The pockets of the sky are dressed in Secrets

New riddles rise before the dawn

The lips of the clouds are completely  sealed

In profound programmed hesitation,

Our People say “When it rains- there is revelation”

Yet the Rain has been selfish for thirty days

Is it Me, Is it my People, Is ti the Rain?

Its time to look within

And until then  ………………..

The pockets of the Sky are dressed with secrets

WHO RAPED OUR SUNSHINE?

 

 

The fear was a tradition of torment

Of broken dreams from a thirsty mind

But somehow

Sunshine had managed to outplay Darkness

Avoiding each strain from the troubled storm

 

Fear had been raping Sunshine

Behind the hills on an open path

And the rivers kept quiet like they always do

Yet the evil mind began to laugh

 

Our sunshine has survived from a story

On a windy night in June

Her eyes reached out for glory

With a silver shield and a golden broom

 

Palm oil and pasta

 

The blend was awesome

A unique portrait filled with brilliant conversations

The boat was empty

Waiting for passengers that had accustomed new cultures

 

The Ocean . . .

My homeland of wisdom

A parent to many boats

Having sailed through many shores

Before the dawn had opened its mouth

 

Tonight my lips are sealed with palm oil and pasta

The liberal statement from a curious tongue

A tongue filled with oil

Oil that has kissed the skin of the land

Oil filled with blood

The blood of my people

With different strokes but a common cord

 

 

 

JUST A MOMENT

 

A little moment to myself

To breathe

And taste the fruits of this fresh air

To sing in the palace of my bathroom

And bathe my thoughts with the soaps of sweet proverbs

 

A little moment…

To cook a meal for a thousand people

To listen to the voices of a crying baby

And embrace the hearts of the elderly

 

A little moment to myself

To give and share

To feel and pray

Again and again

 

A little moment to myself

To breathe

Slowly

And rest upon the beeches that surround the Ocean

 

One moment

To touch

To grow

To kiss

And love

To say sorry to the people I have hurt

And thank you to those that make my day.

 

 

 

 

 

The Proposal

 

It felt like A Proposal

Or a forum of feelings

Dancing in circles in a passionate park

There was romance by the fountains

And voices that echoed

Within the warmth of the naked winds

And slowly

The air became filled with little flames

Her eyes lit up with warmth

And the conscience of the moon gazed before us

And blessed the night with a signal

This signal gave birth to a homely intuition

Where all that mattered was Love

 

PICTURES AND SHADOWS

 

A day before our meeting

I sat in our room and lit a candle

And when I slept

I dreamt of pictures and shadows

Pictures painted with subtle smiles and mellow voices

Shadows spelt but fading from a distance

I dreamt of the passion in your palms

And the sweetness of a trance

Of messages printed in the wind

But waiting to be shared

And statements, and signals

Prompted by the very eyes of two strangers

A day before our meeting

I sat in our room and lit a candle

Lying beneath the warmth of the naked wind