eccentric nature, undefined..


To electrify and turn ideas ..
Switch lights on, in broad daylight 
Seeing the beauty gauged in chaos..
Did you see the elephant in the painting..