DOES NOT MAKE ME BRAVE.

Looking for underlying reservations;

Searching for issues that may surface,

There aren't any! why be suspicious?  

Been too long in the habit of conflicting

energies, harmony's come but one is 

stifled, at regular times of inspiration 

when 'no' is said repeatedly, an obstacle 

appears in ones nature, blocked ideas cannot 

find emotional release or a positive outlet

for all to see, while being held in a closet not to be seen,

Just a need to be heard with ones time

in discourse is all that's necessary for letting off steam,

And as for this phase of serenity I've entertained apathy, 

Far from the courts of wellbeing's need;

Harmony in ones self so fancy free,

is marred by the shadow self's dealings, 

Nick pickings of conscience that something's

afoot as blindness walks over rational mental

pages of ones personal book,

to disrupt the self and discourage creative ferver

into pangs of doubt  while wearing old boots, past

reference pushes one down to take a second look,

Insecurity, vulnerability dances again,

Kept hidden from watchful eyes and a loved one's gaze,

I prod myself into an enforced haze, 

of freedom, mentally running away 

wallowing intently in a creative maze,

Plucking up the courage to start, 

Revving the motors in strength of attitude 

honed like a shiny, magnificent new car, 

Proud without influence sure like a mage,

For in this harmony rattling my cage,

This breath of transient, good effect in reverie

Does not make me brave!

 

IN THE QUIET.

I stroll home in the quiet,

Lost in the embers of the evening's light,

Dusk flies swiftly swallowed by night,

I look up to see the universe glisten,

And imagine the clusters of galactic bodies

pulsating in activity fueling cosmic fusion,  

Stars hang shining, beacons created eons of 

light years away reach here now for us to see 

showing a play in mysterious stella illusion,  

For their light is a pure reflection of truth,

Reflections of their history frozen as proof  

Yet, for every one of those satellites... 

it is assumed, our soul is connected to.

I slowly look down aware of the ground

back into the self to earth's might, 

I cross a reflective bridge footprints leave  

impressions of this day written in time,

Never to come again this day slowly dies 

Whilst the universe hums and strums its

eternal tune in the quiet, to revitalize! 

LAYERS.(2)

And still the unpredictable expounds,

The unexpected burns its curse through 

hallowed ground,

The illusion of the tides that life bleeds,

Belches glam fab styles that tingle taste buds, 

spraying the air in its odour as ambition

breathes ceaselessly,

Caught in the times we thrive on fears,

And strive full pelt for successful years,

Whilst purpose lies strangled and the soul

cries in disarray,

Health gets discarded along many highways,  

We're victims programmed to circumstance prone to 

make or break, 

Born we are with nothing and buried in the same state.

     

DOORS.

We enter through doors,

Into unknown futures,

Clasp to the new, potential shores, 

The present, forgotten, is forlorn,

What ifs, dance merrily as we trudge the windy moors,

Hope, is the only anchor we can be sure of, 

Faith abides doubtless in the mystics law, And 

what the soul brings, free will, will shake its foundation

trembling, whilst treading on floors unsure,

2010 comes teasing, it's a long veiled tunnel as 

the dice is thrown through every issue in every port,

We trundle through distorted seasons searching for  

meaning, striving until 2011 opens its fated door, 

Heralding in a new current for deeply impressive scores.

FRUSTRATION.

It saps the thoughts from purpose,

It stifles the spirit from comfort,

It gratifies tension with irrational

feeling,

It drives the will into impatience.

Irritation is the prime deposit,

It makes one grasp at a force, to 

speed up rewards of motivation,  

It brings, melancholy nervous energy

for aims unchased.

The clarity embraced is in its 

achievement to stagnate,

It succeeds in instigating the success of 

making unforgettable and regrettable 

mistakes!

A SHORT ENCOUNTER.

A quiet within a storm,

To make the most of a

chance before it's gone,

A situation, precious in its norm,

But lasting only for a not enough more.

Relating to a sensitive view, 

A common fact that in tranquil's mood,

Comes a whirlpool of a social soothe,

Essential for an inward, emotional bloom.

While pressure sensitive busting at the seams

in world crisis full steam ahead, news brings,

The option of wisdom ceases to breathe, 

At times in the presence of conventional need

wisdom gasps for light to be seen.

A quiet within a storm,

In the remotest place far from the madding swarm,

of gurgling strain,to meet the pressures that hold 

again and again.

The joyful reliance of quiet's domain,

To catch serenity in its naked state,

That's worth the time of calm to wait!

 

    

THESE DAYS.

Is there a solution

To the mending of the ozone?

Is there a reason found

To radical climate change

Over the globe?

Is there a solution

To the ever spiraling eco cyclone,

Problems, like the deforestation in the

Amazon basin or the extinction of bees 

breaking chains of cycles known.

Are these days 

The knell of all life's journey home.

Is there a solution

To stop terror and be free?

Is there a way to stop 

The irreversible ghost of nuclear tapestry?

Is there a concept connecting, what appears 

As an insoluble, troubled climate of world 

affairs with sacred spirituality?

Is it gone, reverence for life, the pursuit to look 

after this world, to be happy?

Are these days, paving the ways to inevitability?

Technology, the harbinger of major change and

fast forward progression, will it enlighten and 

bring in a glorious age housing deep sensibility?

Are these day's signs set in stone that eventually 

shall set man, good, bad and indifferent, free?

Only time knows!

LEVELS.

Wisdom is granted to one,

One cannot earn it.

Love does not impose itself,

But one would be a fool to

Ignore it.

Knowledge is the fruit of Angels,

So learn wisely and adorn it.

And what we have and all 

What we confirm is here,

So search, have and enjoy it. 

THE TRIALS OF HARMONY.

Let me roam carefree

In thoughts open space,

Let me sight the knowledge

That's for me to taste,

Let me do the things

That's for me to chase,

So I can be in harmony 

With you.

Let me ride those chances

to make ends meet,

Let me reach true facts

To secure our needs to

Goals free,

Let me heed the way

To affinity,

So I can share myself 

With you.

The enchantment of it all

Is the work towards giving,

The message is in its commitment

To fulfill what is missing,

The rewarding pains to joy

Bring boundless pleasure

That stipulates a mention,

To spark sound intention,

For flawless ploys.

Let me touch upon

life's unselfish grounds,

Let me talk in ways

That bring trouble-free and 

Stress-less sounds,

Let me tread the pathway

Without pressure etched in my brow,

So I can be at one with you.

  

ONE OF THOSE MOMENTS.

Relaxing in the tracks 

Of comfort.

The insatiable desire to 

Be by the fire,

Self indulgence into its 

Red light,

Stimulating the present

With gentle thoughts,

Not to be disillusioned

With outside forces

Except the auras in the context

To which peace is felt,

Added attractions 

To the misty warmth,

Part ownership welcomed by

One who cares,

Saving grace for moments 

Impaired.

SPECIAL TIMES.

I may not say it often,

Yet I'm filled with 

Appreciation,

Excuses can set 

False thoughts in motion,

So I wait, 

To brave expressing my 

Sentiments.

Emphatic is passion

Sometimes,

I want to shower you with

Praise, as if tomorrow

Has surely died,

Constantly I'm inclined, 

To tell of joy that won't be 

Shoved and pushed aside.

But I fall short; 

Without giving a thought

To flexing my pride,

And so I decline, 

Reserved in coming forward to say 

'I Love You,' At those special times. 

  

SPLENDOUR.

Do I deserve you.

For you've given

The greatest of all

Splendour,

Your love without

wanting anything else, 

But myself,

Without the frills,

Without labels,

Without the glamorous

Trappings of the 

Material world,

Without impressions

That achievements,

Prestigious prizes confer,

Without status, power 

Recognition, or those

Prosperous concerns,

That resumes gauge   

For solutions of worth.

Without all these, you've given

Without the rod coming first,

So natural your disposition, 

The Splendour of life's mirth.

 

TRAIN SENSE.

The rhythmic arrival of the train

The impatience fulfilled

By the opening of the doors;

The complex walk of persecution

To the favourite seat.

The inspection given for what is worn

To conclude how you are by the people opposite;

The pretence not to notice,

And to take a look at the map

Above the window.

Impatience sets in for brief seconds;

Along way to go

The maps reckoning;

The train's on its way.

Cigarette ends decorate the floor;

A tramp's free ride

Living it high on a bottle of wine;

Singing a drunks lullaby.

Long faces dominate;

Young kids write poems and graffiti on the walls

To accentuate their fun:

All classes have their place

In the same space in the carriage.

Looking at each person individually,

Seeing the kind of life they lead.

Destination has come for me

To leave the social abbreviations of the train. 

NEVER ASK WHY.

Never ask, ''Why?,

We are.

Never ask,

''Why we are?''

Why ask?

We are.

We are never!

Ask, ''Why?''

Never ask,

''Why are we?''

''Why are we?''

Never ask.

Why ask?

''Are we?''

Never ask why.

WE ARE!

EVERY MOMENT COUNTS.

A new second, a new minute,

A new hour. A new day,

A new night. A new week,

A new month, a new year.

A new spring, a new summer,

A new autumn, a new winter.

The novelty of the new is never shown,

We live life as if we wear an old overcoat,

Wearing it through until it's time to go,

Taking for granted time, in excess,

Appreciation's accepted for events not met,

Stimulated by the wait for future gains;

The precious seconds go by in vain,

Because we are asleep in our waking state,

Until something jogs the numbing streams,

That keeps us from realizing the importance

Of need, in every ounce of life we breathe,

We ask the time at those times we see.

And a feeling of wasted moments creeps in,

Before we unknowingly continue to sleep back into living.

  

WHAT'S YOURS IS SAFE.

I watch television with you. At times 

When we float into natural quietude,

I experience the depth you consume,

That private place of serenity, Which 

Spills over a tonic of amorous cream,  

Caressing my heart to put me at ease.

Then, a sense of self-consciousness

Breaks the silence, a gentle discussion 

Ensues. Our personalities are back to a 

Familiar state. Back to the room, resume the gait! 

All's in tact! Nothing's let slip for one to lose... 

As the television takes over our vision is glued.

Nervous reactions play? Shutters are down: 

Is this, ones defence guarding sacred ground, 

Hiding deep, unseen love from view?  

Unspoken whispers hurriedly reassure, saying: 

'There was no need to worry, what's

Yours is safe with you.' Still,

You allowed me to touch your beauty,

Yes, I only touched your truth.

YOU COLOUR MY LIFE.

No matter how much control,

I desire to keep, not letting go

Of my quality of self and soul,

Cultural make-up and all I've

Grown to know,

Loves careless air slices deeper

Than the sharpest knife,

Without which, Could I survive?

To keep parts of self from show

Can never suffice 

Because, no matter what,

 You colour my life. 

 

GRATITUDE.

God gave me Sherhimself,

The earth, the whole

Universe around it and within,

The wonders of life,

And eventually the beauty of death.

What could I ever give back in return?

Myself,

My existance,

Being here.

DO I HAVE TO GO.

Do I have to go,

Down Life's dusty road,

To walk the palm of fates hand,

Or, is this my will saying so.

Who chooses what is in store for us?

To be tested by crisis until no more,

Conformed to the way of the master plan;

Reaping all for a prize to last whilst 

Weathering the storms,

And bending your mind below this dusty land,

Shoes tread longing for so long become tired  

And worn.

Making sacrifices for smooth roads,

Traveling for a peaceful heart, comfort of mind

While the wind blows; me like a grain

Of sand to be constantly sown.

SIDE EFFECTS.

Sleep you hours,

In the wake of my storm,

The fiery furnace that towers,

Bends a welcome stifling the sun

Whilst my soul doth mourn.

Like a metronome:

The seconds tick away in silent space,

Caged in the quarries of time 

They cannot escape.

I bear their grudges.

Creeping out beneath the slush and grime,

That thoughts imprint in my mind,

A sloth would have a better time,

And not take upon itself the guilt that lies,

In the convicted seconds and minutes of 

The side effects of insanity's rise.

Sleep you hours, 

In the coldness of my waking sleep,

Because when you wake, joy will be there

To appreciate and to greet.

TOUCH TALK.

Touch talk:

Speaking loud,

Resonance, without a note of sound,

Pitched into vibrant feel tone,

Emotion, affection, compassion and so,

Negative or positive

Touch without touch,

Most of all through the eyes

A synthesized plight; not enough,

Maybe false impressions, maybe not,

Infatuation says, not a lot!

But softly lingers to an abrupt painful end,

Sometimes maturing, if you like playing games,

Touch talk from illusion

Mind at the key,

Mirrors of fantasy

Initiative screams,

Experience has burnt a finger again,

This time listen to what the inner voice says.

Touch talk:

Magnetism, gravitation, charisma, personality,

Touch talk without touching,

But forever talking are we!  

BEYOND WORDS.

Silently you slumber in the late hours,

I glance to see you composed in solace,

You exude its calming power,

I slip away out of the door

Quietly, to ventures I undertake,

And reflect back to you sleeping 

As I sit motionless on the mainline train.

I think of love for you, she calms my soul,

And in this crowded carriage people are talking 

Loudly, especially those on their cellphones.

But I do not hear their words because I'm in 

A space where nothing can intrude;

For love has placed me in her special place, 

Whilst thinking, suspended in this moment  

Of grace for you. And she chases away distractions;

So as I with clarity, can settle myself to contemplate 

In her amorous perfume.

So sensitive I feel. Why? Is this a brief pause or a 

Prolonged phase,  for a deepening of my heartfelt state?

If I were to tell you the extent of my emotion 

It would be that you'd know my Achilles heel,

Cannot think why, today, I find difficulty saying, 

Projecting what is so beautiful and real.

They say: Love is courage and strength, 

And on it, one can surely depend,

But I feel weak, irritated by reticence at the lack of will to spend.

Is it a chill in the air blowing frost onto Saturn's frown? 

For behind these words I earnestly shed my gown,

And if spoken, substance of meaning would sadly fall down,

Chancing that course, I leave alone for now,

For grounded, I do not want to be at this time 

Not while holding my emotions cradled in this nebulas cloud.

Vulnerability tests my heart and charms my wake,

I stress this view far from any woeful mistake,

Not proud keeping concealed my truth for ego's sake,

So I travel this day bereft of strength to harness my lake,

Of love for you, beyond words; beyond the beauty of snow 

And her delicate existance of patterned flakes.

Love uttered would only seem to serve me less, 

For receptive moods may not be that, one needs to expect

And to seek, to be consoled at levels from love words said, 

A subtle fear creeps: Is it that love I feel is all my spiritual and 

Earthly life with you my love, and without you, my spiritual death? 

THE CALMING.

I'd touched on my warrior spirit.

The stallion is swift to discern;

When others disrespect your 

Kindness, my warrior emotion 

Comes forth with concern.

I react when you are challenged, 

By others thick-skinned,

Self-serving pushy 'wants,'

And without any time; something 

Taps me inside saying:

'You're judging and not being a sport,

Calm down; it's not as bad as you thought!'

REFERENCES.

Storybook memories

From the quiet corners of

the past.

Never full chapters;

But pieces of a puzzle that

Needed to be put together,

An inseparable tonic between 

Then and now.

Willing to forget the feeling

Of bad times with a joke 

And a smile;

The good times become  

A heavenly while,

They're instruments of fate;

For future to relate,

And personal journeys to be 

Reshaped. 

TO HAVE, TO HAVE NOT.

Warmed by its fragrance,

Enchanted by its presence,

Soothed by its aroma,

Gripped by its flow,

Shaken by its power;

Soft as a flower,

Lighting up the existance

Of a personality known.

Some do, some don't

Have its shine,

It never lies:

No-one has the power to

Take it away or make it hide,

It's something that's noticed

If one likes it or not,

One would say: everyone's

A star,

But, it's a quality superstars 

Unknowingly give off.

The gift essence of a special

Personality, captured in charisma

And charm, which only they have 

But most have not!  

EAVES DROPPING.

I hear you talking 

In your sleep,

What do you think?

What do you see?

Do I ever wander

In your dreams?

And if I do.

What kind of stories,

What kind of movies,

What kind of scenes

Do you see ourselves in?

You won't tell me, will you.

Because when you wake

It becomes an intimate 

Secret that is forgotten:

I hear talking in your

Sleep. Again. 

BE MY GUEST.

Be my guest,

Just; for a while,

As I bathe in the presence 

Of you reminiscing and wandering wiles.

Lost in the bounds of a cosy occasion,

The orange fire murmurs the contented

Relation,

Laughs and smiles:

Nothing really said,

Just polite conversation to bring pleasant 

Moments to one's head,

A simple pastime; soon to come to a tired

And treasurable end,

Be my guest;

At least for a few moments,

Before I go to bed!

HERO'S AND CHAMPIONS.

    (THE WORLD CUP 2010).

The beautiful game,

Burns a new flame,

A landmark in history

Gracing all with its fame.

South Africa's poised, in

Great splendour's boat,

Crowned wearing the cloak,

As the year's world cup host,

Heralding new promise, unity

Empathy and hope.

Pride of a continent opens

Her doors,

Welcoming nations to her 

Colourful land, eventful skies 

And exotic shores.

May the games begin,

May the best team win.

Hold the torch high

Let its legacy ring;

As each country's flags fly

Silently, the winds of hope sings,

For all teams are Hero's and 

Champions indeed!

This magnificent occasion gives 

Joy to our lives,

And shows countries can come

Together through love of a kind.

And the beautiful game;

With its power and strength,

Involves us to cheer, cry and

Represent,

And share in its heritage with all

Honour and respect,

To simply be a part of is a blast,

In the world's most beautiful event! 

LOVE IS FULL.

Deeply, passion stirs the emotion,

Pulsating near the surface of its own accord,

This unfathomable essence;

Defying conception, ever knocking my

Inner door, whispering intently:

'I feel for you completely.'

Beyond the tapestry of thought,

Which my words fail miserably to convey:

I try to grasp its warmth,

But feeble, is the attempt of delivery's court,

Because limited is my skill in this form;

And yet, expression I'm compelled to sought. 

I'm captured, consumed by its play 

Reducing care to nought of its intensity;

Its brevity, its uncompromising ecstasy,

Which ebbs without measure through me as

If the bliss of eternity has found a niche 

Flowing through this vessel physically. 

Its your presence here of being, 

All natural, manner and pattern of qualities that 

Is you, 

And how you are and move.

Unafraid and full, in the gaze of what I cannot see:

Its like not seeing a full breeze blowing, knowing

The strengths of breath it breathes. 

For what I feel, doubt cannot offend, is now truly 

In bloom,  

Love at its finest and deepest for you!  

DAWN TO DAWN.

At the dawn of life,

The world was a glow.

By morning,

The wind and the waters flowed.

At midday of life,

Plants grew and birds sang

And animals came to rule the land.

In the afternoon of life,

Man had been born,

To separate its life from the natural spawn.

By mid-afternoon,

Man thought he knew best;

Harmonys become a discordant jest.

At the evening of life,

Man had reached no cure for his ills,

But signed his will, for the seeds of tomorrow 

Ever evolving still.