All I hope to be

There's an infinite space of love and hate between us,
I'd like collide with the molecules so they can explode
give room for us to bridge the gap and delve in that space.

Love is a choice, one we decide upon after feasting our eyes,
inciting our minds and then dosing our hearts with desire,
from which we move past heat to let our souls find peace.

We often loathe the ones we love it's a paradox lovers unlock,
but if you love someone enough you out to tough out than tap out
for it's not them you hate but some traits that bate your temper.

That's why lovers come to terms so I'd like to draft a contract,
where none of us are condemned for going contra to popular belief.
For love comes dwindling like leaves and you never know when it'll leave.

I wish we didn't have to speak 'cause speech is often misleading,
I'd rather interpret the braille of your body to tell when you're famished,
either sexually, mentally, physically, I am fluent but you love to talk so,

I'd like to fine dine in conversation before consummation,
See there's many lies I can tell you for me to slide aside,
your panties to dive where the least of my bounty lies

See love is war, I'm a commander, I feast on enemy territory,
but the leader in me despite seeking glory prefers to use democracy.
To negotiate and come to terms where you and I can dwell in peace.

I'd like to bedazzle you with jewels but jewels are for fools,
I'm sure you know that, you're an intelligent woman so let me,
corrupt your heart and mind with the beauty of fond memories,

Treasures you hold onto that might fade but can't be stolen,
Pleasures that please you when I am long gone and forgotten,
Ayeh whether I'm forgotten or not I'll leave a piece of me begotten,

I want to be a better man than I should be, could be, use to be
'cause all those clauses are nothing but if, buts, and maybe's,
and maybe that's above me but isn't it good that you inspire me? 

Touch wood!

The good God up above-

has granted us bountiful love,

with which we've made merry,

and many have tied knots in its sanctuary.

In guise, many use it to improvise; 

to masquerade as lonely souls seeking love's fortitude,

so they cheat, manipulate, persuade and tell lies,

abusing it instead of paying gratitude.

Yet still, God has given to us like ardent parents,

who have the right to but don’t treat us like tenants.

It's disgraceful how we counteract His Goodwill,

as we stir up debauchery exercising our freewill,

Love letter

Dear love,
            I have written to you many a day but you must be busy.
First off;
I would like to commend you on helping me fall head first over and over again, It was worth the ride downhill; ayeh, at the end of the journey I seemed somewhat surprised by the pain in return.
Second;
May times I have tried to understand you but all in vain despite persistent effort. So I would like you to send me a users manual to get me through the basics of getting to know you a tad more.
Third;
I talked to cupid recently and he said he wanted to quit.
I wonder how you’re going to administer in coming times? I am sorry to be delivering this information to you but he said you have recently been out of your gourd and have often sent him to wrong clients.  Many of whom have averted to administering hate.
Fourth;
A message from one of your patients;
love, sir/madam J
Unfortunate for you, fortunate for me that I have been able to consummate without your help. On that note, I will no longer require your services. If you please, forgive me for inciting hatred. Many of my ex-partners(dissatisfied clients) distressed and bewildered have let me go for my unruly behaviour. Nonetheless, I am feeling orgasmic! 
                                            Your dear friend, Casanova.
Fifth and last;
It is high time you got off your feet and talked to these people that are getting betrothed without your consent. It is because of these people that words like; Bitch, gold digger, broke nigger, stupid nigger, white trash whore, white tramp, little Chinese faggot, divorce and many other words of the like.(Excuse my French) Have become quite common within the world. So please, come in quick and rinse out all these dirty mouths that are larking around the world.
Thank you,                                                                               
Anonymous.

Dead shot!

I can't lie,
the heat down here is dreadful!
And I can't  get another shot to live.

I remember;
my mother always told me I was such a kicker.
I only wish I saw the signs of that picture.
I neglected it and carried on serving hate like a pitcher.
I hated life, I hated love, I hated mankind, I was bitter..

Always ready to attack like those mindless "animals".
I bullied little children and skewed their peace,
I got into fights, I stole, abused and loved at lease.
I murdered the frail, and killed innocent creatures
I was a disgrace as I lived and now, hell's member.

It turns out, there's beauty everywhere...

It was a Saturday with skies sans birds,
as I basked in ambience of joyous emotion.
til a wrecking ball swung toward me,
I run for my life but hell had less fury.

Once struck, my weary body collapsed,
and my heart under rubble started to wither.
I was sealed off  with yellow tape,
burdened by regret but it was too late...

For many days I lay there devastated,
til an engineer came my way-
fancied the remains of my abode,
shovelled rubble over my heart,

wrenched it but it put up resistance-
it flickered with hope but was hesitant,
and in effort to get it to work that instant.
it caved even more upon persistence,

My pessimistic mind and weary body
scorned my fractured heart as it got nursed.
It started to beat, something felt right,
it was a feeling I could no longer fight.

Flickers were a sign of hope,
pessimism was a sign of fear,
they say think with your mind not heart,
had I thought with my mind I'd still be broken.

Had I not clung onto hope I'd be reckless,
Now I'm pieced with peace I'm whole again...
No matter how broken you are,
there'll always be someone to fix you...

Castle of sunshine

One day we'll reach silver lining and rest,
 Nimbus in which we've wept,

will be swept and start to fade...

Fade away beyond our backs

leaving scars as remnants

of our lives in chains.

We will levitate clear sky,

nonchalant like astronauts.

 sweet sounds of victory-

 atop our thoughts,

days of tyranny past us.

Castle of sunshine

Check out paradoxical hope

Sweet Heaven

Life is a stretch of endless doors,
running side by side for miles.
We are inquisitive travellers, 
entering doors to discover.  

I have opened many doors, 
some of which upon entry-
exposed my many flaws,
fears, and worries.

Some have revealed my interests,
some have led me into darkness,
some have taught profound lessons,
but none guided me to my purpose.

Then I found this one door slightly ajar,
a light peeked through so it made me wonder,
ayeh, I was hesitant to walk in yet curious,
then a strong wind swung open the door,

I caved and when I turned to look up; 
a shimmering light blinded me for a moment.
It faded away and I saw a moving walkway,
I placed my feet on it and conveyed forward.

It was all paper white until I lit a thought,
my imagination appeared, I felt like a god,
nature sprouted from the floor I didn't have to draw,
the atmosphere was olive-green until I thought of war.

I saw walking corpses manipulated by demagogues,
it was then that I realised I had the power,
to manipulate my thoughts and influence the world,
to tap into my source and script a better world.
I entered a haven where I could look forward to tomorrow,
Poetry, my sweet heaven, gave me a way to obliterate sorrow.

Why do we keep gong at it?

Could it be that love is an ocean?

and we're clashing waves riding high and low,
so some days we are still,
others we get aggravated then shrill,
as we swish and swash 

 'cause it's no longer a thrill,

its inconsistent motion has made us love sick.

Could it be that love is war?

and we're engaging in friendly fire

raising emotional barricades to shield our hearts,
from verbal and non verbal bullets

whose triggers are pulled by our partners
having failed to solve matters in diplomatic manners.

Could it be that love is a game?
Where we are competitors,
and in this Colosseum,
we fail to fathom the reality

that we are a team,

and that to go past whats grim,
we need to pass it.

to end the score that’s putting us at war.

Pieces of love

love is a worship place;

some run to it for joy,

others seek it for peace,

while some seek forgiveness.

love is a battlefield!

Fight for it and you will unite.

fight as a team and enjoy its perks.

fight against it, hate will consume you.

love is abstract art,

treasure its value it'll display in your heart.

stroke its plush nature against the- 

walls of your heart and the outcome, 

will leave the world envious of your work.

love is undeniable to the heart.

Fight it, it will fight right back.

resist it, your shield will grow weary. 

embrace it, and it'll will be yours to keep. 

Life is strange

Life is strange, it contains much beauty, 
and in its colour dwells beasts to juxtapose.

It has music of different genres and roles, 
from the nonchalance of soul-
to the rowdiness of rock n roll.

Love that burns a phoenix flame,
some get burned and relinquish it, 
others seek its warmth and cherish it. 

Joy that takes on multiple forms,
from narcissistic demagogues that revel in anarchy,
to helpless hippies that frolic in a world of iniquity

Nature that flourishes off of itself, 
rain feeds seeds and a rainbow forms when it leaves, 
seeds sprout into trees and the ground feeds off leaves.

Religion that has bewildered man,
from the idol worshippers ridiculed by Abrahimic followers, 
to Buddhists that pay no mind to scrimmage of blasphemers.

And of earnest men;
dwells those gliding over cascading luxury
while some tumble down a dark pit of penury. 

life is strange, it's a mishmash of isms,
in which the diabolic and uptopic worlds co-exist.

Die another day.

My body trembled like an weary pole in a winter storm. I reached out for my pocket leaving trails of sweat and pulled out a crumbled box. At that moment, it was either my superman or grim reaper.
I spread open its wings to access what I hoped would be left in it. I took a glance inside the small box of cherry cigarettes, for a second it looked empty- my heart stuttered.
I quickly stashed the last one into my mouth placing it firmly between the clenching hold of what was left of my black lips. I then reached out for my other pocket to pull out a purple lighter that was halfway empty and the words,” only chain smokers carry around fire,” rung through my head.
I questioned what had I become. The thought blurred after I remembered I had to quench my undying thirst. I thrust the lighter with my succulent thumb and like Caveman I sparked a fire.
It formed up from the small hole of the purple lighter and I lit the edge of my firework. The first pull of death strangled my throat with an ice cold sting, and it went down to my decaying lungs.
The edge of my cigarette crumbled down to the floor in a simultaneous sequence. . I burnt down the spire to its foundation and the building, my body got destroyed once again by this foreign terrorist.
My mind eased up, sweat dried as I got smothered by cigarette smoke.
My heart, after inhuman pounding- settled, and it felt like I would live to see another day…

OuT Of ThIs WoRld

"Excusez-moi, excusez moi."

She spoke her words gently

like a blue jay that sangin the hours of breaking dawn.

My words refreshing like orchestra symphonies

cried out there reason, but only to be pardoned.

and once again I attempted, 

"Je t’aime, je t’aime... Je t’aime"

"Excusez-moi, excusez moi,"

It did not grow old to my ears.

It only brought me to a point of return

and like a swirling bee, I stung her once again

"Mon nom est Aldridge," I whispered,

She giggled and I knew my venture had seen light.

"vous et moi, should start a family tree and ,

 live by the sea, in our breeze of love,

Je t’aime, je t’aime... Je t’aime,"

"Excusez-moi, excusez moi,"

It did not grow old to my ears,

and the fact that she was from Venus,
and I was from mars,

never stopped me from telling her
that she was out of this world.

"You speak the language of love," 

I told her,

"be my tutor of this beauty and,
I will scribble it all over you heart,

and the sands of our hour glass of love-
shan't run out for it will be over flooded;

Albeit, our worlds apart, 

let me take you away and cherish you.

for I have travelled many miles only to fall for you…

"Je t’aime, je t’aime… Je t’aime"




If you loved this, check out what happened after on Sans toi je serais mort

Dear father,

How do I make something from nothing?
How do I know what is right and what is wrong
yet what is wrong is before me like an open door?
Taunting "truth" through my eyes and into my mind.
What does the future hold for me?
Will I walk the streets I hope to take on? 
Will I leave the mark I hope to leave? 
Will I be just another fallen leaf of nature?
How can I see it all in my mind but fail to play it out?
What is the point of a dream when living it is but a dream?
How will I prosper yet I tethered to fear?
The gift of love, you have given to me in so many ways, 
sings to me songs of encouragement and support, 
but ambiguous scripture can only do so much.
My past has gone by like a one way train, 
Yet I yearn for the past, live in present, 
while my mind strays for the future, 
a future so bright in my mind yet uncertain.
It's a whim, a myth; a retold story in my mind.   
I only hope that when you open the doors. 
You flood us with opulence in this world of seemingly hopeless dreams, 
where we now struggle to live up to the expectations set by those fore front.
We can only turn to you for guidance and I am another one of your children,
whose sins you hate but I pray you enable me to inspire the dreams of many.

Your son.

Foul Lover

Now that it’s over and we are sober,
the blue sky has turned sombre,
it's sending its cats and dogs to come over,
at least in rain I can hide my wet cheeks.

I reminisced those long nights,
when I tried to read you,
now I understand the results,
I guess I'm not book smart.

As much as we can grow into love
there's always room for hate after love.
I don't speak in relation towards hating you,
but the feeling that I have could compare.

Never did I treat you with despair,
but you always treated me like a spare
you were reckless and it was unfair;
although, sometimes you did care.

But it reached out for you,
like a patient praying mantis,
and you left me without a pair,
will I ever be man enough?

Yet I eagerly waited on you,
I always though it half time,
but I should have played referee,
and gave you a red card for your foul love.

I don't regret the interjections,
I mean, I had my good times
despite the misconceptions,
I guess our love failed the test of time. 

Broken legs never killed no-body...

The feeling of failure was consuming me.

 I became timid, courage turned leaf like-

being blown away by hurricanes of pessimism.

The meadow of lustrous dreams yonder away, 

that I had always ogled at since childhood, 

feels like an extract from ladybird tales.

I had laid out a blue print,

to run track and-
achieve a milestone.
Soon as I had started,

my legs wore out and broke off.

They are now throwing banter,
telling me how I'm going no where,

I'd have pointed fingers but I played as coach too...

I am now broken but can try again,

for an incandescent flame of hope still burns within, 

I was lit and tamed to toil on and not give in. 

So now that I am crawling,

I shall learn to walk again,

then I shall sprint across the meadow,

till I fade...

Dear Mother,

I wrote this for you to reminisce on all you've taught me.
From you, I have learnt,
amicability from the warmness you give of, 
contentment other than being like Oliver,
patience in this hurrying world,
ambition and with it I will push forth,
passion for it is a driving force that has kept you, 
shame from my mistakes that made you cry.
courage from how you have solely managed.
joy, the aura of your beauty and reason for your bliss
hard work from the voice telling me not to procrastinate,
endurance through watching you fight the good fight, 
respect but also when it’s right to break the law,
failure and how to get back up and re-use my pores.
right from wrong and what is wrong I deplore.
love and loving you, I will do so, evermore.
Furthermore;Despite the future that glimmers dimly onto me. 
I shall not be impeded from moving, 
For you are the headlamps on my path,
I will get there for you are seeing me through.
I will carry the virtues you have taught me wherever I go. 
They will be proof of your existence and when I get there,
wherever it might be, I hope I make you proud.  
I pray to God that you live a long, happy energetic and fruitful life.

LLL.... ^_^

What if?

What if?.

skies beyond our reach were never breached by hailstorms,

rains only dwindled to feed crops and moisten green grass,

snow only played the role of beauty on Christmas,

and nature stayed ever green as roses and hibiscus blossomed,

animals raced through their habitats fearless of falling,

birds chipped through the sky chipping sweet songs-

of peace and not discreetly mourning. 

What if the ozone was still in its true nature?

What if? 

What if?

Mankind only lived to love,

technology was used for peace and eradicated poverty,

deprived families had plenty at their disposal,

disease was a mere illusion,wealth was not pride,

rebels raided homes of the hopeless to help them,

terrorists harmonised instead of terrorise,  

and being humane was what made people conceited.

What if people all over the world woke up to peace?

What if?