Self Portrait

I walked into the room of self-examination
And looked into the mirror amidst the walls.
I gaze into the reflective glass
To see what truth in its halls,
But the truth I am told
Is not the truth I wrote.

I am frozen in horror at the sight of his face
This countenance I now gaze upon,
Like a black hole in the open of space
He devours all the light around this place.
A sly grin tears his lower face
A grin that cuts deep within my chest
Throwing my body into a frenzied fit of detest.

I want to look away
Turn and run away,
But his silent grimace
It won’t let me move.
It only draws me, lures me
To look deeper, search deeper
Into the caves in his head
Into the dark caverns that are his mind.

If the eyes truly are the windows to the soul,
Then he,

I have no soul!




He reaches from behind the glass
To grab and plunge me inside,
To share this truth he bears with pride.

I stand motionless
To be consumed by the darkness.
I do not resist
To be clenched by his fist
I give myself,
To him, this other self.

Slow is my descend
To the bottom of this phantom
Slow is my stride
As I shuffle forth
In this place without a light.
I find I stand
In the palm of a desolate wasteland,
An endless desert
With darkness for its sand.

I look up high
To see no sky
No life-giving, life-inspiring light,
Only fury and the night.
Where once the light
Had shone so bright
Now resides a storm
That rages with boundless might.

The clouds are filled with my fears and doubts
The thunder is fueled
By my screams and shouts.
The storm is a manifestation
Brewed by my very yin.

This truth is too much
For my shoulders to bear
By grief and despair
I am infected,
This deadly virus
Pillaging through my veins
Pulls me down.
Like a wounded stallion
Jerked by the reins,
This mighty temple
That once stood high and tall
Crumbles to its knees,
As though long destined to fall.

This is the realm
Of His soul,
Once the abode
Of my soul.



In Hades Found

The storm swirls, collects
And begins its descent
To devour my ruins
Like that most fearsome serpent.
The might of its darkness
Weighs heavily on my fallen state
A burden beyond my means to take.
Upon me is the full wrath of this storm thrust
And I by the dark am wholly consumed.

I see nothing, I smell nothing
I hear nothing, I feel nothing.
All that is,
Is the dark and the cold
Nothing more are my senses told.

This storm it carries me
Down the grave pit of night
Leading me farther
Beyond reach of the Light.
As I drift away
Past time and space
In the mirror of my mind
I can still see His face.
I can still look into His eye
And all that there is,
Is the dark and the cold
Nothing more
That is His story told.

The storm drops me
In the heart of darkness
And in the distance I can see
Where lies the real me.

My true soul
Now a broken shadow if its former glory
Lies lifeless at the heart of this abyss.
I call out to this self
But the darkness chokes my cries.
I battle from up on my knees
Still heavy on my shoulders
My burden bravely stands.
I shuffle forward to try and lend me a hand
But the closer I lean,
The further He escapes from me.

I scream franticly towards Him
He struggles to lift His eyes to meet mine
His muscles grown feeble with time.
With strength of will alone He lifts His face
And catches me in His haunting gaze.
His face bears the signs of His pain
His body wet with violent rain
But the look in His eye
Says “I cannot die!”

Suddenly from the void
Flames erupt and engulf
Melting flesh from the cling of bone.
In agony He cries
His voice swollen and low
This voice that lost its vigor and strength
So long ago.

As this ghastly scene
Etches itself into the back of my mind
I finally realize
Where it is my soul I did find.
This is Hades
The realm of below,
Where condemned souls
For all Eternity go.

Now have I seen
Where the path of my ways
Shall me lead
When comes the end of days.
Fear and truth
Bind me in their constraints
As I look in horror
At my tormented face.

And all that there is…
Is pain and cold.
Nothing more
That is the truth I am told.




My sub-conscious state is thrust back
Into this plain
As I gasp for air,
Choked by this nightmare.

I sit up from my sweat-drenched sheets
To meditate on what I had just seen,
Was it all but just a dream!?
But how real this dream did seem!
In my ears still it echoes
The thunder of shouts and screams.
In my nostrils still it stings
The scent of melting flesh
As upon it the Hades flame
Its anthem of torment sings.
In my eyes still I see
That truth that lies within me.

In this still of night
Quickly I switch on the light
That it may soothe my savage fright.
I walk to the window
Sit and stare through the glass.
It somewhat eases my fleeing heart
To see the world still beats as it should,
“I’m awake, it was just a nightmare. That’s all, just a bad dream!”
I watch the night through the sky pass
And all that there is
Is the dark and the cold
Nothing more do my eyes behold
Nothing more to be wrote . . .




Staring into the wind
Into a trance I fade.
I wonder through the doors of my mind
Take a stroll through the halls of my soul,
Seeking, searching…

“Was it all but just a dream!?”
The question echoes even in my trance.
Is this what Poe meant,
Was he as lost as I,
When he wrote the words
“Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?”

My head turns towards the bed
The pillow still holds my mould
But its invitation I reject.
I glimpse and behold,
Still fresh and clean
Beside where I lay my head
Is that Bible
That for so long has not been read.
Is that what I am meant to understand!?
Is this what I have been failing to see…?

Atop this mountain of my fears and failures
I see it,
A cross hung high.
Upon it His bleeding, beaten and bruised body
Is left out to dry.
His expression says He bears the world’s pain
His wretched form bears the world’s shame
But his eyes bear no fear or regret.
As He surrenders His last breath
He whispers to me,
“I have loved you with all I am, with all I have.
I will die that you may live…
Dawn sprouts from the horizon
Watered by a heavenly shower.
Like the rain running down the glass pane
Tears trickle down this face
And with each drop that falls
So does the fear, the shame, and the pain.
That was not a dream!

I get up and move to the mirror
After a deep breath
I stare at the face staring back at me,
To see what truth he will tell.
No more sinister smile
Tears flow from his eyes,
He does not smile.
This is me
No other is behind the glass



This is one of those pieces that has haunted me forever… From when I first put together the chapters; a time when that was all I could do to make sense of what I was going through; to right now years later as I claim to have it all under control…

It is funny how this piece still describes my growth cycle so well: –

Overthinking/Overanalysising ->> Doubting, Hating, Resenting ->> Admitting, Acknowledging ->> Reconsciling, Accepting ->> Evolving

Guess it affirms that I am still me despite all the transfiguration… Still me but BETTER!



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!