Scars tender, scars deep,
Scars engraved in the very marrow of the soul.

For each cut he dealt,
He wears one in response.
He is heavily dressed.

He hides his shame
Behind pearly whites
And unhinged laughs.
All around he must always look fine,
He is always fine!

But in the piercing dark
Where pretence and mask are nullified,
He hates everything about him.

With scalpel skill he operates,
Exorcising himself from those he infects.
Naught for honor,
What cancer has any.
He only cares to be let go,
To be alone in his shame.

For all his thoughts are of blood and rage,
That is his fate…
He must accept or die in vain.

Rotting scars,
Never let him forget.
Fresh wounds,
Refuse to bleed the pain away.
This is his fate!
He must accept and die!



Love did not catch my eye
Spark my interest and reel me in.
Love wasn’t a puzzle I enjoyed cracking
Wasn’t the challenge that made it all worthwhile.
Love did not stay up talking with me all night
Didn’t wake me up early so I wasn’t late.
Love didn’t give me a shot,
Didn’t let me get that close.
Love did not hold me in the dark,
Keeping me warm, safe and sedated.
Love did not act stupid to make my day
Love did not walk me everywhere
For no reason but to just be with me.
Love did not make me cry,
Didn’t give away to another
The smile, hug and kiss
That should have been reserved
For none but me.
Love didn’t imprint their scent and taste on this flesh
Didn’t leave fragments of their being stuck in my soul.
But then again…
Love did not abandon me
Didn’t not touch me
Didn’t deny me.

You did!

Love is useless,
Tis but a word and title
Granted to a collective yet vague human emotion.
It bears me no fruit or worth
Only a heavy chip I hung onto,
But no more!
Love is naught,
All that is, is the being it is associated to.
That is what is tangible,
What invests in us, helping us grow and become better
What protects us when we can’t do so ourselves
What will sacrifice for us.

I have the memories,
I have the scars,
I will never forget,
Even if I’d ever want to…
But I have no Love!

Thank you my Love!.

“Like a moth to the flame”

Makeup wings
Powdered whispers

Does the moth know it will burn
When the flame it touches?
Does it know…
And still chooses to go regardless?
Does it only care
To be embraced by the light and warmth,
Only to suffer and burn once it arrives?
Does the moth cast itself into the fire
Because this is all it can do,
This is all that there is?
Does it surrender to the glowing pain
Rather than linger in the numb of shadows?

Dancing flicker
Seductive trance

Does the flame know it burns the touch?
Does it know it consumes
Leaving only ash in its wake?
Does the flame care for the moth,
Trying all it can to push the moth away
Keeping the moth from harm?
Does the flame deliberately seek out the moth,
Does it enjoy to lure and consume?
Does the flame wish it was not,
That it didn’t burn, that it didn’t hurt…
That it too could embrace?

Vengeful attraction
Luminescence love

I am Moth.
I don’t care what people say.
I don’t care how many you have burned,
How many you have hurt before.
Don’t push me away…Please!
I will not burn like the others,
You will not hurt me!
I am here, I will not leave you.
I will touch you, I will hold you, and I will embrace you!
Why are you so cold!?

I am Flame.
I should be left alone,
I am alone…!
I cannot let you come close.
I will bear this pain alone
Than see you burn like the others before.
I did not mean to lead you here,
I cannot change what I am…
But you must leave,
You must get away before it is too late.
I wish I wasn’t the way I am
That I could let you stay…
But I cannot watch you freeze and burn!


Conversations with ETERNITY


Slowly He walks

Down the cavernous chamber halls of My heart.

The light He wields barely makes a dent

On the shadows that carpet these halls.

Through broken doors He walks

To find this small, cowering figure

Amidst a sea of chaos and rubble.

He sits…

His light casting its glow on a fallen face.

Me: What do You want!?


Me: If You’re not gonna say anything get out…I’m busy!

He: I can see that. . . Cowering in self-pity must be quite the task.

Me: ….Bravo! You have me all figured out, nothing gets past You I see!? Now if that’s all Doc, You may take Your leave now!

The clock ticks away

And still He remains,

Gnawing at the last ounce of tolerance and patience in Me…


He: You…

Me: I’m sold out! Try next door.

He: I’m here to help…In case You haven’t looked around, Your way isn’t getting You very far!


He: I’m not leaving You know!? I can do this all day!

Me: Look this is My life, My problem…I’ll handle it!

He: Is this what You call handling it!?…

Me: What do You want from Me!? . . . Why are You here!?

He: Why ask questions You already have answers to, right? You’ve already concluded it all in Your head anyway, so what’s the point of asking?

Me: Okay Freud… Let’s talk…!

The figure now with raised head

Stares arrogantly at Him…

He politely smiles back.

He: Hi! …

Me: Talk!

He: …I’ll listen, You talk…But first lets drop the mask.

Me: What does it matter to You!?

He: …I have all day! (smiling)

Me: This is who I am, who I choose to be…So either You talk or You leave…


Me: What are You doing here anyway?

He: …I can see you know…

Me: (interrupts) You don’t know Me!

He: …the You behind the mask!

The figure stands

And takes a menacing stance

His face now beyond the Light’s glaze.

But He does not flinch

Nor does He shift His gaze.

He: How long do You plan on hiding…on running? How long are You going to stay in here!? …Or is it that You can’t…

Me: (interrupts) Can’t!?…

He: Yes CAN’T!…Can’t leave, can’t escape, can’t understand, can’t live?…CAN’T!

Me: Don’t forget where You are…

He: Ah yes, pardon my rudeness kind sir…If I may inquire then, how is it that My host finds Himself lost in His own court, perhaps a design flaw!?

Me: Your petty mockery is not appreciated, nor is Your tone. This is My problem, MINE! I’ll deal with it…In My way, in My time!

He: You need help.

Me: From who, YOU!?

He: If You asked nicely.

Me: Really?…And what can You, do for Me?

He: Yet another question, whose answer You already know.

Me: You think You are all-special don’t You?…

He: I don’t think. I know! I know exactly who I AM, something You are clearly struggling to come to terms with.


He: No come back!?…Okay I’ll talk then. . . You wear so many faces, You are surprised each time at the one that looks back from behind the mirror. You create so many personas, for so many people, for so many situations, that when the Light goes out and You are all alone, You don’t know who to be…You try time and again but You can’t do it with what You have, so You hide. You pretend it is all part of Your trial, that You will find the solution. Except You don’t know who You are. How can You if You keep hiding, running, dying!

In the silence the gears slowly grind

But the clock moves not his hands…

His words struck deep and true

And still deeper their blade sinks.

Me: (walks away) We’re done here…

He: Off to another dark cold corner to cower? For one who claims to be called to a warriors life You sure do more cowering than fighting.

Me: (stops walking) Okay…Fine…You want to know right!? Me the real ME!?

I have burst though every single door,

Pillaged every room,

Plundered and ransacked every corner,

And guess what…

I found nought!

No me,

No answer,

No purpose,

No resolve,

No hope,

No light,


Nothing but empty, hollow caverns!

This…THIS is my Truth

THIS IS ME!… (rips mask off)

Nothing more than a flesh-encrusted

Pile of chaos and rubble…

And the poor excuse of an Existence

That resides therein!

The figure is fuming,


Not even this heavy veil of darkness

Can smother this infernal fury!

Me: This is who I am… Still think u can save me!?

He’s undeterred

Even by this.

He calmly walks up to me

Looks straight into my eyes

He: (with a stern but ever warm tone) Why do You have to make it harder than it has to be? You already know why I’m here, how else would I be here if You didn’t let Me in!?

Poor little loner boy, (He touches My naked face)

You try so hard to hide it

But Your acid tears have left trails

Of those many pains buried untold…

You try to cover it up

With a flesh-torn smile

From ear to ear…

You try so boldly to remain brave

Everyone should be able to depend on You,

They can never see You break…

While all along in this silence

You carried it all.

The world

On a child’s crushed shoulders…

You justify it

And You carry on,

Even if it kills You

Still You will carry it all!

WHY!? . . .

There We stood

As the clock ran out of time

Nothing but ME and Me and Him!


Spoken, Heard
Written, Read!

Baby’s first mumbled utterance,
The greatest joy of new borne parents.
A father’s wisdom passed down to eager son,
Moulding a worthy man.
A lover’s on-bended proposal
Receives a heavenly-teared “YES”,
That echoes an eternal love.
The “I do” that signals the start of a new united life,
The “Guilty” that signals the end of another.
The tragic untold tales
Of those aborted in the light years
Between heart and tongue,
Never to be birthed
But to rot in the unspoken void.


The heart clad in stone
Sheds its load,
When kissed by, “Im Sorry”.
The shackles of harbored clouds
Shatter at the song of forgiveness and innocence.
The engines of change charge,
As inspiration ignites the torch.
Tears race to celebrate and dance
When whispers of passion and love
Caress the lobe.
Even the deaf hear,
Though their drums are beyond the touch
Through the heart they receive.


Never did the trees imagine
That paper could bear such weight.
Books are banned,
Pages are burned,
Data is deleted!
But the imprint they left
On the tablets of man,
The chiseled inscriptions
Left on the walls of their mind,
They forever remain!


Finger tips race
Over braille-studded plains,
Though blind to all the world
Through you they see.
Heavy spirit in awe stumbles,
At the discovery of one
Who could piece his pain in such detail,
Print that may as well be written in his own blood.
His yoke with every page flows.


Sticks and stones may break my bones,
But words will never . . .
To sticks and stones
Did You not give the names,
So we can point out the other from bones?
So if you a great intangible ghost,
Gave meaning and name
To concrete and timber poles,
Who then is the greater?

Yes sticks and stones
Many bones have they broke,
But words…
Just as you have seen
Whether spoken or heard, or written or read
They break more!


They are…
Drops of dew on a grassy blade,
That sustain a desert parched heart.
Crafted blades that strike deep and true
Into the marrow of the soul.
Bottles of enchanted ointment
To the wounds of the spirit.

They give birth, they bring death.
They name, they disown.
They destroy, they rebuild.
They bring meaning, they do not exist!

Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words will never hurt me!
Is what they say…
But it’s all Just WORDS!


She is hypnotic,

A walking pendulum.

Her ‘African Pride” sways

With lioness grace from side to side

To the rhythm of her stride

As she steps

Left, Right…Left, Right.

Her soft, caressed skin

Like silken-cloth threaded and woven

By Heavenly beings.

Her face glows

Like the summer moon’s gaze

On the golden Sahara dunes.

Her smile warms

Like the dawning spring rays

On frost bitten leaves.

Her eyes deep and mysterious

Pools reflecting her heritage,

Filled with many a hidden wonder and beauty.

Her words flow forth

From plump, moist, glistening lips.

Rivers of rich honey

Voiced from her nourished cranial-hive,

Birth lakes of wisdom that quench her people.

Beneath her tender bosom

Pounds the beating drum.

Boom, Boom…

The echo ripples across the land

Boom, Boom…

Every pulse proclaiming her Sovereignty.

A body carved by the Heavens

From the very Tree of Life.

The very sight of it ignites the soul.

Angel and Goddess,

Wife and Mistress,

This she has been called.

She is Afrique!


He takes his life today

With belief it is for the greater good,

But he does not die a hero today

He has lived far too long

Becoming the very villain he sought to destroy.

In his eulogy they will tell

Of all the good he did

That he left them too soon

And leave out all the rest.

But that is not all he was…

He was the only thing he could be!

All that was bad,

All that in the dark He was

He writes it in blood on these very sheets

That you may read all about it,

That you may all know

Who here lies!

This is His-tory . . .



Spirit, heart, resolve

All are barely holding together.

Pieces of a puzzle

That never quite fit together to start off with.

Blade, armor, shield

Jagged edges cut deep

The hands that try to mend.

Never known any better,

Broken is as whole as he ever has been!



Scars still vomit crimson tears,

Bruises march in protest across the flesh,

Blood runs rogue rivers to the dust,

Muscles tear to shout their detest,

As bones part under the air of his burden.

Body and being curse such a master,

But such a master is all they have known

And to carry him they will continue.



He ran, he hid,

He chose to look away

As around him they dropped.

He could not stop it before

The army of pain and hurt

That took them all from him!

He was useless

To stay their rampage

It was no different this time!



Failure, disappointment, hurt!

He stood behind persona walls

Put up rules and restrictions razor-wire

Mounted smile and laughter turrets

Dug moats of friends and acquaintances

All this and more

To keep you all at bay.

Letting you in means being vulnerable

That was a chance he would not take on you!



Defeated, beaten, biting the dust,

He lost!

He is all that stood on the battlefield

Yet still to his foe he fell.



They fell,

To him, for him, because of him.

He never did catch them

Before they grazed their knees.

He shot angels down

To break their wings in the fall

And never could he again

Return them to their pedestals.

He fell,

He vows never again!



He may yet physically live

But all that he is left

Is a walking coffin husk of flesh.

His heart still beats

The life through his veins,

But it has long since discarded its life.

He grabs the blade

From the Reaper’s cloak,

He will at least have this much.

He decides here and now

When, how, why

His-tory ENDS!


/* Hara-kiri (“cutting the belly”) is a form of Japanese ritual suicide by disembowelment. It was originally reserved only for Samurai as part of the Bushido’s code of honor. It was either used voluntarily by the samurai to die with honor, or as a form of capital punishment, or for other reasons that brought shame to the samurai.

This term is more widely used outside of Japan. Also known as “seppuku” */