MY HEARTIST by M

I sit in ponder of my beloved

So far, the distance kills the heart

I cannot vent

I am mad at him

Who gave him the authority?

To anger me and be angry at I

And with the distance

Assault to injury

It kills the heart

Yet my soul yearns for he

In love

In fight

In fury

In anger
In frustration…Still

I submit

Funny

That in these fiery times my insides burn most for him

I miss thee

I burn in anger and desire

So far

The distance kills the heart

I close my eyes

O my beloved is here

Staring at me

In my fiercest fumes

I want to burst…I want to charge…oh I should explode

And yet

Am halted

But how can I?

The exuberance of his charms won’t let me

Assuredly, he moves towards me

Am confused

My bosom heaves, uncontrollably, pleasurably

I miss you

His gaze fixates upon my eyes

Am bathed in calmness

His arms tightly but gently devour my body

I coil senselessly in submission

I totter in his intoxicating embrace

I blink

He lain me down, sunset reflecting in his eyes

The passion in them ignites my body, my desires

I want you

I tremble in his lips’ tender traces upon mine

Oh that…that I do miss, my heartist

The dexterity of your craftsmanship

Nay

Squirm not over spills and splurges of your shades on my surface

This canvas thirsts

Insatiable of your paint

Worry not of broken and of misplaced brushes

For the skills on thy digits is enviable

Alas! How they tickle

How they stir these nervous nerves

How they paint the corners and edges of this canvas’ curves

Your art on me is impeccable

When you work on this plane

Undesirables turn orgasmic

It is such

In breaking my heart

I would care less

You ponder why?

Well

Our fate, to be or not to be

Pieces of mine shattered heart form a mosaic of your face

Juxtaposition in thought

Of my love against your selfishness

Unfaithfulness

Disloyalty

Egotism

Anger

Disavowal

It don’t matter how far

Nor the distance

Every air you exhale

I feed my desire in its inhalation

Devoid of, I succumb

Nay

Its not obsession

Simply

The loves that burns for you

That the eloquence of words cannot quench

It refuses to die

Its destiny

For he know not the depths of my love

O reader,

If ye cometh across my beloved

Doth pass my word

That I deservedly declare

‘I am your canvas

Paint your love on me'


I received this poem from my girlfriend, so much I want to say about this piece. I wont, instead I'll say thank you, I am glad I am forgiven, loved and missed. I love you and I am honored you love me this much. I am yours; you are mine.

#100daysofblogging #Day11

unto the uttermost

“Once you learn how to die, you learn how to live.”

Quote: Mitch Albom, Tuesdays with Morrie

Sometimes its not about going by all the rules,

Its about bending some

Getting the results done

For when they said to the donkey 

just lie down and die

He heard not and kept shaking dust off his back

the faster they shoveled the faster he shook it off

I was from a long journey, I could barely muster strength for the stairs home. I was reminded by the inner voice that today is the tomorrow all procrastinators thought wouldn't come yesterday.  Inch by inch I will grow my yard.

#100daysofblogging #day7

juvenile delinquent

Life has been unfair to me

This can’t be all I was intended to be

Doesn’t this life hold much more?

Can’t I make it out of this hole?

I am 16 years old

I want new clothes

New shoes

I want a phone!

Why would my parents not provide?

I can find ways to make things work

This nonsense that surrounds me must stop

I am tired of my poverty

I am enraged by my struggles

I shall make it out

By any means

I picked an axe from my neighbor’s farm

I exchanged it for meat and ham

The butcher doesn’t know

Neither does my mum

I need a bigger take

I am 18 years for God’s sake!

I nicked car headlights outside the mosque

Four headlights for thirty smokes

That is a good deal no?

 I am making my name hello!

And twenty years that may not be so bad a show

I have just received a briefcase of gold

From a white man who was shaken and old

I stood straight took instructions and strutted out bold

I am a go-between

From me to the big man across the creek

This is the big break I seek

I am twenty two years

My future doesn’t have to look so bleak

I moved up the ladder

Got a gun and I rule wider

I have my own sixteen, eighteen, twenty and twenty two year olds

But I will not live to tell my tale

For at twenty four

I hear the knocks on my mother’s door

I had come to upcountry to lay low

But someone must have mouthed.

For tomorrow I will be no more

I am a thief.

written with a 16yo thief, I encountered to day, in mind. May this 16 year old make better choices before life chooses the sequence for him.

#100daysofblogging #Day 6

p.s: I lacked an appropriate photo...

naked banana

I found it where I seldom searched

In between worlds

Expectancy and a lady with a spanner

It was the words

Then the recollection

I needed no other invite

I was completely naked

Bereft of spirit

Of fight

Of escape

I could have run

I choose instead to stay

I felt like a banana out of its skin

With a bitter taste within

Like I had regurgitated it from my spleen

I was naked and excited

For it had been almost 8 years searching

Just trying to figure out what this was

That was

Those were

I felt like Columbus on his final voyage

It was definitely a Eureka! ala Archimedes

It was exciting

It was confusing

It was convicting

As naked as a banana out of its skin

I took a bite

This I want to see

What really lay within…..

needed only a fruit: I have an orchard

I set out in search of a fruit

I was hungry

Disturbed and inquisitive

I needed to learn

To find a reason why

So I set out in search of a fruit

A splendid ripe fruit

That held the proverbial knowledge

A whole truth of sorts

I searched for something to numb the brain

To silence the questions

To drown the echoing cries

The incessant disbelief

The agonizing detest

I set out searching for a fruit

Believing that I would know it when I found it

I am now the owner of an orchard

Fruits abound at every corner

I found my answer long ago

But my wisdom was lost in all the fruity tastes

Now my answer lies within the bounds of this orchard

But I have not the wisdom to search for it again

I am content that I can look after my fruits the tasting holds no more pleasure in me