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Cana Feb 2018
I missed a day yesterday.
Wasn’t feeling very positive
So I went day drinking.
If I’m honest I’m not feeling up to it today either.
So instead of being morose I’ll just leave this here.
Until another day.
Sorry
Cana Feb 2018
A silly little wobble
A subtle little flavour
A saucy little topping
A sultry little dessert
Cana Feb 2018
Morning mood was bleak
Spiced with some Jazz, a poached egg and Appreciation.

Noon was carnival!
BBQ on the dock sprinkled with tropical house and a heavy dose of ***.

Night was narcissism
Sinful Bourbon and banana desserts, cigarettes aplenty, blue lights and bad habits
Day 6 was a good day.
Cana Feb 2018
It was hot before
Then spring came flaring with heat
I need to go swim
This, my first Haiku.
Add to it, should you wish to
Start a Haiku game
Cana Feb 2018
here I sit
Under thatched gazebo.
Gin, Tonic and Marlboro to keep me company.
The warm air broken by cool breezes blowing off the Bahamian sea.
The sweet smell of bug spray permeating the otherwise pristine natural beauty.
It adds to the charm, like sun cream stinks of beach days.
Gently the sea makes out with the shore below me. I’d feel like I was intruding had it been any other.
Peace pervades.
All woes and doubt settle into my feet.
A far cry from where they stir unwanted feelings in my belly and heart.
I could sit here all night.
I think I will.
I could only wish to one day be able to capture the feeling I have right now of utter calm. I have to rely heavily on your imagination here as there aren’t enough words to describe perception.
Cana Feb 2018
She
She calls.
She waves at me.
Her French manicure frothing
Come she whispers.
Come with me to adventure.
Come with me to danger.  

Eventually I’ll go.
Despite all the corpses littering her depths
I wait for my hair to be pulled in and tied.
My sails to be hoisted and set
And my nose to be pointed
Towards the next port.
It’s a work in progress. I’ve just woken up. Also if the sea is feminine and a boat is feminine then is this poem about lesbian love?!
Cana Feb 2018
I knew a old dude from Du Preez
Who tried to **** over a tree
The tree was so high he ****** in his eye
And now the poor ******* can’t see.
Not my poem, I don’t know where it’s from, heard it once a long time ago and it’s made me chuckle ever since.
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