Tag Archives: poetry



Sometimes I am afraid of change not because of fear for the task ahead

But because of my comfort of a habit.

A comfort of staying in what I know as oppose to cross over the line of the unknown.

I stayed in infectious romantic relationships too long because of my tendency to hold on.

Now that I am looking at it, I was holding on too falling straws just like Mr. Piggy’s house.

Experiences taught me when the red flags come, do not feel with my heart but let my head do the talking.

I say to you reading, when you see the red flag MOVE into action. When you stay you give the deceiver more grounds to convince of their green pasture when it is a mess of rotten decaying habits underneath.

Its ok, if the cloudy murk of life gets darker over the horizon at first. Life is not all about dazzling sunsets/sunrise all the time.

Embrace the change, free your mind of clutter. Let your brain breathe sanely again.

Ignore the naysers who want you to stay in an unhealthy environment. Cut them off if they will not quit their tirade for you to stay.

If your break up is with family, it is one of the hardest blows. But ask yourself “are they willing to move mountains for me as I do for them?”

Let that question guide you, family is a support system, if you are not breaking the law or disrespectful to them, why do you tolerate their constant breaking of your spirit. You let them continue and you will be swimming in a sea of decaying cesspool. Your mind and heart will play a game of Tom and Jerry until you explode in insanity.

If your workplace atmosphere is cantankerous and calmly talking to individuals including supervisors does not help, as soon as you get another position MOVE.

When you stay in mess, you become a mess and messy people most times do messy things.

How long before you snap, breaking your fragile twig mental capacity into a flood of no return.

Embrace change before it is too late.


What/Why I Love


Your non-physical touch unfolded my heart like a flower in the beginning of bloom.

You made me responsive and hungry for your love just as a bee sucking the attractive nectar.

I remember when I felt that small yawning inside, too nervous to think about it, let alone admit it.

Then came the Lion roaring in my chest and it scared the daylights out of me like the sun dipping over the horizon.

I remember when I first met you, dealing over the affairs of History. I was too busy sorting out the loose ends of our project to notice you but when I did, boy oh boy did I  love what I heard.

Like Jojo “I am a sucker for a guy with a beautiful mind” and you were that man.

Our minds dance over ideas and debates of politics, history, family and religion. Our discussions became food, an insatiable delight.

I suspect my head fell for you before my heart, a heart that you once ask me to follow.

It is a puzzle, like Charlotte in a web I wrote my heart on my sleeves without realizing my actions.

My heart cried bullets of despair when I caught how far my ship sailed into your harbour. I gave so much without any discussion of exclusivity.

Your name was always in my head along with a goofy grin when I recall something you said and/or did.

Your stubbornness collided into my stubbornness into a boiling pot of too much comfort with each other

Although time has faded the urgency of feelings your essence still hugs my being. I no longer beat up myself for thinking of you. It is what it is…

Prompt Storm 11: Why/Why I love


He Is In My Skin


Source: Fragonard, Jean-Honoré La déclaration d’amour via commons.wikimedia.org

Out of all the apples, rotten and good, my heart chose you.

Out of all the soul ties begging for connection, my soul craved your spirit.

Out of all the wandering minds our intellects vine into a combustion.

It is there you left the fragments of your explosion,

scattered over all my skin.

You sunk into my pores and every cleaner cannot get you out.

Years of separation does not erase your road map of memories,

even when you were my second, my heart puts you first.

This week on Prompt Storm is Free Association Writing, Megan encouraged us to pen something without the aid of a prompt and He Is In My Skin came out even when I tried to suppress the thought many times. To be honest, I hate and love that feeling at the same time. Urgghh!


I Woke Up Like This [A Sedoka]

Naked Woman

Source: photo of Daniel Murtagh for Magpie Tales Prompt

Bemused, curled in

sheets eyes closed- remembering.

Down south made fingers closed


Exhausted – more sleep

Naked to the bone, hair sprawl

untamed, evidence.


My interpretation of the above photograph for Magpie Tales  Weekly Prompt.

Thank your reading. What is your take on the image above. Tell me in the comment section below.

Mosquito in My Bed


Mosquito Buzzing In My Head

Source: wikipedia.org

There is a mosquito who waits for me every night in my bed.
Always with the need for unwanted pillow talk.
When I protest the bitch feels the need to buzz my head
until I feel a volcano raising. It is stalk-
ing me, buzzing close, buzzing from afar.
I try to clap B to death, my ad- hoc
plan fail, the creature only buzz louder. Tsar
mosquito, King in my throne. Hear it mock
me to the point where I feel a change like a flare star,
my colour changing to crimson murder, I refuse to balk
to a usurper! That mosquito will come up missing and dead.

Lick You Wet [ An Elegy]


SourceSalon de l’agriculture 2011 – Vanille de Tahiti via commons.m.wikipedia.org

Vanilla, I could remember licking,
tasting, savouring and sighing.
Why did you squeal on me, told my
obsession to my conscience.
I miss your comfort and your smooth texture
and your orgasmic waves on my tongue.

Your scent is like none other in desserts.
How do you get my nose to smile
and my teeth to dance
and my hips to widen, you naughty you.
Or your perfect temperature, cold for hot days
and cold for times of misery.

Such times you are better than these suckers and
Tender on a delicate aching throat
and gentle on the stomach
and just right on my teasing mind to eat more
and more and you were always available
and I scream for you.

Day 8 of Poetry class and the Elegy comes along. I choose to focus on an Elegy of longing since the prompt is ‘flavour.’ I covered or I think I did three stages: sorrow, admiration and solace without any set meter or rhythm, since it is not a traditional topic. I also included the literary device of enumeratio, I notice it quickens my pace to read  many ‘and’ in one sentence.

I leave you withDay 1, Day 2,Day 3,  Day 4, Day 5 , Day 6 and Day 7


Can you guess  the dessert of my Ballad? I would like to hear your answers down below.


Straight Street: Rough Waters [ A Ballad]

It is Rough In Those Streets

Rough Seas

Decaying network of evil, see them
breathe their diseased work on the
ideal impressionable young yoke.
Family values are weak from assaults
day in and week out from terrible gossip.

When weed is your best friend,
the deed is almost done. Help!
Is that the keys, handed down to
Eve, to multiply fruits to torture others?
Who made those community legal?

Stop, you cannot weasel your way
through my needle of choice.
Please, leave my different ways, different.
Let me be, be me. Free to choose only three
as friends because mama said 3 is a crowd
and I just want to stay out of trouble.

Day 7 of WordPress poetry class with the ‘Ballad.’ For our prompt today, Neighbours  and the literary device ‘Assonance.’ My poem speaks on my interpretation of the place, I call community. Sadly it is a negative but the truth shall set me free, yes free indeed.

As always, I leave you with the other poems from class: Day 1, Day 2,Day 3,  Day 4, Day 5 and Day 6.


I leave you with a question: Do you live in a neighbourhood where you notice a slow decay (people mannerisms etc), does it bother you? Would you mind telling me about it, in the section below?

A Found Poetry

Chiasmus Example For Found Poetry

Source: Rudyard Kipling’s Commonplaces via Public Domain

I have tried to figure out a Found Poetry using the Chiasmus literary device for many hours and nothing seems to work. I am just going to upload the rough work which barely shows a Chiasmus example. If I spend more time trying to figure this out, I will get too emotional for no reason, adding  a sensitive situation. So I give you the above pitiful work and I hope you do not discredit Rudyard Kipling’s work: Commonplaces. It is an image pulling account of the sea and surroundings, you should check it. Forgive me Kipling.

I include the other poetry days here for easy access: Day 1, Day 2, Day 3,  Day 4 and Day 5.

Am I the only one who sucks at Found Poetry with Chiasmus today? Or is it your best creation to date, tell me about it below?