Thursday, 30 May 2013


The life we live. We live each day to bleed. We are bound with chains we do not understand, chains some of us choose to ignore and pretend does not exist. Life and time has us bound. Our future is not ours to look forward to. Life’s our slave master, exploits us of everything. Sweat. Tears. Emotions. We try to create a mirage, a form of happiness to hope for tomorrow. Something that keeps smiles plastered on our faces. But then our reality never forgets to slap in the face, long and hard, so we remember and do not forget. Who we are, what we have become, where we are going to. This road, this journey laced with blood and tears, is the life we live. Sometimes we understand and ask questions. What is life when we only live to die? But then we cannot talk of freedom when it is not ours to have. Some of us only exist, become numb, wait for the days to go by thinking it’s a form of escape but they even hurt all the more. Emptiness bring loneliness, loneliness brings desperation and desperation, madness. I have sought for an understanding  of this riddle, seeking a form of solace, but it seems far away like that dream that’s  too good to be true. Some of us have lost faith to believe in hope, we wander around like displaced persons seeking comfort from other places. We embrace the darkness, the sadness so as to conquer it. We fall in love with getting hurt, have orgasms to the piercing pain that frequents our already worn out hearts. We teach ourselves to make love to the hardness and cruelty of this life. Perhaps some good will come out of it. Somehow we would get used to the pain so it doesn’t hurt anymore. Somehow living would become bearable. Somehow the sun will shine through the storm on the carcass that would have become of our hearts. Somehow we would be free spirits that would soar in the highest of skies and the ocean of the Atlantic. Perhaps such a time would come. Perhaps not. We still wait and bleed some more.

Monday, 13 May 2013

Untitled 2

He once told me he loved me, he kissed me and said the words, “I love you”. He promised we’d grow old together and sit on the swing of the porch of our home, old and grey, celebrating Christmas and thanksgiving with our seed and their children. You promised we would die side by side, that you would not let me go through a day alone. You never spoke the actual words but you said them all the same. Loud and clear. They didn’t leave your mouth but your eyes spoke them and your heart too. I always hear the words repeatedly in my head. So you cannot leave me now. You cannot cause me to cry into my pillow in the darkness of the night, you cannot let me become this shadow that lives on the other side of these walls. You have to come back to me because I will wait. I will wait for I am a hopeless believer in love. I will wait because I believe in our forever. I will wait for your promises play now and again in my head. I hear the world sneering with words like knives, finding a sort of happiness in my loneliness but then again I have become familiar with this pain they bring so now I feel nothing. I am only waiting, waiting for you. Last night you came to me in my dream, looking hard and withdrawn, I held your hand and let my fingers run down your face, down your tensed jaw to your chest to feel that heartbeat that was similar to mine. To feel the rhythm of the music that made my own heart exist. You pulled my hand away and told me to go. You told me you never loved me and you never said the words. I felt my heart shatter within. It was suddenly so cold.  I wondered how I would have felt if you had said the actual words. I felt fear’s cold hand grip me. I shook my head desperately and let my mind revisit every time you vowed to be with me. How I heard the words a thousand times in my head when you held me hand, when your lips held mine in grave ceremony where our tongues intertwined as our hearts.  The many times you slammed into me repeatedly, spewing yourself inside me, a joining that bound our souls together. In my heart you said you loved me over and over, these many times. So I didn’t leave you in the dream, instead I reached up and kissed you long and hard as you taught me to. Your eyes were still distant and hard, with no hope to hold onto. I smiled sadly as you began to fade with the rising of the sun.


I am learning to find happiness in the silliest of things. I am learning to be deaf. To be ignorant of the voices inside and outside of my head. To build a huge wall around my heart to protect it from breaking over and over again. To refuse to let people’s feelings of me become one with my feelings of myself. To imagine the smell of flower and the ocean so I don’t smell the burning food in kitchen. To let my worries burn so that the tension in my muscles would cease. To dance to the music inside, let my hair down and live not just exist. Be myself through and through, not living through another’s eyes or living a life that is not mine. I am learning to laugh through the bitterness and the sadness. Call the bluff of my many fears. They cannot eat me up unless I let them to. I'm learning to sing the song of the birds that soar in the skies, their free spirits released into the white and blue clouds of the heavens. I am learning to cry out loud, letting the world see my tears so they know I'm as human as they are and I bleed red too. I am learning not to run away anymore, to embrace both the light and the darkness, leap into the unknown, explore this dark forest called life so I  don’t miss the beautiful secret garden that lies beyond

Wednesday, 8 May 2013


What is Life when you only live to die. Or love when you care only to get hurt. What is hope when you hold on just to get broken. Or faith when you believe only to ask questions later. What is happiness when you plaster a smile on your face just so no one sees your heart crying inside. What is justice when the blood of innocent people are spilled daily because of the greed of others. What is...

The Search for Hope?

Look for hope. Tell her I miss her. Tell her I need her to come back and that I'm ready to believe this time. Ask her if indeed the sun shines brighter on the other side. And there are lots of green grass? Tell her I'm tired of the suffering. and my heart is heavy with grief. Tell her I need a friend and someone to hold my hand and my heart. To stop it from breaking again. It keeps falling and breaking like fine china, I don't know why. Tell her I hate the color of my skin, it symbolizes everything bad. Hardship. Hunger. Strife. Life is hard, but the life of a black man is harder. Tell her the sun here fries souls, roasts them like chicken till they are crispy enough for the devil to eat. Tell her I am  tired of this wickedness. Tell her people kill, cheat, lie and deceive. No one is content. There is no love. Tell her I am afraid and sometimes I want to run away but to where? This is my home. Tell her my face is wrinkled with sadness and worry. And I mourn each month for the pain that comes with my feminine curse is heavy. I am now a bag of bones, frail and wounded by Life. Tell her I've lost faith somewhere in the middle of all this. And the bond with my creator is gone. Tell her I hardly talk to Him anymore. That I am angry with Him for all my misfortunes. Tell her to come back to me. That I am lonely, cold and empty inside without her. Tell her death has refused to take me. He has left me to suffer as living is much worse. Tell her to come home to me.Teach me to smile again, to fill the void inside inside and give me will as strong as steel so that I wont be easily broken again. Tell hope I am ready to believe, that she should come open my eyes so that I can see how beautiful tomorrow can become. Tell her ive been looking for her and its cold outside. Tell her I love her and its time for her to come home to me.


God can be funny. He grants us good times, memories to laugh about. These happy moments that bring smiles and laughter. Birth, birthdays, graduation, love, weddings and the like. Yes God can be funny, he just shows it in different ways, sometimes in odd ways to some people. But no one thinks God is funny in times of war, or when someone dear is snatched by death. No one laughs at God when you see the one you love walking hand in hand with someone else while you are alone holding onto your mistake. God understands how our emotions make us weak beings. Like Samson when he let Delilah lead him to his grave, or David when he killed Bathsheba's husband just because he wanted the wife of another man or Solomon when he turned away from his God to follow the idols of his many women. Man is an emotional being, passionate to love. Love drives us mad. Love makes us kill. Love makes us sin. Yes, God understands love more than we ever will. He let his only son die for people that didn't even care. We know how miserable we get when we make sacrifices for someone who hardly cares. People say caring is reciprocal. That it is compulsory to care back if someone cares for you. Girl, this is why you always get your heart broken. You let those animals trample over your already wounded heart. Truth is no one is tired of loving. We all want a happy ending with someone. So you bleed more when these people walk in and out of your life. Life is a journey. Life is this road. I cannot tell you how many souls have been swallowed on these same streets you now walk upon. Their ghosts still linger somewhere in the dark, searching for purpose, searching for love. Would you become a night harlot too? Would you give in to loving the emptiness in his eyes? Would you let him slam into you repeatedly with the violence that comes with the anger that he settles for you? Are you ready to hide the tears of regret? Hell, we are still trying to understand who we are and what we have become just the same way I am still trying to understand what I've just written.