My voice yearns to speak

Only when it's incapable of doing so

it is all rather insincere and futile
when you’re old and almost senile
to try doing a few  new things this late
on the premise better late than never
you will learn much to your chagrin
how your remorse and deep regret
fail you and there’s no peace ever
lesson for us all dear fellow wayfarers:
‘isikhumba sigoqwa sisemanzi’
‘tis best you tan a hide in its freshness

Not so sure it's good
For me to be alone
Gives me time to think
Of the things I know
And the things I know
Never are quite right
The way I think I may
The way I know I might

Not so sure it's good
In the choosing of the sides
Where my brain convenes
With the left and right
While one stands up for yes
The other sits for no
Never can you tell
Which way this mind will go

Not so sure it's good
To let it out to play
Where in its adolescence gets lost
Or just ups and runs away

I once dated a ******
And I loaned him money.
I laughed out loud in church.
Well! I found it all so funny.
I bought a used Chevy van
Without the proper paperwork.
I tried to get my money back
And the guy called ME a ****.

A friend told me I could buy ****
From a guy on the edge of Watts.
Eleven o’clock at night on his porch
Me, a stranger, waiting. Stupid ****.
Once I knew another guy, not well.
He wanted some dope from me.
I agreed to sell it, then realized
The fellow worked for the FCC.

I let a gal move in with me
A hippie from Haight Ashbury.
She drank my *****, ate my food
Then stole all she could carry.
It was just the kind of thing,
The sixties games we played.
Free love, open heart and then
After all that, I didn’t get laid.

A guy was selling hot TVs
From my place of employ.
A fool and money, you know
Is all about a gullible boy.
And, since the crook was a gal
I fell for it, because naturally,
A nice lady would never, ever
Try to swindle the sweet young me.

A guy was plunking his guitar
With a sign that said he was blind.
I gave him my last buck and
Figured I was just being kind.
At five o’clock, he got up to go
And I thanked my lucky star
That I was not blind like he was
Then I saw him drive away in his car.

Doing stupid things does not mean
That a person it a certifiable idiot.
It can mean that we trust too much
Or that we’re greedy and don’t admit it.
We see a chance to get a profit
Or even to do something nice
Then get stupid, do what we know
Is contrary to all good advice.

I need you to know the severity of the first three words of this sentence and how the last of the three represent my felicity.

I am captivated
by your existence
So humbled by the thought
I'd probably exchange
all my better days
Just to spend my worst
few minutes with you
~ ~~~~ ~~~
I dreamt of basking
unclothed in a garden
Listening to snakes
Eating forbidden fruit
reluctantly giving in
to my thirst
wait
I hear a voice
~ ~~~~ ~~~
In your presence
I am speechless
A humiliating truth
I rest for hope  
but truth be told
I'm sick of dreams
Help me speak you
into existence   
So we could Ioan
each other hugs
And hershey kisses.
~ ~~~~ ~~~

unable to tell you my deepest thoughts
for months wondering "is this the worst?"
        do you see how far we fell
is the question that I often say
like a shy weak girl starting to create a song
while we become more apart.

running to you at my best speed
hearing your yell that you're doing the same
hoping that the little fire we managed to create
will not die in the void we started to feel
meanwhile replaying part two of the song
       *until we meet again, my love.

I'm in pain and it's all because of you.*

I shouldn't have let you in my life in the first place.
I shouldn't have let you creep inside the barriers i've built all my life just to protect my self from this kind of feeling.
I shouldn't have let you own a space in my heart.

Because now, i do not know how can i survive a day without hearing your voice, seeing your smile, or have goosebumps whenever i see you steal a glance.
Because now i do not know how to fix that barrier, or i doubt if it will be strong enough to resists your every touch, your every stare, your very presence.
Finally because i don't know how to take back that space that you have claim, not forcefully, but so effortlessly that it surprise me how much of my self is willing to get hurt. Over and over again.
A repetitive process.
A series of nightmares.
Slowly break my heart, my dear, as it metamorphose into a million glass like liquid called tears.

Until all of the feelings i have for you hangs itself up in the air and be left stranded. Until it is all gone. Gone forever.

-This one's for you.

Picking up the pieces
Now the storm has gone
Possessed I was by
A wild hurricane

As mighty winds blew fast
Broken windows, door and glass
As I now live in the debris
Of my mistaken past

Where my self destruction
Was my, favorite past time
And my stupidity was
A partner in crime

Cursed I was by my
Own devils scorn
As fire grew I burnt
Both my body and soul

But now I see in all
The scattered mess
Like a photo album
All my rich past

As I clear the ruins
Of  my broken parts
And brick by brick
I begin to rebuild

Repairing broken windows
I  let a new light in
And when sweeping the floors
I see the reflection an old self  

And I thank God it is
Time for me to rest
As all the angry fuel has
Gone from my empty chest

Sometimes
my heart
feels the kiss
of ecstasy.

Sometimes
my toes
brush the abyss
of madness.

Sometimes
I can't tell
the difference.

Mostly, I don't
think
there is one.
  - mce