finding myself …

if she asks
                   do tell her

      it was having lost her

              that led me down the path

                           to finding myself

at last

just be mine …

when quivering lips meet

&

tongues

& whispers soothe each sigh

the ache of two vagabond souls yearning to share a few moments,

to share, to feel again,
memories and pain intermingled

seeking a peace so elusive to find …

‘it’s then
I must still my thundering heart, my love

&
close my eyes,

just hoping against reason,
that when I awake

you shall still be lying here beside me

and that you shall still
be mine

be mine …

when soft hues meet

waltzing
quivering tongues
& whispers entwine

your hair across my chest …

… so shhh my love, my life,
say barely a word

just lie here
& be mine

dreams of you …

in dreams of you

your kisses slip

falling

fluttering as petals do

washing over me
caressing away pain

as gentle as the jo’burg rain

The Good Native

may I never bow,
kowtow,

do the jig that’s expected of me,

a wind-up toy,

the good native who knows just how to act, talk,

how to be

the solitude of night …

Night gathers the shards of my splintering heart,

mending fractures.

Ever mindful,
knowing,

that tomorrow may shred it all apart …

Where Wild Grasses Grow …

effortlessly soaring into abandoned flight,

yesterdays’ pain surrenders,,

drawn gently by,

departing moments’ caressing ebb and dreamy flow,

seeking only sanctuary,

to finally rest,

where wild grasses grow …

raindrops …

raindrops,
like celestial nectar,

drench my winter coat.

i stagger,
wounded,
half-blind,

though no longer filled with dread,

for i walk on,

unsure,
oh yes, most certainly so,

yet filled with murmuring promises,

as i welcome the myriad paths that lie ahead …

Talkin’ Idle Existential Blues …

panning through marshes of  twisted roots,

scrounging for a handful of promised truths,

thawing wounds aching afresh,

discarded emotions gnawing into now catatonic flesh …

we walk on, ever on,

fleeing the tumult of yesterdays sorrow,

we walk on, ever on,

thirsting for a glimpse of that liberating tomorrow,

to finally rid the heaving heart of the weight of the past,

content no more with brief, tenuous ceasefires,

but hungering instead for a peace that shall last …

Beneath a Milky Moon

Then:

Desire enveloped us,
stoking fierce passions,
beneath a milky moon,

your abandoned kisses,
left me breathless,
under a starlit sky,

love silenced our nights,
a serene peace settling,
filling empty desolation,

at rest at long last,
your presence my final abode,
each caress rich with hope.

Now:

your absence is felt,
each day, every night,
throttling my dreams,

crawling inside a void,
my crumbling heart weary,
knowing you may never return,

all promises lay strewn,
like quiet wilting flowers,
brushing against my thoughts,

defeated by your love,
my tortured breathing,
is shallow, agonising, slow,

each memory a jagged ache,
knowing you left,
a thousand moons ago.

Port of Call – a re-post of one of Scribbler’s favourite scribbles

Port of Call

…
…

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

with the breath of the ocean a caressing balm,

soothing pained memories away,

to the swaying of a solitary palm.

…

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

feeling the brushing away of all past turmoil,

on a quest for solace,

ever so hard to find,

yet comforted by the crashing of the waves,

as the tide cleanses all pain,

and leaves despair far, far behind.

…

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

drenched in a sea-breeze of mist,

that hushes the ache of bygone moons,

tasting the salty tang on my lips,

as the burnished sun,

over the distant horizon,
swoons,

and dips.

…

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

searching, ever searching,

for a slice of solitude,

as memory bids a final adieu,

reaching under the sea so vast,

and seeking comfort in the depths,

while embracing,

the tomorrows to come,

wishing that they be true.

…

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

seeing my truths drown,

as they slip beneath the turquoise waters,

feeling my heart ablaze,

with a passion that rarely falters.

…

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

yet knowing that I am home at long last,

wishing the waves would wash away,

the defences that once stood,

like an impregnable wall.

…

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

I have found, at long last,

my final port of call.

A Promise of Love

Sprinkling kisses,
on dusty lips,

as,

knots of desire,
twist beneath the veneer.

A yearning heart,
dipped in a blazing cauldron,

knows not,
the coolness of the dew,

settling on the dawn petals,
lonesome as a solitary tear.

Cast away, floating,
adrift on the waters of fate,

I catch,
at last,

a glimpse of love.

Fleeting, impermanent,

yet,
poised to take flight,

to soar,
into the great blue sky,

while alone,
again,

I feel the tugging need,

of surrendering to the ocean,

and,
embracing the unknown,
in a slow dance.

A tango with truth, and with unshackled love,

as the dice rolls,

with the intoxicating promise,

of,
that final chance