I am!

Many a time

2012-01-24T12:02:00.000+02:00

Many a time
you stand me by,
face my fears.
Dread my tears.

Many a time,
I pray your love.
I lust the night,
forget my light.

Many a time,
it slips my mind.
you know me not.
I fear the day.

Many a time,
it's too late.
To find my way.
Even if I do pray.

Very Merry

2011-12-23T14:06:00.000+02:00

Have a great festive season to all my friends here. Hope that the new year will only bring joy and love to you all.

Thanks for all the comments through 2011.

Love and HUGZ,
Me

Noise

2011-12-12T12:49:00.001+02:00

Google images

Sometimes
everyone talks.
when there is nothing to say,
I will not listen
even if you call my name.

Be silent,
I hate the sound,
as your voice crackles,
through words.
Breaking the noise,
in this soundless state
of mind.

Be silent,
Be still.

16 days of activism against woman and child abuse - Are you breathing?

2011-12-02T08:25:00.000+02:00

Can you hear me,
scream down the walls,
of lust and hate.
That binds me to you.
Beat my brains in.
Burn my skin off.
Rape my soul,
until nothing is left,
to share with the world.

falling between,
doors in rooms.
Endless fear,
punch me down.
gasping for air,
a fish out of water.
no bird in the sky.

Are you breathing?
Is she really dead?
realize again,
you do not deserve
scars on your bones,
or blood on your soul.

# SPEAK OUT. 16 days of activism against woman and child abuse.
If you know of abuse and not speak out, you too are guilty too.

lost the way

2011-11-15T09:26:00.000+02:00

Deviant art

tension in streaks,

across the sky.

break the noise,

through silent eyes.

I am the one,

who knew the way.

Who lost the day.

had nothing to pay.

Slow my dismay,

if only;

I could pray.

mercy could,

show the way.

slow

2011-11-09T08:26:00.001+02:00

google images

Step One: take a breath.

Step Two: feel your soul.

Step Three to Five: be yourself.

Step Six to Nine: you will be just fine.

Step Ten: release the passion that you are.

Take life with both hands,
slow release the joy it brings.
Be free,
Feel alive.
Why waste more time.

Past lies here

2011-10-31T13:57:00.000+02:00

Google images

Memories beat me down,
strangle me in nights
of random thoughts.

I trusted you,
to hide away
and leave me alone.
Alone in my present day.

You had to make it known,
had to beat me down.
to show me what you know.

I hide my eyes,
you pull them open,
to show me dead memories,
their pain bursting open.

I wish you just stayed there,
in the past.
between the shadows in my closet.

Days like these

2011-10-19T11:32:00.000+02:00

It is days like these that make me wish I can just hide under my blankets. The weather is crappy, we are in Africa, I mean really SUN where are you my love. I am in such a bad mood, why I got really upset by someone at work. I am a very passionate person so if you pee me off I am good and well in the zone. My clothes does not fit me anymore and it hangs like bags on me (money for new ones there is not) But thank the universe I do have clothes.

I am hungry..... ok not hungry I want chocolate and LOTS of it.

I am Vegan for more than a month now, and things are looking good :) except my hunger for chocolate.

It all does not matter in the greater scheme of things, I guess. I also presume that everyone can have a drama day, so I will leave it at that. Today is my national drama day. :)

So here is to health, happiness and Drama queens. :)

R for Repeat

2011-10-12T15:17:00.000+02:00

Turn, turn.
toss and turn,
a lullaby
over and over.
You never,
sleep.

Slow breathing,
night chills.
we will get there.
Not too fast.
I would like,
to keep you small.
Pressed against my chest.

Your hair smells
like you.
the curls keep you pretty.
your skin so soft.
tickles makes you giggle.
I would like,
to keep you small.
Just for a little bit.
My little baby girl.

Gift to me.

2011-10-07T13:42:00.000+02:00

Google images

The paint dries when you stop staring.
The kettle boils when no one sees.
I was told the end is near,
but what seems like the end,
might be the beginning.

Fear is what holds you back,
strip your clothes, take the facade off.
The snarling grin, surely does not suite you.
Stop pretenses, you are who you will be.

Be free, be thankful.
Laugh, love, live.
There is no greater gift you give yourself.

When you get there.

2011-10-03T13:04:00.000+02:00

the wind knows those screams,

it makes it's own voice heard

around random corners.

break free from norms,

get dragged in deeper.

shout out loud,

no one will stop to listen.

They walk too fast to care.

We all have our passion,

we all know our pain.

We sing in the shower,

we cry in the rain.

Say thank you to the gods,

curse through the pain.

The endless road to no where,

is the only way to go.

Friday

2011-09-30T11:05:00.000+02:00

It's been a long week, I've been sick.

I always underestimate the power of sleep. I wish my little monster can start sleeping I really need to rest.

It is the weekend....whooohooooo.

Have a great one everyone talk soon.

:)

Addictions

2011-09-16T12:50:00.000+02:00

Before I sleep,
drown out my fears.
with whiskey,
tablets and cigarrettes.
Fowl language, sex and food,
time spent on nothing.

Slow motion
I venture into rooms,
of colored hazes.
Floating on a stream
of technicolor dreams.

In and out of life,
my breathe strangles me.

Death knows my name,
and whispers it softly to me.
Tantalizing my senses to be free.

His army of monsters,
licks flesh, take in every piece of me.
scratching deeper.
Drag me closer,
with needles of steel.
Blood is all that satisfy them.

Release in silence,
drift slowly into nothing,
my soul removed from body.

Knowing this will only last a lifetime.

Comunication

2011-09-15T09:11:00.000+02:00

say nothing
it falls on deaf ears,
of dead men.
words flop around,
they are fish out of water,
gasping for air in silence.
die a death of suffocation.

say something,
scream, curse, pray.
you know the rules,
spit, vomit, hate.
say only what is expected,
of you.
everything you say must,
be
perfect.
must
be
appropriate.

perfect imperfection,
so you say nothing.
you let your words,
die alone in silence.
where no one judge,
where no one care.

Stories and more

2011-09-06T13:19:00.000+02:00

I am struggling to think of any poetry or stories might just be I am so over tired.
My baby does not sleep and I have allot of new projects going on. I am very exited and very thankful for the universe that sends me all these amazing things. I just really need to sleep a little bit, but as my mom explains I never slept until I was 3......o please let my little monster sleep soon 3 is still far away. And I am not wishing her older so I can sleep that's for sure.

The music blog is running so nicely and I have received loads of great feedback and compliments. There is also a few awesome interviews coming up.....eeekkkkk....lets hope I don't get star struck.\

Hows everyone? and thank you for the support over at Music news....I so appreciate it.
HUGZ

SA MUSIC NEWS

Who guessed

2011-09-02T08:29:00.002+02:00

For years now, I have been hoping to be a writer forgetting the fact that I am. Endless word stream through my mind daily and sometimes I cannot sleep because I have all these stories being built in my mind. So in the end of the day I am a writer not published but this will come in its own time.

I recently became friends with a newspaper editor, still have no idea what brought me to him, or him to me. My strong believe in the universe and it sending you what is meant for you allowed me to accept that this was meant to be. After many conversations, random things mostly. He has agreed that I manage and write their blog. Can you ever, me, I am so exited and so nervous.

The newspaper is called SA MUSIC news and I will post my first post by the end of today. Please have a read and give me some feedback. I have been a blogger for many years now, but feedback is always good, and specially seeing that this will be something new and different for me.

SA Music News Blog

One more thing I am doing, goodness sometimes wonder where I get the time for everything:) YAY

Have a great weekend.

Slowly you will get there

2011-08-30T08:35:00.000+02:00

She matches up all the pieces and carefully pin them together. This is the most important part of the process, if this goes wrong everything has to be redone. A strong wind test the windows and doors for any cracks, it screams around the corners of the house. If she wasn't concentrating so hard the pending storm would have her fear the worse.

The machine light brightens up the patterns on the material and it almost looks like the wrong color. She smiles softly to herself and anticipates the joy inside her. She presses the pedal and the zinging sound echos through the house.
Mr Bobbit comes into the room and lovingly twirls around her ankle and then suddenly pounce on the foot that is pressing the peddle. She jumps up and grabs her foot, little claw marks allow blood to escape the skin.

"OUT, Mr Bobbit" she pics up the cat and skids him across the tiles, the door gets closed behind him. She is now again in her little cocoon of sewing bliss, alone. The wind still pressing hard to make an entrance, thunder slowly coming closer.

The little light and the zinging of her sewing machine is the only distraction she needs right now.

I am so into my little sewing mind right now, the Market went so well. I am really loving this new adventure....thanks for all the support.....HUGZ

a bit of boring me

2011-08-19T11:59:00.000+02:00

On the lighter side today, not going to write my normal soul searching chew your own arm off drama.
Instead I am going to share the fact that I am well on my way to own my own toy factory...yes I am dreaming super big here.

My monster toys are taking off, and I have orders daily and now I might even have a supplier in another city....I am exited:)

check em out if you feel like seeing my weird creations:)

http://www.facebook.com/oogimonsters

Self help.

2011-08-16T08:47:00.000+02:00

She often wondered what she did wrong to bring her to this place. All the self help books these days are very clear that you create your own life. They shout from the TV screens be what ever you want by your own designer thoughts. So being homeless, hungry, poor is your own thoughts. Really, can it be that easy?

Her life was never what she wanted, she was raped as a teenager and that shaped everything. She could not really love any man, their violent ways and smell stuck to her mind like a summer haze. She smell the stench in their sweat and felt the dampness in their breath. She did not choose that, or did she? Therapy helped her cope, that's all you need to do count the days you cope. Days turn into years.
She did not choose that day, maybe it chose her. The days there after where hate and addiction followed her everywhere was her own, that she chose.
She never told a soul, so of course everyone judged her actions. How can a intelligent, creative, well brought up young woman destroy herself? Destroy her parents they have worked so hard to give her everything. The shocking truth sometimes everything is nothing.

She does her day job, as this is what is expected of her. She goes to work in the slow moving traffic, little robots of society. She sits at her desk types her reports, and go home. Count the day, she coped.

Sometimes anger flares up and she thinks that if she shoots him; "Kill him like he killed her" maybe then she wont cope and start to live again. Then tears roll down her face and she realize she had her chance to fight that day, but she never did, she let him do this.

So finding him now and shooting him now, will just be something else to cope with.

She will continue to count the days, read self help books, and pray one of them will actually be the help she needs.

What the heart does not see.

2011-08-12T15:21:00.000+02:00

Stand tall,
on heels of silver.
bend low,
in beds of lust.

cut deep,
the skin hair grows on.
be scared,
you are no one.

Youth lost,
between sheets.
Innocence baked,
in half risen dreams.

pressed tight,
against sweat and lust.
hate more,
than you ever did before.

Hunger for life,
that's not meant for you.

Information overload

2011-08-08T07:57:00.000+02:00

press more information into,
my glutton stricken mind.
read more, know more,
until the seams of your mind burst;

OPEN.

brain scattered on dirty floors,
where more online viewers can satisfy,
satisfy their own need for death.

Your need to know more,
be more.
Spill your torture on u tube,
get more hits, get more views.
This might validate who you are.

When all you are was always enough.
Never enough for society.
That push us into nothing,
into sex scandals on small screens.
into hate they need to lust after.

More information,
sell your body,
sell you soul.

When did the price of information become so high?
How did everything you have,
become redundant.

Insane

2011-08-02T08:10:00.000+02:00

Bash your head against the wall,
over and over;
over again,
black blood cloud your judgment.

No sense will come of this.

Sit in the corner,
with death at your door.
Never brave enough to let it in.
Never strong enough to let it go.

Pull your hair out,
scratch your face.
Your worse enemy,
inside you.

The morning brings new promise,
every night pulls it from your arms.

Bash your head against the wall,
over and over;
over again

New

2011-07-04T08:21:00.000+02:00

Some days I look for answers.

Most days I just look for life.

The night

2011-05-25T08:17:00.000+02:00

Violent, Violate
Bash my mind in,
In,
Pieces with a brick.
You love to hate me,
Love to take me,
Break me
Break me,
in a million
P I E C E S.

I lie scattered on your sadistic mind.
Your forceful passion,
Breaks me
Breaks me down.

The intensity of pain,
The silence of toture.
As my soul bleeds out,
Bleeds out.
Red stained hearts,
You lick my blood,
Your laughter echoes,
Through the night.
I died,
Lifeless you bathe me.

Tommorow you will break me down
Down

Down again.

The river

2011-05-17T11:15:00.000+02:00

He grew up in these parts, the trees hugging the river, the river strongly pulsing past their home. He knew the call of the birds and adored the different wild animals that also called these woods home. He remembers his mother made them bacon and eggs with sunny toast and cinnamon buns every Sunday. The sweet scent of cinnamon enchanted you under your blankets, and drew you out from under it. Mom’s voice would softly follow with love that breakfast is served. These memories he knew so well, the smells, the taste, the joy.

Many years after mom passed away dad could not hold off the cancer on his own anymore and he passed away one cold winter morning. No one really cried, there was only silence it ran all the way down the river. No bird had a song and none of the other forest creatures called their mates. Their father was buried and the cold winter wind cut through their souls. He felt he had to cry, to mourn, but nothing. He remembers the day his father came home from the hospital, moms eyes stained red from all the tears. Dad had cancer, as teenagers none of them fully understood what that meant. They all cried together, more because mom was upset, more because dad was scared.
Death is such a weird thing, you cry, you feel alone; you wish you could see that person one more time. Death has a funny way of stopping conversations, of making brothers and sister’s common ground fall away. They did not see each other anymore, because mom did not cook anymore and dad did not make you feel guilty as this might be his last Christmas. So now they don’t talk, now they do not want to see each other anymore.

None of his brothers and sisters wanted the old family home. The roof had one to many leaks and the moss growing up on the rocky walls was just too much of a reminder the parents they loved were now gone. Danny was a high powered attorney and could not care less for the memories they shared in that house. Sharon travelled the world and never had time for anyone but herself. Milly and Martin, had families of their own, they had schedules to run.

He decided to move to the house and start renovating the beaten up house, he did not have a schedule, family or anything important he had to do. It would take a very long time before this house would resemble its former glory. David wanted it to look as lovely as it did when he was a child. He would one day bring up his own family here and be as joyful as he was in his youth. He never had it easy, he always had to fight his way through everything; maybe this was what he needed to just be himself again.

Every night he sat in the kitchen eating his meal. The silence that the house brought with it each meal was sometimes daunting; there were no other lights in the area, only the river raging at the foot of the house. Only his kitchen light against the darkness that was creeping closer. If only he knew what that house had in store for him later, if only he knew he would change forever…..

Hide

2011-05-11T08:38:00.000+02:00

Never think of the times hate was your daily feeling, the sore wounds bashed open day after day. You try and forget and they say time heals all wounds. Who are they to know how you will heal.

Sometimes unseen from your eyes, the hand goes to those old scabs and scrape them till they bleed. Blood stains the pale skin around it and blood drip in slow motions to the floor.

The red brings relieve but with it the knowledge of an open wound embrace your mind. Franticly try to sweep everything under the rug, hide the truth from the world, wipe the blood from the floor. These are things you know so well. The memories of that time haunts your thoughts.

As the blood dries up and a new scab forms you find renewed strength to continue the daily journey, pushing everything that shaped you to the back of your mind.

Will I still be me if I was never, you know, if I was never taken?
Not taken from my parents in the dark of night, but taken from myself for everyone to see. The moments that shape you, is the moments that will forever hate you.

Living

2011-05-05T09:13:00.000+02:00

There are a few things she knows, and one of them is that this is not living. She gets up daily look herself in the mirror, comb her hair, brush her teeth. Slowly add makeup to her face, to hide the so called imperfections. She does what the world expects without questioning it.

She putts her dull clothes on, she put heels on, knowing that she would much rather be wearing her hippie skirt with no shoes at all. She gets in her over priced car, that spits low fumes out into the air. The sky looks dull and grey and the sun try and fight his way through the smog. There is a few things she knows, and one of them is that she is not saving the environment.

She parks her car in front of the company she does not believe in, she gets out of her car and hates every step she takes. She sits at her desk and finish her work, it does not bring her joy or makes her feel a sens of accomplishment. She gets up at 5 and drive back home. There is a few things she knows, and one of them is that this is not living.

She makes her ready meal, sits in front of the TV, takes a bath goes to bed.
There is a few things she knows, and one of them are that this live has to change.

Screaming child of mine.

2011-04-21T07:37:00.006+02:00

One more sleepless night, one more day clinging onto ones sanity. She never stops crying, over and over her screams rip through my soul.

Walk up and down, up and down, the darkness knows what we are going through. I need a break just a short one, please someone; anyone help me!
Sing, sing, dance, dance, please little one, I don't know what to do.

Cries turn into bellowing demonic whispers, please stop, shuuuussshhhhh. "Mommy understands": I say knowing I have no clue. I know it will just get worse, with every passing hour, she will scream breathless into the night.
Until I feel like I hate her, until she makes me cry too. How a precious gift can be such a horrific nightmare.

I put her down in the middle of my bed, screaming, screaming her sorry song.

I sit in the corner rocking myself, singing a pathetic song trying to calm myself, calm the darkness, calm the world.

It's nights like these that makes me loose my mind.

"My baby never stopped screaming for the first 3 months of her life, no one knew why. Colic, hunger, allergies, me? Eventually the crying stopped, now we do get along better, she is lovely. She is 17 months now.
If you have no one to take a screaming baby you will loose your mind, the sound they make is horrible. So this is just me saying to new moms out there: If you feel alone and useless it's ok, we all felt that way. Give yourself a break you are doing the best you can. Get someone to watch the baby for a few hours a week and just get yourself back. This too will pass.

I love my little monster:)"

I remember you

2011-04-20T10:46:00.002+02:00

There was a time when he came in and sat down next to her stroking her hair as she leaned against him. His skin smelled masculine, a slight soft scent of sweat. This was not a bad smell, it reminded her of the passion they shared.
His kiss on her skin was soft, perfect, blissful.
She loved his touch, she adored his breath on her skin, she lusted after every piece of him.

Now he just barks short sentences and remind her of things that needs to be done. Gone are the days they sat for hours just staring into each others souls. Embracing each others perfection.

He was screaming at her and the dog, his voice was a vacuum of sounds, the words not clear. He punches angry into the air and then pointing at the puddle on the floor. His horrible anger piercing her.
She looks as he walks away from her, mumbling and swearing to himself.
She calmly cleans where the dog left the puddle, she wish she can clean Roland's soul.....just wipe away all the puddles of sadness, all the puddles of despair, all the anger.
Nothing can bring back what they had, nothing can bring back what they lost.
She turned into a mute and he turned into anger.

She gets up from the floor and throw the paper towel in the dustbin, wash her hands, a ritual of cleaning follows, she ends washing the floor.

She ends washing the floor.

lonely

2011-04-15T19:37:00.000+02:00

How to take away the feeling of lonely?

Social Network

2011-04-08T15:27:00.002+02:00

She asked him to come alone and that she will show him a good time.
He waited in the dark, all the street lights where out, it might have been a power failure.

His mind was racing through the weeks events up until this moment.

She seemed so lovely, so sweet, why must he wait for her here in a cemetery. A chill ran up and down his spine he was starting to feel uneasy with the wait.
She introduced herself on Facebook as a innocent girl, he needed someone to love in his life, he wanted someone to share his life. She seemed like the perfect match. He did doubt her a little as the time in the dark wrapped around him.

His heart was racing and he wanted to leave. He could not shake this feeling of uncertainty and fear he felt from the moment he got out of his car.

Then............... out of the corner of his eye he saw a shadow and then a blade. The night creatures screamed and cried as his decapitated body fell to the floor.

He died that night.

This was just a story I made up of the night a young guy was killed by two people in e cemetery. It happened this week and I followed the story on the news. He went to the cemetery on a "date" and left in a body bag. We all live in the digital world and we trust people too easily, does not mean he or she has a sweet smile they are to be trusted.
Saw the parents of the guy that was killed on the news last night, they where devastated. I freak out every time one of my facebook friends show their location on facebook maps or what ever the app is called. Every stalkers dream.
I could not help feel scared for my child, yes she is still a baby and have some time before she uses the computer. We are on the computer in the safety of our homes, but we have to be extra careful, extra open to ask questions and to know who our kids, and family members are talking to on the net.
Sorry he died, I am sure he is not the only one.

black

2011-03-03T20:14:00.002+02:00

Slowly she can hear him closing in on her. Her eyes fall shut in defeat, fear closing it's clutches around her soul. His right leg drags behind him. it's been like that ever since the accident. She knows the familiar sound all to well and dread its familiarity.

Behind the sofa she sits holding onto her knees as if it will make her smaller, less visible. Her small frame stuck between the wall and the sofa, she should have said something when the nice lady was here today. She should have said she fears the night falling over this house.

But this is a fear, a need, a terrible hate that grows with her daily.

As much as she hates it, she does not know anything but it.

Life through a lens

2011-02-17T09:32:00.002+02:00

I saw you standing there, with your bright pink tights and low cut top. Moving your body is odd shapes, being the perfect frame.
Make-up artist surround you, hair stylist pulling your hair in tight fashion statements.
You never smile; the look does not allow it. High heels shaping your legs into divine sculptures.
Striking a pose, lights flashing and camera clicking.

Nothing sees your soul, nothing knows you heart.

Finished; you walk into tall bright buildings, alone and undesired. Lying empty on expensive sheets, you dream of a life less fashionable, a life less designed.

Everyone wants more, everyone wants nothing.

You choose every day.

Live

2010-10-26T19:19:00.002+02:00

He walk the streets with heavy feet and broken dreams. Woman with the smell of old men on their skin, staggering closer: "Come baby I'll show you a good time."
Pushing off the lust in his heart and denying them the money to feed their kids one more time.

Vomit in small isles, drink up poetry in Vodka clubs. Imagine days when live was pleasant, when the night did not attack him like a rabbi invested dog. He knew nothing about cocaine and music, he was free.

Now he is bound in death.

Writting

2010-05-03T19:45:00.003+02:00

So exited, so much is going my way. Guess it's to do with analysing the secret. Things are just flying at me...woop woop. An old friend eventually said he will illustrate my kiddies book, as a gift to my daughter...YAY go Layla:)

I have decided to rethink and redo all the stories I initially had in mind.....first story will be called Hip Hop Hippo.....yes you guessed it a hip hop dancing hippo....check that belly roll.....YAY

Gosh I cant contain my excitement.....:)

Peace out:)

ahhhhhh

2010-04-29T19:37:00.003+02:00

Can you hear the super duper choir going Ahhhhhh, yes at last we had our first night of no interruptions. Little Miss slept from 7PM to 5 AM.....ahhhhhh. I am so exited, I will feel human again, and no more zombie like state for me....no way.

She is growing so fast......shame....feel like just yesterday when she was tiny 2.5 kilos.....now she is a hefty 7.6...she made up for lost time.

Anyway...I think I need to now stop fusing over being a mommy and get some essance back....or a balance.

Now how am I planning to do that..
Step 1: Analise the secret
Step 2: search out the life teachers and spiritual guides.
step 3: Get my moyo flowing...:)
Step 4: My photo business is running smooth, but I must be profitable( that it is, I made my paycheck out) www.dmphotodesign.co.za
Step 5: Live the life I deserve....YAY.
Step 6: Publish that novel that is finished and never dusted off....now is the time.
Step 7: Make sure my daughter loves life.

That's all the steps for now....will keep you guys posted.

And one more time AAAAHHHHHH:)

Love you all long time:)

Monday

2010-04-12T08:11:00.002+02:00

It's Monday feel like I haven't slept for days. My eyes have maps of all the sideways and byways, or maybe just of the road to my daughters room:)

She is a cutie even if I have to say so myself. I just wish she could sleep more....:) Maybe one day the mother syndrome(no sleep) will leave my life and I will sleep again...:) till then I join the night crawlers between dark shadows, and dimmed street lights.

I guess this is all I have to say on that topic.

she is the light,
between giggles,
gurgles.
I don't mind,
the night.
I don't mind,
shadows.

We sway until day,
lullaby's, heavy metal,
anything to make you individual.

Smile, smile,
sweet child of mine.
spit, sneeze,
giggle.
I'd love you,
even if you where brittle.

kisses,kisses.
Playful moments.
the night comes,
till shadows hide.
We will sway again,
into the day.

Opinions

2010-03-23T19:22:00.002+02:00

I got a really interesting comment on one of my poems:

"What a shitty poem. This is terrible. I've eaten alphabet soup and shat better than this."

I think he must get a book deal for his ass.

What do you guys think?

:)

missing in the lost and found

2010-03-18T18:59:00.002+02:00

Its true I was missing in the lost and found. At least I was picked up and found out....so all should be fine now...lets see if I can blog more often:)

Miss this too much:)

Killing words

2009-10-22T09:39:00.003+02:00

Hold me now,
I need to feel
relieve.

I am so ashamed,
I left you behind.
I am out of reasons,
trying not to find you.

So afraid,

I don't belong,
in this silence.

So ashamed,
I left you behind.

Hold me now,
I need to feel complete.

I matter to the words,
that take hold of me.
suppose I let this go,
and feel the end.

what would the reason be,
to believe in me?

hold me now.
I am not well,
if I don't speak
through you.
I am on the wrong side, of
it all.

So guilty,
I killed you off,
left you out.

I am so ashamed.
I am so ashamed,
I killed my words.

what I missed

2009-09-10T09:28:00.002+02:00

time,
nothing in the wind.
rapid movement,
to where we stand.

movement in my belly
7 months,
will grow to seven years.
need to take it in.
need not move,
cannot breathe.
I will miss it all.

from birth,
to teeth,
first words spoken.
wobble legs to get,
that first step.
kisses, hugs.
will I be able,
to be the best
for her.

Time will share,
time will know.
time will reveal it all.
that day.

Only in time

2009-06-19T16:36:00.002+02:00

a minute
is in the now,
an hour,
left behind.

slow pacing,
through memories,
that won't tell a lie.

I saw you,
then.
May feel you,
Now!

It was a dream,
shattered,
into reality.

Need no more,
words.
need some more,
time.
To keep you,
by my side.

wearing black with a smile

2009-06-09T16:42:00.004+02:00

Saw it's hands
and legs today.
Perfect head,
beating heart.
Body chubby,
bobbing up and down.

Perfect,
the feeling odd.
Soft emotion,
caught me by surprise.
I was not sure,
cry,
laugh.

Never felt
so proud,
never knew,
wearing black,
can be so hard.
No One died,
someone will be born.

Created perfection,
growing inside me,
wearing black,
with a smile.
Thats all I know,
how to do:)

when words find addiction

2009-05-25T15:39:00.003+02:00

Found my addiction,
laced with passion.
over and over,
in my mind.
all I needed, all I cared for,
was it's need.
my scull throbbing from it's
lust.

Beat my addiction,
drained my soul,
eat my words.
Did not know where I started
where it ended.

Found myself in a clean room,
saw reflection in mirrors, and blood.
wrote of no emotion.
depict myself in word,
in sweat,
dark rooms with no eyes.

Beat my addiction in,
beat my addiction
beat me.
beat me.

Between life

2009-05-11T16:01:00.004+02:00

find time to breathe,
between joy,
between life.

find dialog in my mind,
between words,
between sentences.

find life in me,
between womb,
between skin.

find joy in every minute,
between you,
between me.

each day

2009-03-09T21:08:00.003+02:00

poetry with light,
touch curves;
in shadows.
human form,
perfection.

strange

2009-02-18T13:09:00.002+02:00

stuck,
in my mind.
thoughts of change.
move into

spaces,

take what is yours.

I feel the minute.
trapped in the now.
nothing more powerful,
than breaking the silence.

Too long,
trapped in blood,
hate and pain.

Touch me once,
touch me twice,
break your mind
if you touch me trice.

I am,

nothing more to say.

Photographic poetry

2009-01-29T11:23:00.003+02:00

On one of the social photography sites I joined, a woman calls her photos photographic poetry and I must say its amazing. It is all fine art nudes in black and white. One of her statements was that all important sensual body parts are heart shaped, I browsed through her gallery and my word its the truth... Just some useless information, ill be doing fine art nudes soon....and M@ if I am ever in any of those pics I wont tell you....hihihihi, guess I should then remember to add an age restriction to the blog, but for now it's just me and my none nude art and poetry.

Sight

with eyes wide open,
I feel your voice.
It beats like a drum,

doef, doef, doef.

Summons all closer to see.
the rhythm of you,
consumes me.
I want to breathe you in,
like the midnight air.
dark luscious air,
filled,
with spots of moonlight.

eyes wide open,
mouth filling up,
bite after, bite
of fresh soft skin.

no blood,
just lust,
for flesh.

pale skin,
left,
with pink teeth labels.
You are mine,
you are mine,
your skin wears my branding.

I take you,
with your rhythm,
it leaves a soft dust
behind,
to say:
we consumed each other,
here.

smile

2009-01-28T12:37:00.003+02:00

saw you,
there,
lost;
in your mind.
afraid of your,
soul.

softly smiling.

tried to reach,
out,
touch you.
you would have;
none of that.

closer I walked.
maybe just;
catch a whiff of you.

me so close,
made you scream out:

GO.

watching you,
as your eyes,
grow.
and your voice,
so deep.

anger, trapped in fear.

can I be so;
provoking,
so disgusting.

calmly I look at you.
taking your scent in;
one last time.

I walk off,
with your bellowing voice,
stroking my hair.
breaking me.

all I wanted;
was to say:
I love your smile.

Afraid of the dark

2009-01-23T12:55:00.002+02:00

Sjuut, it hears you.
Butterflies flying around,
it's inside your heart.

Please, get rid of it.
I cannot stand it's silence,
it's nothingness.

It brings no Eco,
it takes no colour.
Leaves me blind,
in my own mind.

It wraps like a blanket,
tucked against it's heat.
I feel the fear burning,

please, get rid of it.

I need to be free from you,
need nothing from you.
you leave me with blindness,
take away traces of kindness.

Please, get rid of it.

fever,
I feel all it's pain.
what is this symptoms:
fear of the dark?

Hunger

2009-01-19T13:30:00.003+02:00

Stand up, against poverty.
Word of help,
action of none.

I speak of hunger,
Speak of fear.
strength of humans,
left in tin houses.

I dream of life,
see fortune,
my hunger overwhelming
my potential never suppressed.

stand up,
we all have to fight.
to build strength,
from the need.
Get power,
from hunger.

We are Africans.
hearts of lions,
we will stand up,
we will stand out.

A few pics I took around my City in South Africa, Johannesburg. I then edited them and made them a bit arty:)

Expose me

2009-01-14T21:05:00.005+02:00

Light,
in eyes,
slowly touched.

Move the lens,
focus on perfection.
stuck on you,
when you showed,
the passion.

Colour,
contrast,
breathe,
feel,
see,
move.

closer slower.

Capture.
aperture, my lover.
ISO, my need.
I breathe
in Images.

Over expose me,
it is called art.

This poem was inspired by my new found passion photography:) The pic above was taken by me:) I love it:)

And on a serious note, a blogger friend Travis(I read his page a few times) house burned down, please help if you can :http://www.habitatfortravis.blogspot.com/

New

2009-01-05T07:30:00.003+02:00

Time is never to late;
nowhere to wait.
I am.

Words need to flow,
once again
they where lost.
Playing hide and seek,
in my mind.

memories of hate;
dissolved.
No return,
no vengeance,
no pain,
no blood.
What can one say?

I am.
The moment is now,
darkness only at night,
I sleep soft between,
sheets of love and joy.
nostalgia forgotten
in dreams of remembrance.

I am.

Revamp

2008-12-10T14:14:00.003+02:00

I was missing from blogging for a very long time. Reason I think I had the worse writers block of my life, don't know if I can shake it yet. I will surely try.

Why did I get writers block, because I became happy, oddly so but the truth. So all my poetry was dark and gloomy and when I did not feel that way anymore I had no idea how to write as we know my tap was intensely emotional and I could make everyone feel what I felt through words. So now the new me needs some experimenting. I am not sure yet if I will close my other blog or if I will continue with it as is.

For now I will reinvent my blog and also go say hi to everyone I missed dearly, but had no words to share with.

digesting my poetry

2008-07-23T21:12:00.003+02:00

I have decided to start digesting my poetry and getting the best of. Reason? To get it together in a book.....I think I can do this. Any comment would be greatly appreciated:)

So the first digestion.

Some kind of lust.

Some kind of taste;
Some kind of beautiful,
Met some kind of hate.

The rules changed,
when pictures took life.
I was scared,
broken, maybe beaten.
Too smart?
Deserved better.
The only decision; take it all with blood, hate
and glory.

What is love?
Some kind of life.
Met some kind of death.

I gave it all up.

to be the one.
touched,
slowly tasted,
broken into bite size
pieces.

lust me not.
Love me once,
Some kind of perfect;
Met some kind of beauty
everything left in some kind of vain.
If only I had some kind of life.

I could have loved you all day

2008-07-03T21:16:00.003+02:00

release you now,
if only I can.
You are invested in me.
cared for in every curve,
stuck in heart felt
pain.

gave it all up,
to get a broken heart.
turn my head,
but your in my mind.
you were the one,
you said goodbye.
felt like a solid kick.
broke every pain I knew;
to make space for new heartache
on my mind.

been nearly a year,
how do you say goodbye?
to the one you loved.
I been way down,
I been so sad,
wish I can just erase
the love I feel.
does it take a lifetime of laughter,
to wipe out this broken heart?

you ignore me now,
turn away when I call your name.
do you know it still breaks my heart.
I still smell you in my mind.
Still feel you down my curves,
all that's left is my broken heart.

waiting for insanity, but the sun came back

2008-06-24T21:43:00.004+02:00

I waited by the door,
it let me in swiftly.

It does that sometimes.
allow you to see the
inside
of it all.

I broke to many times
they say;
you used you up!!
they say;

never knew this numb feeling was,
being used up.

What do you feel?
express yourself?
they say:

can I knock your head in,
I whisper;
is that expression, feeling?

softly, surely
I lifted into feeling something,
is it anything,
was it this?
should it be more of that.

Write a letter get it out.
I write poetry I speak of hate and blood.
did you not see?

I paint now,
the black and red can blend.
enjoying freedom.
this is feeling, expression.

hate me not,
use me later,
forgive you? MAYBE.

I fooled me by saying I felt it.
felt nothing,
not a f*cking thing.

it's all better now.
the sun came back.
they allowed me outside again.
won't bash your head in.

i'll paint blend black and red.

tears in broken glass

2008-04-22T21:59:00.004+02:00

tears break through glass
to fall in dusty roads,
between raw emotion.
screams of pain,
of hate.

touch through soft light,
timely perfect.
until shadows lift,
dead faces stare back at you.
love made in rotting bodies.
this the end.

smell sweet scent.
she will be there,
feel the warmth of her.
need the lust she share.
break me in as you ride my heart.
dirty dreams between naked hearts.
i gag in the taste of you,
resent the smell of your rhythm.

touch me,
break me,
i hate you so.
take what you started,
relieve my soul out of this.
you needed dead skin,
broken hearts.
you've taken it all.

whisper words to silent night.
you will never have my soul.

I was lost

2008-04-13T21:11:00.004+02:00

stand in a crowd,
listen to silence of words.

I hear my heart beat,
into hollow rooms.
Pressed against,
cold floors.
become real.
be something,
was nothing.

I go missing sometimes,
disappear between words.
kiss me once,
forget to leave my breath.
took my soul,
out for a while.
but left my hollow body;
between sand and seaweed.

death always comes;
when you least expect it.

silence is always in violence.
slow,

time moves when you have nothing,

more
to
give.

Some kind of taste

2008-01-19T14:43:00.000+02:00

Some kind of taste
Some kind of beautiful,
Met some kind of hate.
They changed the rules
When my picture took life.
I was scared,
Too smart,
Deserved better.
Still decided,
to take it all anyway.

What is being loved?
Some kind of life.
Met some kind of death.
I give it all up.

to be the one.
touched,
slowly tasted,
broken into bite size
pieces.

lust me not.

Love me once,

Some kind of perfect
met some kind of beauty
all was left in some kind of hate.
If only I had some kind of life.

My entire broken heart

2007-12-30T18:44:00.001+02:00

you love me with your, heart,
the hole broken heart.
No wonder I slipped,
through the cracks.
you fall apart.
cause you can only take a part
of me.

did you not see how I tried?
wanted to tie your broken heart to mine.
you loved me,
with your entire broken heart.
I loved you with my heart,
but with the cracks,
everything seemed to fall apart.
no matter how hard,
I tried to tie you to me.
you loved me with your
entire broken heart.

Jy het my lief met jou,
hele gebroke hart.
dis geen wonder ek het gegly,
deur die krake.
jy breek in stukke,
want jy kon my net uit mekaar haal.

het jy nie gesien hoe ek probeer?
on jou gebroke hart aan myne vas te maak.
jy het my lief gehad
met jou hele gebroke hart.
ek het jou lief gehad met my hart,
maar die krake,
het als laat uit mekaar val.
maak nie saak hoe hard
ek probeer om jou aan my te verbind nie.
jy het my lief gehad
met jou hele gebroke hart.

Rat alien child.

2007-12-18T20:29:00.000+02:00

One would think that alien have the common sense to check where they land their alien inhabited time capsules. Some would even say monitor the growth of that alien specie on the planet you leave it. We all know they send them in the capsules when they are just merely little babies. Then they get to the planet of choice, then the little baby would develop and look speak and act like the planet of choices so called specie. Yes a hint of sarcasm our particular little alien baby got dropped in earth and he started to develop as a human, humans silly two leg things, trying to get jiggy would the opposite sex. Wasting days on a mating ritual where you can actually rather plan taking over the world.

Look at rats, all woman would go eeewie but please look at it, they are silent, they are an invested race in every mayor city in the world. They can go where no man has gone and they have sex like a million times without any effort. Now tell me who is the supreme species here.

Back to our little orphan alien baby, now he landed on earth, he was actually destined for two planets left of Kalabakazoo (an entire galaxy that no human knows about, ok except me, but I am the story teller here). Now he was starting to take on human form, cause some or other couple in the Kalahari (that’s such a lovely place in South Africa) taught they could be modern day super mom and dad in the Kalahari. They played with this little boy, errmm girl, ok lets leave gender out for now. They played and fed this little alien boy.

Rat headquarters in London heard about this capsule falling in South Africa and send out a special Kamakazi rat brigade(something like that). They found the alien baby in a nick of time, they saved him if you would like to call it that. Then now the transformation of our little baby alien rat started rapidly, and before we could trace him, he moved into the rat underworld. I hear he is quite happy there have about 4 wives and live of lovely cheese snacks in London, he just don’t like the weather much there. He is planning world domination with the super rat race and a new improved alien race too. So watch out humans they might be watching you.

Sonskyn in 'n koevert

2007-11-28T21:27:00.000+02:00

pak jou kouse die reën is oppad,
trek styf jou belt.
pak nog sonskyn in 'n kovert,

of lugkastele in jou kosblik,

kon jy nog droom.

Nou is jy groot,
niks is meer lekker nie.
mens huil vir die wat sterf,
bekommer oor die wat leef.
Ironies.

Sunshine in an envelope.

pack your socks the rain is on its way,
pull tight your belt.
pack more sunshine in the envelope,

or sky castle's in your lunch tin.

from when you could dream.

Now your all grown up.
Nothing is fun anymore,
you cry when people die,
and worry about the ones that's alive.
Ironic.

youth

2007-11-21T21:29:00.000+02:00

Getting older,
is clay.
Over,
and
over.
mould into better,
nothing again.

touch sooner.
get the right,
shape;
then again.
over,
and
over.
mould me differently.

body not getting,
stronger,
more attractive.
just moulding.
over,
and
over.
till the shape fits in
then only is it left out, to stand out.

clay can never,
be sand again.
it is always left,
to be moulded.
till you find yourself;
in the state your in.

passionatly lustful

2007-10-24T21:56:00.000+02:00

Peace,
I hate the word;
As I hate hell and all Montague's. Shakespeare

slow through air.
move in restless skin,
unknown to yourself.

I died to give you life;
slow,
perfect,
rejected.

could perfection,
be
without need.
directly in death.
shiver for black,
move into strange
areas.
shake me till I am holy.
need me till I sin.

afraid of what my lust,
will bring.

Seek the flesh;
that heats me,
give me.
need to lust,
passion,
that boils in you.

in me.

fast

2007-10-21T20:42:00.000+02:00

gou

genot,
tydlik
nat vel.
sweet.
tyd,
stadig.

leef,
leer.
begeer,
veraltyd.
rooi,
seer.
bloed.

gee,
genoeg.
glad nie.
ek
jy
niks.

trane,
passie.
dood.

fast

pleasure
timely
wet skin.
sweat.
time,
slowly.

live,
learn.
need,
always.
red,
pain.
blood.

give,
enough.
never.
me
you
nothing.

tears,
passion.
death.

soft skin

2007-10-18T22:36:00.000+02:00

tears like water,
drip over lips.
no one notice,

till it's to late.

eyes black;
lost lust.

till skin is broken.

pick me up,
left to bleed dry.
soak me up through,
pours.
in rain.

before the wind dries me off.

my skin melting
into,
nothing.

Slowly dissolve breath.

I am seen for my lips.
my flaming red hair,
white soft skin.

not felt in love
of a man. the man,
the only man.

might not care,
when I get there.

Will it even be me?

Sunday Lunch

2007-10-14T13:43:00.000+02:00

Cannibal Chris and Slimy Betty, felt a bit peckish on the late Sunday afternoon. They where in no mood for leg of lamb or roasted potatoes. Pumpkin was too sweet and they eat it everyday anyway. The green beans where to stringy and the hair just got stuck between their teeth to get it out always takes hours.

Meat pie with spinach and mashed potatoes is too much work for a lazy afternoon on the farm.
Rat BBQ legs surely wont do today as there is no frozen rats to feats on, and they will catch some the day after tomorrow.

Cannibal Chris look at Slimy Betty: "Maybe we kinda sorta need a difrant treat, do ya not think it me Betty bun."

Slimy Betty look at him blankly and agrees with a deep throat snort, the green goo nearly made it out her nose before she pulled it back in.

He gets up and walks waddling strides towards the kitchen, the sounds of cutlery being moved and taken from drawers.

Cannibal Chris comes into the living room waddling towards Slimy Betty.

"We play us a came me Betty Bun, first to take a bite will eat the hole other person, what you think?"

Slimy Betty gets up and takes her fork and knife from Cannibal Chris Snorts some more goo back into her mouth.

"Be fun ya say, be fun I say too"

Taste death

2007-10-09T23:04:00.000+02:00

Smaak dood.

Stadig teen die swart maan.
bont geel sterre.

sweefend los.

van die lewelose lyk,
teen geel horisone.
drome vas gelê.

Niks kan red,
geen keuse in kleur, alles
gelos
in geur.
Swart rou.
blou geslaan.
verkrag die rooi son,
stil tot die dood in groen.
gras rus.

Ligaamlike funksie dood,
verewig.
Siels genot altyd verspot,
as jy grys, huil
teen blou lug.
Slyk is groen, glyende
massa.
tot jy,
rus
in die donkerpoele.
dood jou vind.

Taste death

Slowly against the black moon.
multi yellow stars.

gliding loosely.

from the lifeless corpse.
against yellow horizons.
dreams rest.

Save nothing,
No choice in colour, everything
lost in flavours.
Black mourning.
Bruised blue,
rape the red sun.
silent,
death in green.
grass rest.

Body function dead.
always,
souls pleasure always obscure.
if you cry, in
grey against blue skies.
slime is green,
slippery
mass.
till you rest in dark pools.
where death finds you.

Colour me

2007-10-04T22:27:00.000+02:00

black drip from my soul.
Slow is the colour that blinds me.

that binds me,

leaves me in shades of grey.

Slow teen die asem

2007-10-02T22:12:00.000+02:00

saggies snak na asem,
wat verloor in die wind.
ek nimmer meer mens,
eerder rou bestaan.

softly i gasp for breath,
it gets lost in the wind.
I am not human,
rather a raw existence.

fluister teen dowe stemme,
lag vir dooie gevrete.

fluister, jy is dood.

whisper against deaf ears,
laugh at dead faces.

Whisper, you are dead.

Breakable

2007-09-27T20:35:00.000+02:00

Breekbaar

ek kan nie voel
my hart geruk,
spattende bloed.

droë gesigte in blou,
ek wou nie rou.
jy sou my red van niks.
om te glo waar ons begin.
leuens, als verskeur.

jy is swak,
gee voor jy gee om.
dat ek lê.
treur met trane.

jy was,

is,

gaan my breek.

Breakable

I cannot feel,
my heart pierced,
splattering blood.

Dead faces in blue,
I did not want to mourn.
you wanted to safe me from nothing.
to belief where we will start.
lies, all torn apart.

you are weak,
make as if you care.
so that I can lie down.
mourn my tears.

you were,

are,

going to break me.

strong enough

2007-09-22T17:18:00.000+02:00

smother,
no breathe to pass your lips.
no kiss to cure them.

I felt and said nothing,
you teached me words.
when I used them,
you did want them anymore.

left me alone,
to cry out to nothing.

because you need time,
you convinced me,
to love,
but now it's not allowed.

I will die softly waiting.
I belief in you.
confused words.

I can cry when your not watching.
I am strong for you.

softly wishing for my fate.
to be,
or
not to be.

Speak no word,
no breath to pass my lips.

you have love

2007-09-16T21:45:00.000+02:00

Jy het liefde
ek is bang as jy nie glo,
as jy weg kyk terwyl ek veg.
sag sal my stem klink;

om doof teen jou ore te lê.

luister,
hoe ek na jou hart toe fluister,
rykdom joune as jy net neem wat jy besit.
geluk is wat jy het as jy lag.

gee ek meer hardloop jy,
minder is die twyfel sterker.
ek wil huil as ek jou liefde voel,
dis so kosbaar en so min.
Ek sal nie opgee tot jy die woord gee.
tot jy my haat.
jy kan my weg gooi,
maar vir jou sal ek veg.

ons liefde kan wen,
ek glo.

neem net my hand, asseblief.

You have love
I am afraid when you don’t believe,
when you look away while I fight.
softly my voice will sound;

when I lie deaf against your ear.

Listen,
how I whisper towards your heart,
wealth is yours just take what belongs to you.
happiness is what you have when you laugh

when I give more you run,
less the doubt is stronger.
I want to cry when I feel your love,
is so precious, so little.
I will not give up until you say the word.
until you hate me.
you can throw me away,
but I will fight for you.

our love can win,
I believe

take my hand, please.

light

2007-09-12T19:50:00.001+02:00

I won that Competition....YAY YAY....thanks for everyone that voted, I appreciate it so much:)

Light softly rose from his skin as if it illuminates from under his muscles. Lifted from the floor his body hover above the stone bed where he rested for a few minutes.
Bursting from his fingertips thin wires of light rest on the walls around him, leaving the air cut open with it's brightness. Mindless taught stroke his brain, his body softly shaking with the power that comes from within.

Destiny brought him to this place and forced him to take rest on this stone bed. What would become of his soul, his family, his life.

The revenge

2007-09-06T20:34:00.000+02:00

The Write stuff blog is hosting a writting competition and I decided to enter...So preddy please vote for me:)

Their link: http://www.take2max.com/writing/2007/08/31/sticky-short-story-contest/ ( I could not get the link to work....so hence the entire Http:))

Here is my story.

She moves across the roof tops now with a fierce hate, this time she is out to get blood of a specific person. A chance victim will not do today; she wants him to pay for what he did to Allison. She runs faster now, the wind blowing past her skin leaves a soft frost over her cheeks. Not really noticing the cold she moves on, but then again she never notices heat either. She has been in the sun and it made her skin red, it stings but being powerful all she does is focus past the pain. The city is pink as the lights play with her emotions.

He better be where Roland said he will be, or it will be Roland’s blood spilled too. She dashes through Trafalgar Square and gets to the pub where he plays the drunken fool. She enters; the music is horrible, with childish rhythm and boring words. She knows this is the type of foul place he would spend his drunken hours. The wall oozes with his ignorance. She tilts her head slightly left and scans the room; she picks up a faint scent of him. It is hidden between beer and urine smells; he must be in the bathroom. She walks slowly past a man and woman hanging onto each other, both of them are drunk.
She looks at them, their faces numb from emotion, and she scans their thoughts. Lustful, drunken needs arise in both of them, humans are such disgusting creatures. These two humans would not have even looked at each other in the street and now in their drunken state their needs arise in drunken lust. She looks to the corner as she passes the tables, a man lying on his arms, mumbling to himself about how he never knew she would leave him. He seems so pathetic, and she almost feels sorry for him.

Down the hall way her body glides, another drunken human grabs her bottom and says: “Heya love, you fancy some snogging; I bet ya you can show me heaven.” She turns around her eyes are discolored to red as she is ready for the prey that waits for her in the men’s bathroom. With one glance the man runs off in a hysterical fit. She get a slight tingle of pleasure down her spine, it would have been fun to go after the drunken fool. Her hunt is directed tonight and she cannot let her excitement of chasing a crazy drunk get the better of her at this crucial time. She walks to the men’s bathroom; human urine is such a foul smell. Yellow and thick it enters her nostrils; she has no need to vomit as she is freed from gagging this is a special gift that came with her powers. The strong stench just makes her remember the years when humans were dirty all the time. It might seem that this era is better, not by a long shot, humans are more violent now, they might be clean but their ideas are worse than ever. Modern times and games do not scare her in fact she has quite an infatuation with some of the human pleasures.

She opens the door and he is there, peeing in the urinal and swaying from side to side, all she smells now is his blood. The low life will pay for what he did to Allison; she is only 15 years old. She kept track of her family through all the years; she is now 200 years a non-mortal. Trapped in this vampire body, and she keeps her family safe and guides them where needed, and this pig hurt Allison. She waits patiently and he pulls up his zip. She secured the door, there is no way he can get out or away from her. He turns around, and he looks at her leather pants and her black corset, the fool did not see her white skin and her red eyes. He is too filled with his disgusting manly need. His speech is slurred and she does not really want to hear what he has to say. She walks to him and grabs him by the neck, he struggles, must be such an awful feeling for a man to have no power against such a small woman. She digs her nails into his neck and a thin line of blood runs down onto his cheap shirt. He is now gasping like a fish out of water and she cannot contain her pleasure for his pain anymore and she laughs.

“No” he gasps through his breath.

“No, is something that I do not know, like you forgot what it means the night you followed Allison home” Her voice is hate.

She rests him against the wall and pushes her fangs through his sweaty skin, the part she despises most, the salty, bitter taste of human sweat. It repulses her, but she knows once she gets to the blood she will be relieved of the taste. She feels how the blood bursts into her mouth, thick and warm, strong taste of iron, rough on the tongue. Living through the pleasure as he kicks and fights against her. He stops moving and she lets go of his lifeless body. She looks at him as he lies there opened eyed gazing at the flickering lights between urinals.

“Sorry sweetheart, I just had an itch I needed to scratch”

death inside

2007-09-03T23:06:00.000+02:00

whisper into nothing,
prayers never answered.
you curse and scream in silence.

I would rather die.
in a tiny black box,
my soul locked away for life.

I am dead already
Just come and take my body.

Slow,

I spiral into nothing.
never knowing who I am.
lost
misguided.
alone.

I bring it on myself they say.
I smile at stranger,
I help where I can

no,
you feel to freely,
care so easily.

your doomed to die in black Myst.
in red hate.

you deserve nothing more.

Love will last

2007-08-27T19:01:00.000+02:00

Sitting by the window he looks like a stone statue, never moving just breathing. I want to tell him I still love him, like when we where still young. The days we where in love and now he just sits there. I am not sure if he hears my cries at night, missing his embrace, missing his soft whispers that he loves me. He always was so gentle in my slumber I could feel him pulling me closer. Now they need to help him into bed, we don't share a bed anymore. He once lied on top of me and because he could not move he nearly killed me, so the doctors decided, no more sharing.

I watch them feed him everyday, see the dead expression in his eyes. He had such a dazzle in his smile and lights in his eyes. He had a naughty smile that made me melt.
He could pic me up and carry me around like I had no weight at all, now he just sits and stares. The other peoples kids come and visit, and then their gran children come and climb on his lap, sometimes there runs a tear down his cheek. We could never have kids, we never had that privilege. The cemo made me very sick and my body rejected two fetuses. He stood by me and loved me even if I had nothing more to offer him.

Our live was happy and he was the lost part of my soul, even if his body cannot do what it could I will still be here every day. I will remind him of our holiday in Monaco. The beaches we walked in Spain, and all the love we made in all the countries we visited. I sometimes blush to think we where so wild and free. I would not want it any other way, we had love every day.

He sits there and stare out the window, his body tired and wrinkled, he is still the man I love.
I softly whisper in his ear: "No, matter what happens I still love you" He smiles with the one side of his mouth and I kiss his forehead.

I saw a add for a documentary about an elderly couple the husband had Alzheimer's and he could barely move....it is sad, so sad.

Everybody breaks on that day

2007-08-20T19:30:00.000+02:00

"SJUUT"

"SJUUT"

"Please be quite, I cannot stand you crying."

The baby is lying on the sofa crying, but I am not telling her to be quite. I am trying to calm myself. I actually took her. It all happened so fast, she smiled at me her mom was on the phone looking out the window, not giving her any attention. I just took her, nobody stopped or looked my way. I had my hat on and my sunglasses, got off at Canary Wharf. Went into a building got rid of the hat and glasses and my jacket. How did I know exactly where the CCTV cameras were facing?

I just took her.

The baby is crying, I need to calm myself and see that she is fine. The neighbours will find it strange that there is a crying baby in the house. They heard the fight that night in the street, they know he left me cause my body is broken. They know I am not a woman, just 28 and so called God decided I am not allowed kids, he just gave me a growth in my uterus. They know I am broken.

"Pick up the baby, do it now!" my own voice startles me.
Her small body is warm and soft, she smells of baby. She is beautiful I try and calm her, just softly press her against my heart. This is what I missed all these years, this is what I will never have. It feels amazing and the little body calms down and stops crying. I stand there instinctly softly hoping her with my body and slowly swinging from side to side.
I have to get formula, nappies, bottles, she must be wet and hungry. I did not prepare. I just looked at all the kids on the train each day and longed for one more and more each day. I want a child more than I need to breathe.
So I just took her.
Home shopping, thank goodness for home shopping. I get my laptop out and order the stuff I need. She sits quitly on my lap and coo at the screen.
I use the credit card he left here, so they don't trace me here. How do I know all these criminal things. I frighten myself, I took a child.
What's worse is I am not planning to give her back, her mother did not pay attention to her, she was to busy talking to her boyfriend(from what I can gather). I can't believe I am trying to validate my actions. I wanted a child since we got married four years ago, he also wanted kids. He just walked out the day he heard, I am broken, he just walked out.

She fell asleep on my shoulder. I lie her down on my bed and make a small bed for her in the corner. I don't want her to fall off the bed. She is so soft and tranquil in sleep, she smells like a baby. Before I lie her down on the baby bed I softly smell her hair and kiss her forehead.

The doorbell rings, its my online delivery has it been an hour already. I seem to miss time, I am day dreaming about things too much. I take the stuff into the kitchen and read every label over and over. Sterilize the bottles get everything ready, to feed and bathe her when she wakes up. I have to do this right, she needs to be looked after.

No watching the news tonight, I have allot to do, I need to be prepared.
The doorbell goes again.

Poetry Thursday

2007-08-16T19:43:00.000+02:00

Kook

ek herhaal die tyd.
in treine,
die mense is vaal.
bleek,
seer.
luister hoe hul stemme;
blou ruik
soos hul wurg.
in hul eie kots.

Kots wat vorm in hul,
aaklige;
Vervelige lewens.
ek is siek,
vir die kak.
die ewige gemors,
die piss reuk op elke stasie.
Mense wat vir hulself sing.
Na drank ruik en lyk,

genoeg het ek van hierdie pikswart,
stad van haat
Gehad,
Elke aand
Moor,
Verkrag,
Verdrink
Hul, hul sorge.

ek het nou my kookpunt bereik.
my haat borrel uit soos water wat kook,
Ek haat elke walglike atoom van die stad.

Boil

I repeat time.
in trains,
the people are pale.
bleak,
sore.
listen how their voices;
smell blue
like they choke.
In their own puke.

Puke that they form,
Horribly;
Boring lives.
I am sick,
Of this shit.
Of all this mess,
the stench of piss on every station.
People that sing to themselves.
That smell of alcohol and look of it too,

I had enough of this pitch black,
city of hate
Every evening
they kill,
rape,
drown
their worries.

I have reached boiling point.
My hate boils out like water,
I hate every atom of this horrible city.

slow motion

2007-08-15T21:17:00.000+02:00

slow motion,
feet not moving,
unable to reach,
please take my hand.

I cannot stand,
in the cold;

alone.

All I wish for; is
to feel your skin everyday,
your breath blown out in sleep.

why

why
why
why

why

Why does life hate me so.
broken coloured glass to cut my skin,
blood red against-green glass,
beauty in pain.

the end might be that,
might be this,
it must come.
now
now
now.

Swart Reën/ Black rain

2007-08-14T19:38:00.000+02:00

Swart Reën

Sag as die water loop,
oor strate en spore van niks.
luister die fluister is sag,
glad nie soet nie.
dis iets wat my seer maak,
soos rou wonde in die son bak.
die stank is sterk,
saggies kan ek opstaan;
uit stof wolke van reën.

Black Rain

soft as the water flows,
over streets and tracks of nothing.
listen the wisper is soft,
not at all sweet.
this is something that hurts me,
like open wounds baking in the sun.
the stench is strong,
soflty I will stand up;
out of dustclouds of rain.

Please

2007-08-08T22:15:00.000+02:00

alone,

why so far,
to make me breath
your skin.
It is a sin,
want someone so much,
not have it now
have it later.

soft does my heart cry.
want it bad,

need it more.

universe, please.
need to be happy,
just or once.

too much to ask.

I don't think so.
I just need to feel
like I did those days.

soft perfection.

Asseblief

Kan ek asseblief net in jou sagte perfeksie lê
moet ek die hemel vra?
kan ek net vir eens geluk voel.
Sonder pyn.
Asseblief

Diffrent men

2007-08-03T15:57:00.000+02:00

She ran so fast but her legs must bare one more step, she could not stop now, they where behind her. The trees seemed to wrap her in darkness and the crows slowly moved like lazy Shadow between the leaves. The blood racing from her neck started to dry on her skin and it cracked, like the earth would crack in drought.

What if they could smell the blood and that is how they have been following her for the last hour or so. She ripped the bottom part of her black dress off and wrapped it around her neck. Her breathing was slow and the air escaping trough her wound made a bubbling sound. She remembers when she was only seven her father made bubbles in the dish washing water, the soap made bubbles and that entertained her. Ironic that the sound of pleasure could be remembered with this event of hate. Trough her childhood they stayed in the wooden cabin deep in the forest, she never even knew there was a world beyond these trees.

The day she ventured past the big trees at the edge of the forest was the day she met her doom, even if she did not know it at that moment in time. The events that followed was what brought her to this moment, throat slit breathing like soap bubbles and trying to hide from men. These men her father warned her about, they take what you are not willing to give and if they do not understand what you are they would kill you just for the joy of blood.

She hides behind the old oak, the side hidden from the path it had a big hole in the roots. She pretended it was her house when she was younger and now it will be her hiding place. She hears the light of their torches coming closer, the smell of their voices makes her skin crawl.

They must not find her, her body shivers in the cold air, it might even be the amount of blood she lost. Shock.

Their feet speeds them closer to her and she knows that she cannot continue running now or they will surely see her. She sits quietly inside the roots trying not to breathe, they will definitely hear the bubbles in her breath.

Slowly she exhales, soft bubbles murmur under her blood soaked scarf.

She hears one of them stop close to her hide out, his sweat leaves a soft stench in the air.

The crows in the trees are upset now, and they start flying out, cawing in hate as their slumber was disturbed by the men and the bleeding woman

The Craws scatter trough the branches and the men start moving again.

ou lesse/Old lessons

2007-07-28T15:17:00.000+02:00

eat my skin,
between words;
in flesh,
enough said.

Stadig, ritmies
die nag in
oor en oor
die sag syfer van lig.
deur ure gestruikel om saam te luister,
ek is hier
genoeg gesê.

eet my vel,
tussen woorde;
in vlees,
genoeg gesê.

slowly, rhythmic
into the night
over and over
the soft filter of light.
struggled trough hours to listen together,
I am here.
enough said.

as die tyd op is,
hoe gaan ons weet?
roep die maan ons.
luister die sterre
as ons asem op raak.
fluister my genot tydelik na.

I am not to blame for wanting more
I am fragile and weak
my bones are soaked in vinegar
touch me and I will break
feel me and I will fake
I am not,
so learn the same old lesson.

if the time runs out,
how will we know?
will the moon call us.
does the stars listen
if our breath is used up.
whisper after my pleasure only timely.

Ek is nie skuldig dat ek meer wil hê nie
Ek is breekbaar en swak.
my bene is in asyn geweek
raak aan my en ek sal breek
voel my ek sal dit namaak.
ek is nie,
so leer die selfde ou les.

Mouldering

2007-07-18T20:34:00.000+02:00

I wrote this a while back, just took one word from the Oxford dictionary. How did I decide which word? I just opened the book, pointed my finger and here it is!!
I have edited it a little bit...seeing that I did change allot since this was written....its about 4 months old:)

Mouldering:

All will fade in time.

My words wont be spoken,
my voice will slip away.
soft like death.
i will fade into history.
nothing much that a story,
that someone once left in glory.

I wish to be heard;
from now until eternity,
Where ever that might be.

Alas,
I have no child to read to.

I have no husband to hold on to.

I have my fading words.
my strong voice,
hear me now,
it will echo into distance.
it will not fade,
mouldering pages.
of my life.

we get born,
to die.
or do we live,
to love.
I will not disintegrate;
I will not fade away;
you will read these words.
you will hear my voice;
I am not a shadow.

Numbers

2007-07-10T18:58:00.000+02:00

two, two
@ nine ten
terminal three
walk walk
one between four doors
lane two
room seven eight
ten litres of water
clean
skin
four chocolates
two tubs of ice cream
the one
thirty five years.
happy always.

closer

2007-07-01T21:07:00.000+02:00

i see your skin.
trough naked eyes;
bare skin pulse.
the open body,
need to feel I can touch.
break me in,
so I can feed off you.

what is in you,
that I need so.
only pulsing lust
feel the beat,
over and over.
in and deep,
and again.

penetrate souls
believe in what this is
feel, beat.
in, out
feel, breath
more.
deep
soon
now.
break in a burst of need.

voel as ek ruk.
hoe my hart jou verruk,
genoeg is wat ek soek,
nog as ek lê,
om vergeet te word.
Breuk my in van die begin

The Afrikaans is not translated form the English;)

swart/black

2007-06-21T22:10:00.000+02:00

Swart

Voel ritme een oor en oor,
gil my siel in swart roet.
geniet pyn soos vrees,
gil my na, ek kan hoor.
kies net anders.
ek is gebroke siel oorgelos;
in vlees.

Als is stadig teen my refleksie,
geweldadig verander.

Demoon in my herroep.
wat slegs pyn uit soek, al is ek
waar.
Ek sien die trane vloei oor my wang
niks vermy dit nie.

sterf in goedheid.
Sukkel met verandering
word naar,
braak klaar,
wat weet jy?

Sieklik verknors,
in my eie gemors.
gee op.
Begin weer.
weer.
'n keer.

Jy sien die selfde demoon.
saam dra,
aan goed wat jy nie kan sien nie.
ek het pynlike kennis.
van niks.
word siek, word naar,
als is veraltyd klaar.

Black

Feel the rhythm over and over,
scream my soul in black ash
enjoy pain like fear,
shout behind me, I can hear.
just chose differently.
I am a broken soul leftover;
in flesh.

Everything is slow against my reflection,
violently changed

Demon summoned inside of me.
that only search for pain, even if I am
where.
I see the tears stream down my cheek.
nothing stops its way.

die in goodness.
battle with change
get Nauseous,
finish trowing up,
What do you know?

Sickly worried,
in my own mess.
give up.
Start again.
again.
one more time.

You see the same demon.
caries with him,
the stuff that you cannot see.
I have painful knowledge,
of nothing.
be sick, trow up.
everything is finished forever.

my eie skuld/My own fault

2007-06-20T22:41:00.000+02:00

Ek is dood/I am dead.

The Coward

2007-06-13T20:01:00.000+02:00

The Coward

I loved her,
He was my everything
Had to hurt her,
He had no choice this I know
I loved her,
I loved him
Had to make her cry,
Tears was all I needed
I loved her,
He was my everything
Had to leave her,
I only saw his back,
I loved her,
I loved him,
Couldn’t watch her die
My body will leave today
I love her still,
Without him I am lost,
It hurts me,
I saw his pain,
I love her still,
I will always be his
I cry,
his tears are black
I love her still,
I need him here
It breaks me,
Souls will cry
I love her still,
I love him always
I beg to die
Its over soon.

it will come back to haunt

2007-06-05T19:21:00.000+02:00

She moves across the roof tops now with a fears hate, this time she is out to get blood of a specific person. Pure chance of a victim will not do today; she wants him to pay what he did to Allison. She runs faster now, the wind blowing past her skin leaves a soft frost over her cheeks. She does not really notice the cold, she never notice heat. She has been in the sun, it just really stings but being powerful all she does is focus past the pain. The city is pink as the lights play with her emotions.

He better be where Roland said he will be, or it will be Roland’s blood spilled too. She dashes trough Trafalgar square and get to the pub he plays the drunken fool. She enters the music is horrible, with childish rhythm and boring words.
She knows this is the type of foul place he would spend his drunken hours. The wall oozes with his ignorance. She tilt her head slightly left and scan the room, she picks up a faint scent of him. It is hidden between beer and piss; he must be in the bathroom. She walks slowly past a man and woman hanging onto each other, both of them are drunk. She looks at them their faces numb from emotion, she scan their thoughts. Lustful, drunken needs arise in both of them, human are such fulgurous creatures. These two humans would not have even looked at each other in the street and now in their drunken state they needs arise in drunken lust. She looks to the corner as she passes the tables, a man lying on his arms, mumbling to himself about how he never knew she would leave him. He seems so pathetic, and she almost feels sorry for him.

She moves down the corridor, a drunken male grabs her ass and says: “Heya love, you fancy some snogging, I bet ya you can show me heaven.” She turns around her eyes are discolored to red as she is ready for the prey that waits for her in the men’s bathroom. With one glance the man runs off in a hysterical fit. She get a slight tingle of pleasure down her spine, would have been fun to go after the drunken fool. Her hunt is directed tonight and she cannot let her excitement of chasing a crazy drunk get the better of her now. She walks to the men’s bathroom; human piss is such a foul smell. Yellow and thick it enters her nostrils; she has no need to vomit as she is freed from gagging. The strong stench just makes her remember the years when humans where dirty all the time. It might seem that this era is better, not by a long shot, humans are more violent now, they might be clean but their ideas are worse than ever. Modern times and games do not scare her in fact she has quite an infatuation with some of the human pleasures.

She opens the door and he is there, peeing in the urinal and swaying from side to side, all she smells now is his blood. The bastard will pay for what he did to Allison, she is only 15 years old. She kept track of her family trough all the years, she is now 200 years a non-mortal. Trapped in this vampire body, and she keeps her family safe and guide them where needed, and this pig hurt Allison. She waits patiently and he pulls up his zip.

She secured the door, there is no way he can get out or away from her. He turns around, and he looks at her leather pants and her black corset, the fool did not see her white skin and her red eyes. He is too filled with his disgusting horniness. His speech is slurred and she does not really want to hear what he has to say. She walks to him and grab him by the neck, he struggle, must be such an awful feeling for a man to have no power against such a small woman. She digs her nails into his neck and a thin line of blood runs down into his cheap shirt. He is now gasping like a fish out of water and she cannot contain her pleasure for his pain anymore and she laughs.

“No” he gasp trough his breath.

“No, is something that I do not know like you forgot what it means the night you followed Allison home” her voice is hate.

She rest him against the wall and push her fangs trough his sweaty skin, the part she despise most, the salty, bitter taste of human sweat. It repulse her, but she knows ones she gets to the blood she will be relieved of the taste. She feels how the blood burst into her mouth, thick and warm, strong taste of iron, rough on the tongue. She lives trough the pleasure as he kicks and fights against her. He stops moving and she lets go of his lifeless body. She looks at him as he lies there opened eyed gazing at the flickering lights between piss and shit.

“Sorry sweetheart, I just had an itch I needed to scratch”

not knowing what to say.

2007-06-03T23:06:00.000+02:00

slow between words.
soft against skin,
broken into breast.
knowing where to go,
when lips move in to touch.

I am yours in minutes,
we stole them yesterday.
I am not forgiven,
if I steal you away today.

I know I am nothing in the universe,
but I can be someone to you.
I can take care where life has left you,
I can heal the wounds that was left open.

I want you
today,
to be there for me in the morning
I might know nothing.
crazy are the words I am.
sometimes I am broken.
black is the night,
we met and stayed.
I want you to make my day.

If you need me to be yours,
I am here to stay.

Photo by Trent(alias)

Slow

2007-05-31T21:36:00.000+02:00

Slow in motion;
move in skin that weep.
rub me up,
wrong ways;
to find love.
creep between life and love.
light can not break,
the dawn is new.
open your eyes;
to a new day.

crawling in walls of hate,
longing for everything to break;
skin renew,
blood will dry black.
night might never come.
I am human,
I am new.
Flesh will move
Skin will grow.

I cannot see what they feel.
I can not hear when they breathe.
am I no one if the clock runs out of hours?
will I be seen;
for brilliance?
will I be known
for words?
only when the hour tick into your life!
it all will be known.

The long walk

2007-05-17T01:16:00.000+02:00

Walking to light that does not warm up when you feel it.
When your skin leaves a faint dust of nothing, till the end calls.
Till the night falls...I am man who wonders on broken time.
Who rest in the arms of no one.
Be my life, be my breath, I need to feel that I am still alive.

Loop na die lig wat nie warm word as jy hom voel nie.
As jou vel 'n flou stof van niks los, tot die eiende roep.
Tot die nag voor jou val.. Ek is man, wat op stukkende tyd loop.
Wat in geen een se arms rus nie.
Wees my lewe, wees my asem, ek nodig om te voel dat ek nog lewe.

I saw this picture on my friends Myspace page and I just felt these words, I left them as a comment by the picture...I hope he likes it.

fake soul

2007-05-13T16:39:00.000+02:00

She was odd, her skin pale and almost see through. She had the scent of beauty, the pleasure of a smile. She only has her heart to offer as her outer body was left in pain too long. Like a sunburned bug dried to the core. No one might choose her and her loving ways will be lost to the world. What a pity it’s all so fake.

Please do not look away as she needs to be seen for who she is, not what she is suppose to be. Can everything be so plastic, molded in perfect cups, molded to fit in a box? To fuck old men, in classy places, to lower your standards because you think this is how you will be seen. The bathrooms are filled with woman that has no clothing on, fix their makeup. Toilets over flowing to vile piss and puss boiling to the surface of humanity. Colour their skin with makeup and powders hide their true being. Between mascara lashes and between eye shadow the soul does not matter. You need to fit, so perfect in plastic, be fake, be not you. She will move her body in slow motion, like a breeze trough paper on the black pavement. No power needed in the world of plastic, no emotion needed in Botox. Lips a pout, legs are open, body used, as long as they are seen. What is left of you, when there is no more youth in your bones, and empty carcass of old stories, of sex in famous places. There is no substance, no soul, and no real life.

She will move trough the anger, the sadness, the fear of being ugly. Her soul will bring the butterflies of beauty to places of greatness. In words she will spell her heart, will spell her love, and will spell her happiness.

Fun with a bun?

2007-05-12T11:44:00.000+02:00

Run, run, run
Three men and a bun
Might be just for fun.

Fun, fun, fun
Never in the sun
Always on the run

Back, back, back
Maybe in a sack
That’s meant for your back

Next, next, next
I am writing silly text.
Until we meet next.

I am leaving

2007-04-26T10:42:00.000+02:00

I have decided to do my last poetry Thursday...don't know if its forever and a day.
I will ask the ladies to remove my name from the list, sad that might be, but I am entering my new life soon moving to another country, trying to get some of my dreams in place.
Getting my books fixed to be sent out and hopefully published. So it is kinda goodbye for now.....but not forever...
I will still write a few story blog entries next week if I have time...my weird talk blog is shut till I can blog again.

Back to the task at hand:

Poetry Thursdays weekly totally free suggestion is a Villanelle....I battle to get my stuff to fit into a perfect little packet.....googled a bit....found a good description: 19 lines, 5(para)=3 lines each, 6th one=4 lines, 2 rhyme sounds, 1+3 line rhymes....that's how I defined it for myself.

So here goes:

Time has come

I have nothing more to say.
My day is gone,
no one can ask me to stay.

I decided to be free today,
Never look back.
There is nothing more to say.

I have lived in fear.
I have felt the pain,
Can you feel it coming near.

The moment of tears,
I have dried them all before,
all trapped inside my fears.

goodbye my dear,
see you soon.
the end is near.

I came here to feel;
I left here to be free.
The end is near,
Goodbye my dear.

Keep save everybody, see you all soon...don't forget me when I am gone;)

Birthdays

2007-04-25T11:57:00.000+02:00

Tomorrow I turn thirty and I keep thinking back to my third birthday.

It was a sunny day and as always mom dressed me in my cute sun clothes. I had my sun hat on and it was time for my party. Friends streaming through the front door like little soldiers, brining packages with the most gorgeous colours and pictures on. I understood the torture of wanting to open presents no matter for who it was, it was a present and it needed unwrapping.
The tables where decorated with pink and purple table cloths and teddy bears every where. Streamers from the roof and balloons, how I loved balloons. Mom would always give me one and I would kick and throw it around for hours. When it eventually popped I would jump up from the fright I got and mom would come and scoop me up in her arms. She would give me another balloon once I calmed down.

Cupcakes and sweets, cheese curl, ice cream, jelly tots, little biscuits with faces. Orange, yellow, green, red, purple cool drink in teadybear cups. Tooters to blow on, hats for all my friends, we looked like and army of fun. We played and ate sweeties, our hyperactivity growing. Running round and round the house, playing princess in my new doll house that granddad made for me. I opened my presents I got teddy bears and dolls, colouring books, oil crayons. How I loved every moment, my friends faces gleaming with delight and pleasure.
Mom and Dad also smiled and enjoyed every minute. All my friends parents where also playing with us. What a glorious, colourful, happy day. I will never forget that day.

Well I am older now, wiser, life seems so simple when you turn three all you need to do is have fun and eat and laugh, and cry occasionally.

My body is frail and thin now; I am weak as I lie here in hospital.
It’s been six months till they diagnosed the cancer in my colon.
They say I might not make summer.
My little girl turns three then, I hope I live to see that colourful happy day.

When souls drift

2007-04-24T10:50:00.000+02:00

This moment was pending in time, for it is my destiny. My Katana held tightly in my hand, the fear of the impending battle boiling in my blood. I am not suppose to fear what lies before me, I am a samurai, and been in training for this moment. The Katana sword is small and thin and the sharp blade reflects the light of the sun, like a glorious source of power.

I am fearful.
I am afraid of dying.
I have to kill others in the name of what my country believes, do I even believe?

I am to serve as I am a samurai. I must do what I am told.
The armour is pale shades of green and red the leather is heavy and uncomfortable, seems like it is pushing the fear of my heart back into my body. The irony in all of this is I am feared by the simple country men, soldiers, nations. I am seen as a monster my mask shows ugly frowns and mean eyes. Underneath this mask I am a pale thin eyed man, my body is muscular from all the combat training.
I can not use my power to kill other, my soul will die and fly away in the wind forever. I will be a drifter among men, it will be my punishment. To take another soul in hate, in violence is not what this country needs.
We need peace, we need love, but before that they say we need freedom.

My horse is ready, the beast dressed with colour in rags of death. Fear steaming from its nostrils. He taps his hooves uneasy, making it sound like thunder as he hits the floor. My beast you fear your death like I fear mine. We will enter this battle together, we will fight till our end.

Rage drives us forward, my heart still locked in it's cage of fear. My eyes wide, my Katana held high, hacking trough the foot shoulders.
I took arms and heads, slashed faces, killed young men, kill for my believe.
I am the barbarian they talk of.
I am forced forward by my new found lust for killing.

I feel a warm numb pain in my left arm, the heat rise to my face.
I fall to the floor, my eyes roll back, I see the sun. A pale relieve in it's heat.
My soul will drift now endlessly among the men I slain.

Based on a dream a friend had:)