A Sinner in organised times...

A walk through this unfathomed dungeon,
Has unleashed this vixen.
For sadism can strike the pristine,
This speaks of purity stained...

A bloody sly prudish bugger,
Too dishonourable to be crucified.
For a good afterlife has tremendous grace,
Vengeance is too often sought by blood...

When your very creed is ashamed,
So very vain.
Natures wrath does backfire,
The honour is gone to the dogs,
They feast on it everyday.

So, who's to hex a sinner?
Life fails to understand relativity,
Brings about disorientation to the innocent,
In this very disgraced phase of transition...

The lies are damned,
The swing of life is not.
A very beautiful species,
Their harness is defied by lies...

The vixen dreams of the siren,
The knight knows his target,
The sinners brace themselves for their mid life crises and lonely death,
The King of fate mocks them all...

The exhibitionists are coerce,
The casket contains treasure that is never good to be flaunted.
Disharmony has its way of failing to see the great good,
A very strange kind of nugatory angst is at war with sunshine...

The dark ages were indeed oppressed,
Bred in agony.
Thus the impishness of a fool wounded a beautiful phase,
But the new era nourishes the madness...

A very undignified whorish soul,
Can dissociate the innocence of a vulnerable offspring,
Drifts from each tavern ,
By bad destiny brings about procreation,
This schmuck wanders by the proximity of your very shadow...

The air is bewildered,
Breathed by virtues and vices,
But you can never quite separate something so interdependent,
After all is said,
Life shall conclude that a curse is a cycle...

Words can never embody wrath,
Unless a certain evolution is attained,
That being said, my blood boils to a crimson like red,
Dishonour has left a real man shamed...

The closet of mystery was always a tale untold,
Stability is only loyal to the brave,
Helplessness is unfortunately a companion to every mortal,
Dignity is false until claimed...


( Painting- Saturn by Goya).

Bullets and Auguries...

A maverick transit,
Had swept away the illusions of my transgressions,
Condescending new found glory,
Shall wait in the monastery created for anticipation...

There comes the illusions of my innocence,
Made to survive amidst all these lecherous men,
Whilst my mind is devoid of life,
Arouses the return of promiscuous luck...

So short lived are these chuckles of forbidden humour,
The gust of glee,
The crescendo of that shenanigan that rests in the hands of fate,
Gift of god and the food of demons...

Behold, for the hunters and gatherers are here,
The nurturers have no reason to rejoice,
As we write music inspired by the clarion of our ancestors,
Because somewhere within you know you're intoxicated due to the void of passion...

Drop by drop,
The repercussions seemed to have arrived,
You have now succumbed to fatal generosity,
Shamed by the battles you refused to lose...

Painting by Vladimir Kush.

Web of lies...

One- third of a kiss,
For a weekend of bliss,
One-fourth of your dream,
To seal the deal,
A little bit of life,
Just to soothe a juvenile mind,

To morn woke us with the responsibility we never chose to partake,
An opulent reason to slouch,
Scarred inspiration that impaled our vain,
As we run from the perfectionist dictatorship,
You're never too old to run...

So what does it take,
To go from Satan's derriere to Cupid companion,
But then again we're unique designs of nasty tapestry,
Sloshed by the lies we've spun,
We preserve actual kisses in a nebulous womb...

Right from a withered mire,
Born beneath the prophecy of untamed fire,
Lies that have conceived tears,
The elitist fancies that have masked our mysterious shenanigans,
Mascara to mask the clarion of fury within us....

Isolation has created a triumph new world,
A little star of inception,
Wicked icicles that fall upon us just before we have usurped our right to passage,
My stormy mind fails to glean the dream,
Sanity brings laughter right along to soothe my repentance...

The darkest of nights,
Within the deepest of shells,
The reminisce of yet another illusion,
The temporal of dreams,
Backfired when you never predicted you'd need to brace yourself....

I snort the winds of sleep,
I stay lost in a momentary lachrymal song,
Alert not to fall prey to labial seduction,
Melancholy entered my kraal and disturbed my placidity,
So as they say, kudos to fate...

( Edward Munch- Ashes)

Waves...

There was this little corner of our minds,
Where we laugh about the anecdotes of dawn,
Where we could cry faded tears,
Make plans for the morn,
Transmit our fears,
So far with a song...

Those waves of eternity,
Calls for riddles,
I saw the mirage of a dream,
While walking a stark path,
As strong as fire,
As ferocious as pain...

Ugly as decay,
As we walked through the horizon of wicked plans,
Within the pockets of evil,
As I suggest,
"Lets be reborn," "Lets be reborn!"
But it won't be as merry as you think...

A coniferous plan,
He matched our hearts,
The dice of destiny in both hands,
For reasons I can't quite enunciate,
I find comfort in turmoil...

The beauty of spring,
Fail to ward away the evil of our minds,
For we were the ones blessed with unconventional fate,
That dances within the ashen clouds of anticipation,
While we sway within our blissful cacoon,
Contemplating how to wash away our sins...

( Painting by Frida Kahlo)

The midnight oil...

We walked amazed by haze,
Ready to win the battle we formerly lost,
Now as I unravel the real warrior,
The lie begins to show...

A pure mockery,
Harmony embraces acceptance,
Now lets cajole rigidity with intoxicating words,
I hereby unite with another gruesome story...

Is the flare hidden,
Or do we fail to glow?
But I assure you shall be illuminated,
After you clean the surface...

Now as the secrets are revealed,
We speak the unspoken ,
We burst the bubbles of our virtues,
Now the spirits have woken...

Now let your mind project,
The illusions of the burnt midnight oil,
The mirror shall always be a reflection of your horse-shoe smile,
Stirring of vacant laughter rings scornful bells...

For in a decade we thaw this frozen seduction,
You shall then hear the bustle of this sirens stilettos,
You shall feel the passion of her Aphrodian dreams,
So oblivious of that little slip...

For its just one right of passage,
That shields you from brutal crossroads,
So we can mock the shadows of loss,
Welcome the ghosts of a dead dream into the chambers of denial...

A numb veil,
Shall accompany me to the furnace of my identity,
Waiting to tantalise me to a different time,
There goes the otherwise tempestuous focus....

( Painting by Edward Munch)

Walk of life...

He watched his sanctum mind,
While he was trapped in an abrasive song,
He walked to correct time,
The solemn mystery of the fog...

He wanted to correct the tangibility of a dream,
Dust of obstacles differs from the dust of love,
His actions jinxed his breed,
His path consists of spontaneous rust...

Now why would some one wait,
When they know about the bitter shards they've sown?
Will you mock fate,
Or will you wait for the unravel of the road...

I shall sojourn in this bitter sea,
In the quest to bids farewell,
To part ways with that lost dream,
In the land of love I believe I dwell...

Limbo of a dream...

This is the casket where I have pieces of elevation,
They'll arrest your movements,
They'll countermand the plans of resurrection,
Where have you left your conceited grin?

Climb these walls of mystery,
Soon you shall witness the striptease of life,
Now suddenly your pampered within the folds of glory,
Now you've begun foreplay with the sweet afterlife...

A little glimmer could illuminate your path,
Now you've got just four days for the battle,
You're battlefield is going to be a little more cerebral than your love struck heart,
Or else you're just one of those mortals...

-Pre board poetry.

Picture from the net- ( thinkfeelplay.com )

Hey Damsel...

It was the dead of night,
The world had cajoled a few of them faithful mortals into a slumber,
While our mind is faced with the tempest of innuendos,
While our bodies are trying to win this battle of love...

So as this world is embraced with stars,
The sky protects apparent evil,
Contempt of the mortals tries to contradict death,
Shall my sphere deal with the duress of being pristine?

Is this revolution the rhythm of life,
An escape from death,
Elevation that has cosseted this breed,
Or is time surging into this wilderness of frolic?

Do you wait for the transit,
Or does the transit dread the load?
But you don't want to die dirty, do you?
Unfurl the transit before it fades....

Enjoy blissful innocence,
For you've been led to believe this deception,
Fancy the wealth,
Bleed for being a part of the elevated breed...

For these walls were built for survival,
The mass is as apparent as cherished memories,
Sturdy enough to have borne the wrath,
When amidst a magnitude they believe you're just civilisation...

You're just a popper,
Amidst the clouds of their jewels,
So breathe education,
For tears will not soothe ignorance..

Hey damsel, you've been masked by anticipation,
Embraced by the silence of chaos,
In need for introspection,
Girl, I say lay your path...

Picture from the net- ( fineartamerica.com )

Glasnost...

A stroboscopic shadow of fear,
In the cistern of the battle,
Popped the cherry of this lonely heart,
In a nonchalant slumber...

In the rain of fury,
On the chair of passion,
In the armour of repentance,
The motility of religion...

A Casanova when basked with smiles,
In this secret crusade called love,
Oh obtrusive Padawan,
Don't fade when exposed to the rain...

To recognize the elevated mystery,
In this array to find passion,
When one day you shall see,
So many strings trying to get a hold to bliss...

So when the martyrs put up a fight,
So astringent with glee,
There's a certain steed that leads us to the stubborn fire and then cries,
You shall not be soothed with the steam of sycophancy.

Love bound in this wed of dreams,
Cheers to this dazed breed!
That black bolt that struck us at an accelerated pace,
So today, should I say peace or hallelujah?

Oh lord I see to know this creed,
Draped in the translucent colours of the mask,
They have the gleam of the sun,
Yet they're so lost in sinister lust...

Farewell...

Times have penetrated the uncertain night,
While I'm touched upon by the shadows of crimson fear,
To rip this mask and enter this womb of lust,
To ponder the lost fire of the heat...

Farewell my friend,
I see the afraid pallor on your face,
When you and I part ways for the jaunt to the sun,
While we're basked in unpredictability...

This alley for battle of the soul,
That lamp post illuminated for hope,
To fade in the mist of life,
To assimilate into our renaissance....

This wardrobe that contains our fragments of life,
To cloak of our union,
Irksome truth of disintegration,
To battle the storm of judgements...

Picture from the net- ( artgallery.com.ua)

Raptures...

The morn of every night,
Mourns for the intercept of time.
These raptures of an unpredictable path,
They compose the archives of a joyous heart...

We are ultimately lead to the circle of love,
From the greetings above.
A splash of stars,
Lays somewhere between the horizon and hearth...

Where will you accept?
The graceful acceptance of a fragment of defeat for which they wept.
Auxiliary melancholy of time,
The ambidexterity of emotions leading us from a hollow to light...

Picture from the net- ( aviartnutkins.com )

Inception and unity...

An inception from a dazed tempest,
For every birth that awaits the journey of life,
Astringent joy dressed in unfathomed fortune,
Wait for the morrow to curb the truth of lies...

A search for the north star,
Preparation for the battle,
The moment for which my die was said to be cast.
For to bask in the golden sun you'll have to bear wrath of ice...

Friends during the journey,
Foes in the afterlife,
Strangers before the unity of inception,
Comrades that stood together for the celebration of life...

A drop of love,
Surges into the world,
Fathoms this place,
Cries when we part ways...

This bowl of life,
Goodies for the supper of fate,
The bitterness of light,
The spice includes hate...

From now we shall graciously accept death,
The aftermath of the bustle of life,
An augury spun by mysterious illusions,
To penetrate this surprise...

Picture from the net- ( collegenews.org )

Lipstick...

There are queer days,
When I am welcomed by ghosts,

To unfurl the surprises of fate,
Masked by vain when they boast...

Is luck a blend of colours?
Or is it a gift to gold,
Is luck just fates candor?

Or is it what you chose?

When you pick ripe apples in the garden of love.
They say your sins can't be washed,
If only in the garden of life there was visual luck,
There are no sins when the shame is lost.

Will you stand by me when I have been deceived by luck?
Or would you be like faded lipstick on my lips?

Will I survive as a loner in gray glum?
But I know you'll be there when I'll sway my seducing hips...

The lost glint with the lost lust,
Lust can revive the breed of the faded,
The lost glint with the lost luck,
Luck can revive the breed of the faded...

Picture from the net- ( changethethought.com )

Rain...

Life is coated with spice,
Enhanced when boiled,
Once you've played with the dice,
You'd forget poise...

As I am greeted by thunder,
Embraced by lightning,
You'd notice my blunders,
Is the gap widening?

Her frantic cries,
They're just ceased by her vain,
The bitterness of ice,
Melts with the rain...

Glee as it is symbolically show,
Isn't only a celebration of life,
There are drops of glee when you mourn,
This is when you make love to poise...

A single drop of blood,
Has bloomed into a dream,
Paved by love,
Morphed into the unseen...

What would you know about intimacy,
Until you have searched the chinks of your mind,
These illusions of purity,
They are sculpted by the blind...

Introspection would only help you if you caress your pain,
Your reflexes are your arrows,
Your actions are your fate,
This gap of fate and the morrow...

The widening gap of your accolades,
When at battle against your putridity,
These are you tainted mistakes,
Who's to judge purity?

The spice that morphed into blood,
Actions that morphed into dicey fate,
When the highest peak transcended from vain to love,
It all happen in the rain...

Picture from the net -( scotty-thefrogprince.blogspot.com )