if i stopped writing
would you care
would you bare your hands to the sun
and let them bleeed words
would you guide my pen onto paper
or would you let me disappear
into oblivion
a toilet wall philosopher
flushed away with the tissue
at the end of the sesssion!!!!!!!!

Challenge

Just to remind myself i went back to the first entry of this blog. And was reminded of what the objective of this blog was. i had gone through a slump in my artistic endeavours and had for some reason stopped writing and stopped painting...like i have done again. so i decided to start this blog as a little project to help me get started. i set a challenge for myself that i will write/paint or do something creative every single day. i will then post all that i have been doing everyday. i figured if i have an audience i will feel kinda obligated to perform and it will push me to do better. so here we go....the challenge is back on and i will try to stick to it for more than just a couple of days this time

on that note the piece for today
its unfinished by the way...but i feeln like i want to share this we you

Dear Dad

I have wanted to write this for so long
What yopu did was just so wrong
And I'm not talking about you leaving
Or for half the time pretending I dont exist
Mama always pushing me "go see him, he is your Father" she'll insist
I'll stand for hours at the taxi rank
Waiting for you to come pick me up
Never showing up was just so easy for you
But that is not my beef with you
I have laid in pillow puddles of tears
Not coz of your passing(i am at peace with that)
Or the countless unkept promises
But coz you are not there
and i need you so much right now

take me

take me
push me against a page
and have your way with me
rub me against your soul
and play with me
tease me with your love
and excite me

pin me against my heart
and strip me bare
take me
take your hand and feel me
feel every inch of my soul
and how it longs to be whole
feel how you fit perfectly
in all the empty holes
take me

Mornin people...


be sure to look out for my nxt piece- will post it later today

i don't know
if i love words
or the sound of the pen
as it scribbles on a page
or maybe i am addicted
to the intoxicating smell of ink
or the repetitive click
of the keyboard
as i type each piece out
or maybe i am a voyeur
who likes to watch
as one syllable caresses the other
enticing the reader
to read on and on and on
i don't know
if i love words
or the sound they make
when they come out
i don't know if i love words
or the tingling sensation i get inside
when one follows the other at the right time

good day all

i have neglected this blog for a while and feel like a bad parent well not anymore..les-T is back

Yesterday came to a screeching end with zero production. i dont know what is worse , me being lazy or plastering it on a blog for all to see


Please do stop and stare
I do care!
Please do stop and stare
I am not like you
I also don’t like you
I don’t look like you
I don’t talk like you
I don’t walk like you
Yes my pants sag
I know my hair makes you want to gag
Do comment about my music
I like it loud
Even though it makes you sick
My nose is wide
My lips thick
No one wears it quiet like me
My complexion tanned
My skin thick
Your insults bounce off me
Please do stop and stare
I am not like you
Please do stop and stare
I do care
It affirms our differences
Our emperors wear different fragrances
Their robes from different designers
Mine from the sweat of miners
Yours from the blood of minors
So please do stop and stare
I do care
Stop and stare at these hands
They not stone throwing
But mind blowing
Every time you clutch your purse a bit tighter
I grow a bit mightier
So please do stop and stare
I do care

questions

someone please tell me. do i write for my own sanity or is it to please my audience? Is my pen an extension of me? is my brush just an accessory?Everytime i struggle with a poem its because i read it and ask myself will my readers like it, will they relate? seldom i ask myself if it reflects how i truely feel inside



Is it that poets
Write in the dark
And recite with their eyes closed
On a stage with broken glass
No. I will pass the microphone
To the next
Baggy pants wearing
Rebel with a backpack
Let him hang himself
With his string
Of uneven words
And his poorly constructed verse
Come tumbling down on him
Like the twin towers
On deaf ears
Chained to format
And slaves to a rhyme scheme
And so
As his voice breaks
Over the sound system
So does his limbs
And his heart beckons
“Say something!”

Between meaning and pride
Hand betrays heart
Life imitates art
Heart overwhelms mind
On a quest
For inner peace to find
The illusion of life
Starts to seem real
The mirage goes on overkill
You can’t ignore the pain
As you long to love again
Then it hits you
Like petrol soaked rags
In a Molotov cocktail
And the after-burn
Leaving behind
The elusive stench
Of inspiration
When
For once
The artist
Is the subject

tribute to my ex

Forever is a very long time
And time has a way of changing things
They told me
And it rings true
When I think of the times me and you
Used to take long walks
Through taxi ranks and shacks
Whilst holding hands
And thought it was romantic
Then things got hectic
And you told me
You don’t love me
Anymore

But baby remember the time
We were dripping in sweat
Me inside you
You inside me
You said love
I said love
And we made love
Promised forever
Forever will be together

Remember the times
We used to fight and reconcile
Kiss and make up
We put it down in poetry
Called it
‘Bliss this misery’
And laughed about it

I hate the memories these grey skies bring
It was raining when I bought you that ring
Asked you to be my wife
And you couldn’t imagine life
Without me

But baby you should’ve told me
That your forever was just 2 years
And spared me the tears
The heartache
And headaches the after
You should’ve told me
That the ‘we means us’
These vows were written on water
And spared me the bullshit forever after

You could’ve spared me
The money I used
To buy that symbol of ‘our love’
That you so conveniently lost
Do you know how much that ring cost?

You could’ve spared me
The embarrassment and humiliation
Of having to tell my parents
We have broken up
Three days before kentsa magadi
Imagine ragadi
Looking at me with those big eyes
Asking me what happened
And I couldn’t answer

You could’ve spared me
The ‘aagh shame Joe are you ok’
I got from my boys
Who didn’t know what else to say

You could’ve spared me
But you didn’t
Now I had to find me peace
Through poetry
Like we said
'Its bliss this misery'

You were my Goddess
And I guess
I was just Icarus
Who flew too close to the sun!