remaining afloat,
waves hurling the mind in
unchartered waters.
no anchors in these seas,
in the void, hopeless, adrift,
beseeching the cloak of despair to lift,
to subdue the relentless ache,
knowing,
that in the morrow, the pain shall begin to throb,
yet again.
eGoli – City of Gold – Johannesburg
The Deluge …
finally the deluge,
skipping rhythmic heartbeats,
leaving behind rats racing on frenetic city streets,
caressing lonesome weeds, sprinkling crystal beads on gently waving reeds,
soft sprinkling rain,
a soothing balm banishing pain,
lulling, cajoling, comforting weary evenings,
glistening leaves
on rain soaked trees,
hope afloat on the misty breeze,
each blade of grass shimmering,
rough diamonds strewn about,
the rainbows in every drop glistening,
settling in my heart,
softly lilting touches of peace, of truth,
hushed promises of a new start
of finally being a part,
as the rains sweeps away,
the debris of the now,
the numb detritus of yesterday ….
the seesawing of my mind.
sleepless nights creep past,
clawing at the edges of my mind,
days spent shuffling through the blur,
adrift, untethered,
clambering through the thicketty haze,
anchorless,
lost amidst the racing minutes,
revelling in an insom-maniacal daze,
at times reeling,
feeling spent,
torn,
broken,
the words, the scribbled verse,
for better or worse,
a sanctuary, secluded,
shielded from barbed tongues,
barbed words casually spoken,
seesawing, walking the tightrope,
clinging,
fingers scraped,
wreaking bloodless wounds,
the quest continuing for a shard of hope,
the ability to cope,
staying afloat,
bracing the torrents,
ever mindful,
of being perched on the precipice,
of my seesawing mind,
fearful of sliding up-down,
the perennial slippery slope,
a man on a wire,
no safety net, no rope,
aching to stand up,
to walk unaided once again,
through the fog,
the blur,
the haze,
the daze,
lashed by these blizzards of pain,
through the thicket,
on a rapid runaway train,
hurtling against the embedded grain,
seeking respite,
craving refuge,
from the incessant,
ceaseless,
slicing rain …
timeless love.
our eyes mask many a sorrow,
torn hopes, bygone dreams,
lost in the folds of ceaseless time,
whispered murmurs, ebbing in the tide of tepid rhyme.
but,
have these disjointed verses bound us through painful tears,
as we held each other close, through the travails of the years,
our wrinkled faces smiling,
as the end nears.
the rains over jo’burg …
the african rain envelopes all,
shushing the noise and quelling the din,
scalding the skin,
raging inflamed and ablaze,
deep within …
… as fingertips scribble verses on a soft naked back,
as couplets are whispered in ears, stoking the fire,
flesh achingly sweltering, with untamed desire,
the dancing candlelight sweeping across a sensuous body,
the yearning wild, begging for a sweet sensual taste,
of lips to be sipped,
gently at first,
and only later with greedy haste,
as the rains caress jo’burg with the sounds of an unending pitter-patter,
two bodies entwined, hungrily devouring each other,
while savouring the sensations that consumes them all,
in the twilight, amidst the rainbow,
as the soft sunlight takes leave,
and as another dusk over the blazing african skies,
begins to fall …
hewn into my being,
carved across my heart,
weaving through my mind,
embossed in my soul,
it remains,
a persistent reminder:
your name
whispering petals caressing your skin, murmurs of long lost kisses, left adrift in the breeze of fate, of hopes crushed underfoot, of you and i, lost amidst the cruel fate of time, of space,
but still, and evermore,
it shall always be, forever more, the searing image,
of the memory of your face …
Scribbled Verse 
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